Me, Catholic? With These Legs?

I have learnt something today. I now know why I could never be religious. Specifically, I now know why I could never be a Catholic....................I'm too unfit!!
I have been to a funeral for a mate's mum. My mate is about as religious as a man who sacrifices chickens in the garden at midnight while smearing himself in the resultant blood so I'm sure he will not mind what follows. You see, it was a Catholic service and............................I was knackered by the end of it!!!
Up, down, up, down, kneel, stand, sit, stand from a kneeling position, sit from a kneeling position, stand, sit, drop and give me 20. Hell's teeth! It was just bloody Pilates for Papes!!
Why can't they just make their minds up, that's what I want to know? "Today, at this special crumblies service, we shall be sitting to praise God but there will be a standing service for the younger members of the parish this evening and an SAS assault course-style, up-down-up-down mass for those of you trying to keep fit tomorrow morning." It's hard enough trying to get comfortable on a polished plank at the best of times without some guy barking at you to jump to it! I am sure the numbers posted on the board behind the priest were not the hymns - just marks from the judges!
Another thing, while they sang some of the hymns in the traditional standing position, they also sang some while sitting down. I bet they regularly taunt the Proddies down the road with chants of "Sing when you're standing, you only sing when you're standing!" I was all over the bloody place. Standing when I should have been sitting, sitting when I should have been hopping on one leg, kneeling when everyone else was doing the conga. It is not only exhausting being a Catholic, it is very confusing as well.
They did give out refreshments towards the end of the service, though, which was nice. Mind you, the sandwiches were bloody thin and when I asked the priest for a topper of wine he just looked at me quizzically. In fact, he was so poor a host he actually wrestled the goblet back off my soon-to-be ex-wife just as she was getting her drinking head on.
Anyway, I think religion is not for me. I have done all the theological investigations necessary and, having come to the conclusion that it is all bollocks, already decided that I was "a man with no invisible means of support". Now I know about the fitness regime they operate, particularly in the Catholic Church, I think I will definitely stick to having a lie-in on Sunday mornings.
Sorry, religion can go to Grantham.