I don’t like getting sunburned.

I don’t think many people do, but I really really hate it. I am also bitter when it happens because I think I’ve been robbed by genetics at its cruelest. My father is quite dark and could be mistaken for a southern European. Sit him in front of a 40-watt bulb and he bronzes in just minutes. My sister and brother have both inherited his toning, plus his dark hair and brown eyes.

My Mum is Irish. Though she has dark hair, she is green-eyed and very fair skinned, and will burn if outside for more than a couple of minutes. I err on the side of my mother when it comes to toning. This means I will invariably go red in the sun, but thanks to my Dads genes I’ll turn brown over the course of a few days (if it doesn’t all peel off first of course).

To prevent sunburn I use sun cream like everyone else, usually somewhere between 10-15 SPF, which is what I used at the Superstars weekend in Brighton. Unfortunately, it now appears that doing exercise weakens it’s effect as it simply washes off when you start to sweat. It does not mention this on the bottle, but it’s fine for swimming, apparently. An hour in Preston Park doing Dips & Squats and a bleep test and I might as well have suncreamed myself using margarine.

As a result, today, I am more than a little burned.

First comment in the office on Monday morning, “Christ Angry, haven’t you heard of suncream?”. The people here are very witty.

This will continue until about Wednesday morning, when either I will have shed an entire layer of skin, or I will finally be brown. At the moment I don’t know which it will be, but I have my fingers crossed.

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