What did you do in rehab today?

This morning I found myself sitting in the bar of a rather run-down 5-a-side football club beside a dual carriageway, watching in dismay as a handful of old men dribbled in and sat down. One of the men seemed younger than the others, but the taut, slightly startled expression was a bit of a giveaway. I think he may have succumbed to the pastic surgeon's knife. Certainly he looked and sounded like a man who spent a lot of time moisturising.I was the only woman there. Apart from face-lift man, I was younger than all the others in the group by at least 15 years, 25 years in some cases.

It was obvious that nobody there (except face-lift man) understood what was meant by, 'wear something you can exercise in.' They were all wearing old-man trousers pulled up to their armpits and buttoned-up shirts, socks and highly polished leather lace-up shoes. I was in a loose T-shirt, cropped trousers and trainers.

Imagine, if you can, three women aged between 19 and 45, all on the chunky side, extolling the virtues of exercise in voices that are normally used in a play-group. A powerpoint slide show presentation was given and, in case any of us couldn't read, it was read out to us. Very slowly. I spent the time looking at the spelling, punctuation and layout mistakes and trying to remind myself that two of these women were nurses, not secretaries, and the 19-year-old was ... well, she was probably good at PE at school and ended up being 'an exercise professional'. Whatever that is.

The more I thought about being there, the more depressed I became. When we'd listened to the presentation and been asked questions about it ('So, can any of you tell me what the benefits are of exercise?' 'Yes,' laughed one old geezer. 'It gets me away from the wife.') we then went into our exercise programme. Walking on the spot. Swinging our arms. Walking around the room. Bending our knees.

'Come along, get those knees up!' one of the jolly nurses said. 'Try a little jogging on the spot!'

With size H boobs? In front of 7 elderly men with heart disease? I did them all a favour and refused. I didn't want the shock to kill them.

By the time we broke for a drink of water I was so angry at being there I was close to tears. Oldest nurse asked me how I was. Well, I'm nothing if not honest.

'I really resent being here, having to be here. Everyone else is retired and treating this like an outing. I have to go to work after this. I feel better and fitter than I have done for at least two years but I've been told I can't go back to the gym before I've completed this ... this ... programme and all I want to do is get back to a normal life, not waste my time here.'

To her credit, she didn't try and jolly me along (or I think I'd have walked out there and then) and did seem sympathetic. I guess she was surprised to see someone my age in a cardiac rehab group, and she did say that I could probably leave after week 6 instead of waiting until week 8.

I might have felt a little better if there had been some other women in the group, or at least someone my own age. As it was, I spent two hours surrounded by elderly men, most of whom didn't appear to have heard of deoderant. To add insult to injury, the showers were out of order.

It's going to be a very, very long five weeks.