I am told that, at this time of year, many people head for the gym. The nearest I ever get to one is passing it on my way to the coffee shop.

Apparently, new year’s resolutions are made in an effort to streamline bodies and tone muscles. My 85-year-old body would not respond well to the exercise required for that. My only ambition is to live to 100. I promised my grandson, Joseph, I would do that so I am highly motivated, as he would be very cross if I didn’t make it.

My doctor, Deborah, plays a pivotal role in my longevity. On Monday, I went to see her so that she could administer the three-monthly injection in my knee to ease the pain and inflammation. She told me to take it easy for a while. What do you mean, exactly, I asked. Well, no long walks for the next three days. I tried not to show my joy at the idea of guilt-free hanging around the house, but I could not suppress the huge smile on my face.

Walking home, my first thought was I should tell Natalie not to come on Wednesday. But that was three days away – better not. I first met Natalie when she ran an exercise class in a local church hall before Covid. I attended sporadically, but for me it was one of the perks of the pandemic when the class had to close. Those couple of years with little activity left me feeling that I needed to get going before I seized up completely. I rang her and because she lives very close by she agreed to help me.

Now, Natalie comes every week. The family call her my personal trainer but that’s a step too far for me.

When she arrives, I try my best to engage her in conversation to delay the inevitable. She indulges me but not for long enough and we set to it. We start off with walking on the spot to warm up and then I proceed to do 10 sit-to-stands and then another 10 with weights in my hands. Fair play to her, she does allow short breaks for me to get my breath back. Out to the stairs then and up and down I go on the last two steps for what seems like eternity. I try not to let her see me looking at my watch, but that’s difficult when you are propped up against the wall doing press-ups. Arm exercises involving a blue band and lots of stretching come next. We use that blue band to do a golf swing exercise which is good for my core, she says. A bit of balance work and we are nearly there.

Natalie has invented a delightful way to end our session. We throw a balloon to one another until I can take no more. I thank her and we say goodbye and see you next week through gritted teeth.

[ Ann Ingle: I’m 84 and minimising my possessions, so I leave hardly anything behindOpens in new window ]

I try my best to do at least some of these contortions on my own during the week. I find waiting for the kettle to boil is a good time to go up and down on my toes. It is disastrous to sit for too long and I try to remember to move every 15 minutes or so, even if it is just to walk across the room.

Exercise for me is a chore and it’s not because I’m 85, I’ve always been that way. At school I dreaded netball practice. The sports ground was miles away and I had to walk there. I dawdled, a tendency I have to this day. When I arrived late, the action was under way so I sat on a bench watching my schoolfriends cavorting in the mud. Nobody seemed to mind me sitting it out. They obviously knew they were better off without me.

The tennis courts were nearer, so not so much walking involved and I almost enjoyed that. Nobody seemed to have noticed as yet that I needed spectacles, so balls kept whizzing past me. I tried to stay as close to the net as possible to get a better chance of seeing the ball and to avoid unnecessary exertion.

Physically speaking, I was a disaster.

I nearly killed a girl in the gymnastics class. No walking involved, just a lot of swinging of arms. We did it to music. Clubs in hand, we would lift and swing, swing and lift, but I let go and the club went flying, narrowly missing one of my schoolfriends.

Swimming in the sea was the only “sport” I ever liked when I was younger. Now, when I am on holiday in Spain, I am escorted into the pool by my daughter and feel like a girl again.

[ Health experts stress importance of strength training for older peopleOpens in new window ]

It’s not that I’m lazy, but deliberately going out of my way to move for no particular reason has never appealed to me. When I was bringing up my eight children there was a lot of physical work involved, but there was a purpose to that and it came easily to me. Some might think it is a pity I have waited until I am in my 80s to exercise regularly and they may be right.

It’s never too late is how I look at it.

It’s Thursday now and I am back to my daily walk. Come rain or shine I do this because, although it’s taken me years, I now know it is essential for me to keep moving. I live in Phibsborough so you might think I am confined to walking the streets. Not so, because I live close to the Blessington Basin, one of the best kept secrets in Dublin and when I am there with the ducks and pigeons and the water I could be anywhere in the world. I am not far from the Botanic Gardens, although I can only manage that on good days. On days when I don’t feel so energetic, I might take a turn up and down the aisles of the local Tesco. Coffee shops are good destinations, especially in the cold weather.

Move it or you’ll lose it, that’s what they say. I want to stay mobile right up to my 100th birthday.

Good luck with that, says you.

[ Mobility issues? Here is a short workout you can do in a chairOpens in new window ]