​Santa’s tough keep fit regime at Christmas time will sleigh you - Susan Morrison

I assume St Nick has a workout regime. Well, he has to work off all those mince pies.I assume St Nick has a workout regime. Well, he has to work off all those mince pies.
I assume St Nick has a workout regime. Well, he has to work off all those mince pies.
Santa will be readying his sleigh about now, I imagine. He’s in good nick for a bloke who’s clearly entitled to a bus pass. He seems as spritely as one of his workshop elves.

Come on, how many 1750-year-old blokes do you know who can work throughout the night, handle a flying reindeer team, carry out risky rooftop landings, leap from a sleigh, shimmy down a chimney, then nimbly nip about the house to gently drop gifts under trees? And all done in total silence?

At my age of sixty-four-and-one-half I can’t even get out of the car without making the sort of noises you hear from Wimbledon finalists during a particularly gruelling match point.

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He should be passing on his tips for nifty later life fitness. He could start up his own TikTok channel and be a wellness influencer.

Naturally I assume St Nick has a workout regime. Well, he has to work off all those mince pies. He doesn’t get any at my house. They get eaten. By me.

Big fan of the MP, me, and for my money the best is Lidl’s Deluxe range and yes, that is blatant product placement and yes, I am open to being corrupted by corporate interests if they want to invite me to a blind tasting next year.

Bet the big man does Dry January, given the units of booze he downs in one night. It's always sherry down South, I believe.

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He must be relieved to fly North of the Wall, where he gets more of a choice. We’ll have a dram or two of the good stuff waiting.

Oddly, I tend to find that the offered beverage is influenced by mum or dad’s favourite tipple. When I was a kid we left out cans of Tennents lager, the ones with the lovely leggy ladies on the side.

There are roughly half a million households in Scotland with kids. I’m guessing he gets a boozy hit at about two thirds of his Scottish drop-offs.

A quick wallop on the calculator and I figure that we provide about 333,334 units of alcohol, which just about overtakes the average Scottish 20-strong hen-do hitting the highlights of Newcastle, if you include the prosecco on the train down.

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Few chose gin and tonic. Probably goes flat. You could leave out a gin-in-a-tin, I suppose, but the hiss of the opening would give the game away and Santa is all about the stealth.

He’s a nippy mover, for a lad that’s carrying a bit of bulk.

It's a surprise to me that the ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ team hasn't come knocking at his door. I’ll bet he can tango and two step like a 20-year-old, given that record of high-speed chimney drops and tiptoe deliveries, safely stowing those precious parcels under the right tree.

He nails it every time. Never mind ‘Strictly’, there are about five parcel delivery companies out there who could use a courier who doesn’t dump valuable parcels on doorsteps, drives and herbaceous borders.

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Anywhere, in fact, where they can be viewed by any random passer-by, and some of those folk are very much on Santa’s naughty list.

Well, whatever his secrets, I hope Santa brings you and yours the very best of the nicest things on your list.

Merry Christmas!

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