Saturday, 4 September 2010

crawling back onto the wagon

Well for starters, if I had to pick an '80s BBC theme tune to kick things off, it would have to be this funky little number. (Pete - you sure you're not related to David Hemery? There's something in the nose...)

Unfortunately, this doesn't reflect the reality of the last 10 days, which has been a little less intense. In fact, it's been bloody awful. The week lording it in Paris (never made it  past that one jog), was followed by another in Somerset (pasta, creme, chocolate), and rounded off with a 3 day Belgium beer bender in Brussels. I've checked, and unfortunately wheat beer does not require more energy to digest than it yields - I'm confusing beer with Rob's (our host) emaciating humour.

And having been looking at the bike each morning this week as an overly-stuffed vegan eyes a cold kebab, it was only yesterday that I managed to haul myself back into some exercise. Even if the bathroom scales were sprinkled in broken glass I wouldn't be stepping up with more trepidation this coming Sunday.

But as a one legged can crusher once said, with every challenge comes opportunity. In less than 14 days I'm going to be living in a suit for a week. I tried mine on this morning, a dangerously tight fit, with my dignity resting  on the strength of a rather small, strained button. So it's either get a body-shaping vest, or hit the exercise every day until then. That'll hopefully get me back on target, which has started to slip out of reach.

"I want my money back"

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