Warming Up

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I am two people. Or as heavy as two people. But it's almost like there's a Me1 and a Me2 (someone should do a podcast about it). When Me2 is in charge I am reluctant to exercise and eat crap and (in the old days) would drink booze and feel great about myself. When Me1 wrestles the controls off him I eat healthily and exercise and feel great about myself.

There must be a switch inside me somewhere that can get flicked one way or the other, like an internal clitoris (don't flick those unless the owner says they like that - your Subbuteo training does not translate).

In August, in Edinburgh and Crete, it was very much stuck on glutton setting, but since I got back two and a bit weeks ago I've managed to nudge it back and am living like a saint who lives on top of a pole (but has some exercise equipment up there).

Soleros aside, I am resisting processed food and sweet stuff (I even turned down birthday cake this afternoon) and am not even craving Giant Chocolate Buttons, let alone stuffing them all in my face before anyone sees me, so they don't even touch the sides.

Today I did Park Run for the first time in a few months. The last two times I tried I had to withdraw, the second time before I even hit one kilometre. I just rounded the lake and went straight to my car. To be fair I had that horrible bug that sapped all my energy and lasted for about four months.

I didn't give up today and although the last kilometre was a bit tougher than usual, I got round in 32 minutes and one second - pretty slow for me, but my personal best for this year (somehow- though I think I only did a couple of slow runs in January before I got ill).

Good to see the patriots of Stevenage have covered pretty much every lamp post with an England flag or Union flag or in one case one of those royal banners with lions on it (personally I'd prefer to see an indigenous animal on there, like a badger, not one of those dangerous animal immigrants). I'd imagine that it would be an absolutely chilling sight to anyone who didn't want England to be for the English (and you know, only certain English people, you know what my flag is saying), but they are missing the point. It's another art project designed to show the decline of the British empire. It starts off proud and successful and well behind the idea of people turning up in boats and claiming they have a right to live there (as long as it's us in the boats), but as the days and weeks pass, the flags get weather-beaten, torn, dirty and are too high up to easily remove. And that's where England is now.

Thanks to all the Wanksies who have taken part in this, though I am not sure all of them knew what they were doing.