7 Weeks......

(Distance trained so far............222 miles)

Seems like a long time, but how fast can seven weeks go floating by?!! Knocked off another 29km this week; 14 of those on the Sunday morning. Whilst it is hardly a walk in the park nor am I screaming in pain and crawling off the FFG in a puddle of sweat. Considering how far the running is taking me now, joints and by other bits and pieces seem to be coping pretty well.

The target is to be running 18km (just over 11 miles) a couple of Sundays before the Great North, and thus far things are on schedule (optimism, yes; but cautious optimism). A couple of 15k's over the next couple of weeks, then 16k, followed by 17k, followed by 18k will take me to September 2nd (what's that Mr. Genie? I can have three wishes?!!.....brilliant!........I will have, my life away, my life away and my life away please!). If I get the diet right during that time it would help to be well into the 15 stones by then too. If there is any truth to the principle of 'less weight cancels out more distance' the programme I have set for myself should be very achievable (can something be very achievable? surely it either is or it isn't??!). Not ready yet....but getting there.

Two noteworthy (to me) events during this week's gym sessions. First of which was the inaugural modelling of the Adrian Blaydon 'team GB gear' (see previous post). Ooooooh yes....in my Olympic wristband and headband combo I most certainly look a total plonka, but do I care? (in case you did not understand the rhetorical nature of the question....no I don't!). If it was just the wristbands then that could almost be called fashionable (almost), but the headgear is there for practicality as I suffer from severe S.I.E.S (Sweat In Eye Syndrome; should that be S.S.I.E.S then?); and brilliant though it was at eliminating it, I fear it created a scorching case of L.L.A.R.A (Looking Like A Right Arse-itis). Still, they are nice and fluffy and do the job, so the fashion police can jog on! I confess I am thinking of getting one of the gym instructors to take a photo and add it to the 'bits and bobs' slideshow. I've been waffling along about the gym for so long it's about time you saw it; headband and all!

Event number two was achieving first verbal contact with a fellow gym-goer. Anyone who has ever gone to one will know this doesn't happen very often. I actually appreciate the fact that I can just be on my own for a while, do my thing, think my thoughts and process the events of the day gone or to come. Having said that, contact with Lynn (previously known only as 'lady in the green top....hope she washes it in between sessions or owns more than one'.....to be honest, I prefer Lynn!) was inevitable as we clearly have the same gym schedule, and we both do a lot of running invariably on neighbouring machines. She became a running-buddy quite some time ago without us exchanging so much as a 'hello'; so it was feeling a bit daft not not to break the ice.

Although the conversation was the classical exchange of minor pleasantries - not planning to go out an pick curtains or crockery just yet - I still felt that lovely buzz first felt at primary school when you 'make a new fwend'!!

If she doesn't show up at the gym tomorrow night I'm going to get such a complex.........!!

Weigh in (56)

Boooor-ing, Booooor-ing, Blaydonnnnn! Booooor-ing, Boooooooring, Blaydonnnnnnnn!

Do you know something, if I actually TRIED to stay the exact same weight (decimal point included) I wouldn't be able to; and yet for the second week running I am 16 stone 2.2 pounds. There was an
exciting moment when - on the twelfth try - the scales showed 16 stone 2 exactly (0.2 pounds off.....result!), but I can confirm that on the 13th - 21st attempts I had reverted back to the number which I can't seem to escape!

This is getting difficult. The week's diet is no worse than previous weeks when I've lost weight, but even with the increased exercise it's not having the same effect. Yes yes, I know the old 'muscle weighs more than fat' adage, but let's face it; if all the fat in my body turned to muscle I would simply become one, huge, raging bicep. A truth though it might be, it is not the kind of truth to cling to.

Boredom is something which often leads me to eat badly (and I don't think I am alone in this); but in this particular instance it is ironically motivating. You see, I am bored silly with being 16 stone 2.2 pounds, and much as I love writing to you lovely people, I am bored with telling you I am 16 stone and 2.2 pounds; if I have to do it again I am going to run out of things to say (which to anyone who really knows me, takes some doing!); just how many ways are there of saying 'nothing has happened'. It would actually be more interesting to tell you about gaining weight; not that I have any intention of doing so.

So once again it is get my head down and knuckle-down. Fortunately it is another free weekend coming up, so controlling the diet should not be a problem; not to mention the gym-thing. I have yet to discover what a totally vigilant diet combined with the current exercise regime will do for me; hopefully this will be the week. Care to take a guess? Push me below the 16 stone mark do you think?? Or is your money on 16 stone 2.2 pounds??!!! AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!

At least week 57 hasn't started with a Chinese takeaway!

As always, preferring to finish on a positive. I did a count-up after Tuesday's run, and am now a grand total of 21.2km away from completing the '2012 Olympic Challenge'. Nowwwww, let me see......with 8km scheduled for Thursday, and 14km for Sunday....what does that make boys and girls?? Carry the one, and add the number you first thought of........Yes, not only will the 201.2 milestone will be passed, it will be two weeks before challenge end!

