While I haven’t quite thrown away more spinach and curly kale than I’ve had hot dinners, the number is certainly more than I’ve had hot dinners featuring spinach and kale. I buy kale on a semi-regular basis, because, as I always explain to concerned friends, I least know the basics of food nutrition and I understand what I should eat, I just don’t always apply those theories. When it comes to meal times there is, invariably, something more appealing in the fridge than those stalk-heavy greens. Earlier this year, while I was suffering from a frequent winter cold, the type which bedevil us weaklings, one of those concerned friends passed on a tip from her nutritionist chum to help fight off worst of my lurgy - kale and garlic soup! I liked the idea of that. A dish sky-high in goodness with a bit of punch. Since then I’ve bought almost a field full of kale. I’ve even taken to transferring it from the plastic bag packaging to an airtight tub, in order to prolong its shelf life before I throw it away. It’s always a rather depressing moment when I take the lid off the tub to find the poor Brassica is way past its best and has lost its verdant colour. The reality is I’ll probably cook a unicorn curry with dodo pakora before I conjure up a cabbage-based soup. Although given the current parlous political situation, in a few years time we might be all be eating a lot more cabbage-based soup... I’ve had a fair run at the gym(s), with visits to Prince Regent and the King Alfred in the past few days and a few more pencilled in for the weekend. The good thing is, my wonky back is feeling fractionally less wonky. As I huffed my way through a cat-camel stretch (it would make a yogi cry) I readied myself for the familiar ache at the bottom of my spine, but instead, it felt fine... The procedure I had on my back (burning out the nerves which were supplying too many unwanted pain signals to the noggin) seems to be kicking in, which was ruddy marvellous news. A few days on, after a long week of sedentary desk-bound keyboard hammering, it’s not quite so good, but like a middle-aged male Polyanna, with considerably less hair, I’m optimistic. I’m also still enjoying the vario cross trainer at the King Alfred. It’s a combo of a step machine and a cross trainer and is about as close as I get to running without causing untold grief to my back. It’s a big old machine and I’m sure I look a bit of a lemon, happily striding away on it, but, as this column shows, it’s a been long time since I’ve worried about looking like a clot. To find our more about Freedom Leisure’s Brighton and Hove gyms visit www.freedom-leisure.co.uk/centres