Sunday
I'd like to thank Mark Lamarr, as he was parachuted in to do my Sunday show for me on 6 Music as part of the BBC's fulsome coverage of the South By Southwest music festival in Austin, Texas, which used to be, well, local, and has now grown into one of the biggest jollies on the media calendar. Radio 2 and 6 Music are well represented there, by presenters and management (Stuart's out there, as is Steve Lamacq), although they have cut down this year (Mark Radcliffe isn't). Anyway, I heard Mark Lamarr "trailing ahead" on Radio 2 on Friday night: in his usual couldn't-care-less way he muttered that he was doing a show "either on Saturday or Sunday" on "Radio 6". Nice work. One BBC etc. All I care about is that I get the day off work!

25 repetitions (or until fatigue)
Wake up at 6am, which is my usual hour. Go defiantly back to sleep. Repeat this process until it is 9am. Rise, well rested, in fact too well rested, to do my exercise, something I don't usually have time to do on a Sunday when I'm working, as I have to get into 6 Music in plenty of time to read the Sunday papers. This is a fitness regime with particular emphasis on the upper body that I began last year, around May, and is taken from the Bodydoctor book, which has good, clear instructions and helpful photos of a man and two different ladies doing it. The blonde lady looks very stern, the dark-haired one looks much more relaxed, the man looks like a Liverpudlian sailor called Barry who my brother and I befriended on holiday in Jersey in the early 80s. This is unimportant, but when you look at the pictures in a book as often as I look at the Bodydoctor they start to play hideous tricks on the brain. For the record, this is my regime. (I'm putting this down more for me than for you, but bear with me.)

12-MINUTE WARM-UP
I do 12 minutes on the treadmill because it takes that long to get properly warmed up when you do it first thing in the morning in winter, before the radiators have had a chance to get to work. I average at 6.5 kmh on a 3% incline, and usually notch up around 1.3km and burn off 65 calories. I never thought there would come a time in my life when I would care about this kind of shit, but I do.
INCLINED CHEST FLIES
I've no idea why they are called this, but the Bodydoctor does not make stuff up. Strengthening the upper and inner chest muscles, these involve lying on a flat bench and raising the dumbbells in an arc-like movement from an outstretched crucifix position to above your chest. First weights exercise of the day: always a shock to the system.
LAT-PULL DOWN
You really need a lat-pull machine for this, which I don't have, but the book shows you how to make do with an exercise ball, which I do have. You sit on it, edge forward, lean forward and pretend you are pulling down a bar to behind your neck. This is achieved by using your imagination and holding an elastic strip between your hands. I don't know what the technical term for this item is. (All of these are 25 repetitions, unless stated otherwise.)
INCLINED DUMBBELL PRESS
Back on the bench, with the seat and back adjusted, extending your arms upwards from a starting position where the dumbbells rest at chest height, palms facing forwards. Easier than the Chest Flies.
STRAIGHT-ARM PULL-OVER
Nothing to to do with wearing a jumper. Same position on bench, with one dumbbell cradled between both hands and allowed to arc behind the head, then straightened up again. Quite easy. A bit distracting when you momentarily glimpse your own puffing reflection in the silver dumbbell as it passes over your head.
SEATED SHOULDER PRESS
This one looks good in the mirror. You notch the bench up so you're in an upright position and raise the dumbbells into the air above your head. It is tinged with melancholy, as the hardest exercise comes next:
SEATED LATERAL RISE
Ooh, this is a killer. For this I swap my 4kg weight for 3kg. That's how hard it is. Another sit-up-straight exercise. Start with your elbows locked at right angles and the dumbbells held out in front, then allow your arms to "float" upwards until they are level with your shoulders. 25 of these and you'll be suffering, even if it does strengthen the shoulders, upper back and backs of the arms. Your reward is the easy one:
SEATED BICEP CURL
Arms at your side; using the arm as a hinge, you bring the weights up level with your shoulders. I don't know why it's easier than the others, but it is. Then, with the home strait in view, you put the bench level again.
TRICEP BENCH DIP
These are just push-ups off the edge of the bench. I've been doing these wrong for about 9 months, but I re-read the instructions and now I'm on it.
PRESS-UP
Trad arr. I can only do 12, or 10 on a day after I've stupidly eaten ice cream and aggravated my asthma.
SIT-UP
These aren't actually in the workout, but they feel like a good way to end the session. If I was good I'd finish on some stretching exercises. If I was good.

What did you have for breakfast?
Breakfast: pink grapefruit, raspberries, strawberries, pumpkin seeds. Bear in mind none of the rest of this ever happens on a Sunday . . . Read the Sunday papers, but at home, at the kitchen table, and only the two newspapers I actually choose to read, the Independent and the Observer. What a rare treat in itself. No skimming. No sticking Post-It notes in. No photocopying the stories for Richard. And no News Of The World or the Mail, which suck the very life out of me on a weekly basis with their idiocy, salaciousness and their panicking.

Having sex with giants
Feet up. Watch a couple of Seinfelds on DVD, namely, from Season Three, The Boyfriend Pts 1 and 2 (one of the great achievements of this series with its JFK parody) and The Fix-Up. I am nearing the end of this season now, so I was reminded to order the next one online. Which I did. I like it when Jerry says, "This is the whole thing," in his opening schtick. It is. He's right. (Incidentally, I am enjoying Sein Language, the book of wit and wisdom Rob and Jessie bought me for my birthday: it's basically Jerry's routines, written down, in bite-size pieces. I particularly liked the bit about suits and pyjamas, but paraphrasing is not going to put across the concise genius.)

The curly kale is off
Pleasant late Sunday lunch at riverside restaurant in Mortlake called The Depot; a panoramic view of the Thames with people in boat race-style boats and Canada Geese, and fabulous, hearty food: carrot and ginger soup, smoked haddock, broccoli with ginger and chilli (to replace the curly kale advertised), rhubarb crumble and custard, pot of peppermint tea.

Wise men
More Sunday papers. Top Of The Pops, great to sit down in front of despite being as dispiriting as ever, not least for the insipid appearance of James Blunt and a terrible new song by Girls Aloud, who can do much better, and Trevor Nelson - bless him - introducing the Secret Machines as "Secret Machine" (I know it's not your kind of thing, Trev, but when your main job is to introduce artists it's good to check their names before you say them out loud). Who are Orson and why are they top of our pops? What a dreadful looking shower in their pork pie hats. What kind of music is it? Where do they come from, and where do they fit in?

Dubai has our ports
This has been such a relaxing, leisurely day, I even found the time to read an essay from yesterday's Guardian, by New Yorker economics correspondent James Surowiecki, about foreign investment and protectionism, which, despite a really nice illustration, turned out to be boring. But how nice to have time to even read the boring stuff from the previous day's paper.

Beltway Arnie
The West Wing continues to grip my soul. Episode two of the final season, The Mommy Project (something to do with the US electorate wanting a "daddy" on national security, but a "mommy" on jobs and healthcare), written by Eli Attie: inevitably dominated by the electoral race between Matt Santos and "Beltway Arnie" Vinick, and friction between the Santos campaign and the White House, beseiged by the NASA leak. A good episode for Josh. A bad one for Leo, who was totally absent, referred to only in terms of his cholesterol levels, which was a worrying omen in the cirumstances. Janeane Garofalo joined the cast as a fast-talking (as opposed to what?) media consultant. Preferable, certainly, to Mary Louise Parker. As usual, I caught and understood about half of what was said, and that thrills me to my bone marrow.

I am always right
Followed by a brand new Poirot on ITV1. I am a sucker for two-hour murder mysteries with an all-star cast, albeit a late convert to Monsieur Poirot. Cards On The Table had a bridge theme, and four explicit suspects, which was quite contained - although I was dummied into thinking it was the Superintendent, just as the writers intended. An interesting cast that included Zoe Wanamaker, Robert Pugh (seriously underused - that's how much these actors must want to appear in a Poirot, the TV equivalent of a Woody Allen), Tristan Gemmill (better known as DI Veal from little known sitcom Grass - always a treat to see the actors from that going on to better things) and Honeysuckle Weeks (forces' favourite from Foyle's War). It's now just gone 11pm and, knackered from exercising and doing nothing, I'm calling it a fantastic day. Not a jot of work done, not a word spoken into a microphone, not a foot stepped onto a train platform. Back to work tomorrow, and I don't even mind.