I fully expect the gym to stop what they are doing, and gather round the FFG for that final push on Sunday morning.........ahem.......dreaming? yes! Better at least get a stuffing certificate (flashbacks of 10 metre swimming award at Primary School, one of my proudest moments...!). At the very least I will take great delight in crossing off the last box on the chart.  I can then stop worrying about having to run dirty great distances.......no wait........hang on........no I can't!!!??!!**?!

8 Weeks.........

Comes round fast duntit? It only seems 8-9 weeks since crossing the finish line in Manchester (hang on....it WAS 8-9 weeks!) and already the countdown has begun to the 2012 Great North Run! In less than eight weeks....my God....I'm really going to be doing it; running half a marathong (was a spelling mistake, but I thought I would leave it in as it does conjure up an interesting image!); thirteen miles and change. My collies have never wobbled so much let me tell you.
So how is it going, and more importantly am I going to be ready come September 16th? Well as far as the latter goes, I'd bloody well better be, cos ready or not, here it comes!!
This is sure to be the kiss of death, but on the training side, things are going pretty well (why oh why did I just put my foot in it?). The intention is to knock off a distance of 11 miles on the treadmill ('ark at me, using a phrase like 'knock off' like it's as easy as shelling peas!) a couple of weeks before the big Sunday, and considering I am now 'knocking off' 14km (just shy of 9 miles) things are looking good. I am running well, I am running further and most importantly am not feeling in the need of a defibrillator at the end of a sesh. Whatever I am doing; safari?!!! so goodie!! (if you know that reference, you are showing your age!!).
Logisticlalalllyy; B&B is booked (where the hell is Hexham anyway?!) and the plan for the day is set. It is an aspect of this type of running which I never gave much thought to before starting this madcap idea; getting to the start line with all the bits you need, and getting home from the finish. On reflection I guess I thought some magical teleportation device 'beamed' people back home (or possibly clicking your heels together three times?); but I'm learning. The logistics of the Great North are made all the more difficult by virtue of the fact that it is not a circular route, the finish is the full thirteen miles away from the start (that Brendan Foster geezer has a LOT to answer for!). But - touch wood - I know where I am staying, where I am parking, and how I will be dealing with the to'ing and the fromming. In the end, all I want to be worried about on the day of the run; is running!!
On the admin side, the justgiving site is now set up and ready to go (bit pants that I haven't collected all the sponsorship money in yet from Manchester, but almost there), and I will be having a think how I can bump up what looks to be around £500 for the British Heart Foundation into £750 for the Great North. The slight difference this time is that I am now committed to this target (it's a whole 'did you get your own place or is it through us' type of thing). Not sure what happens if I don't manage it....do they force you to sell a kidney? or ironically.......... God knows how I will get to £2000 if I get accepted for the London Marathon!! Between you and me I think I might have to break out the big guns (also known as the 'Aunties and Uncles'!!). Any other fund-raising ideas would be most welcome.
No doubt the next two months will have its fair share of challenges, but right at this moment I feel ready and confident. A few things I need to do - not the least of which is get my diet into shape....not bad but not great - but the schedule I am keeping to is getting me where I need to be so all I have to do is stick to it (simples!!).
To commemorate the eight week mark - and doffing my cap to the up-coming Olympic games - I am investing in an official Team GB wrist and head sweatband combo (designed by Stella McCartney no less! a nice change may I say from my usual George Asda). I really like them, and as the distances increase, I really need them too!!
   

Back iiiiin the saddle, a geeeeeen.....!

For those of you who are nuts about sleepless in Seattle (guilty as charged guvna), you are already way ahead of me aren't you? I thought long and hard about this divulgance (is that a word?). It is not directly concerned with running, and it is not directly concerned with eating healthily; so where's the need? The problem is that it involves purposefully taking a giant step outside my comfort zone; and as we all know.....

outside comfort zone = vulnerable = risk = failure or success = heightened emotion = potential effect on diet = distraction = I'VE GOT TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT!!

For those of you that are not paying attention, I am a single fella; have been for the best part of two years and to be quite honest I am very comfortable just the way things are. Far from being a bitter hermit, I enjoy life and have plenty to keep me out of mischief (not least of which is running my knackers off three times a week and telling you lovely people all about it). I do also have friends (honest I do!) so am not starved of company. Lately though I have been wondering about getting back into the dating game again. Great though the single life is, I've started to miss getting to know someone, going out with that someone, missing that someone, kissing that someone and sharing life with that someone - the someone in questions of course being the right someone and not an anyone someone (??!!). Whilst I don't out-and-out need a relationship - and can survive happily without it - that has got to be something worth having a crack at again hasn't it?

The trouble is, my last relationship being the best part of eight years duration, followed by a two-year romantic sabbatical (sabbatic romantical?) means.....yes......a decade of no-snuggles, no snoggles, no-'you put the phone down first's. How is it done now? Do we still have to appear at the front door with a corsage for the lady and nervously shaking the hand of the Dad while he grills me about my prospects and intentions? I confess that I didn't have much idea of how to do it ten years ago (it just kinda 'happened'), but now I am utterly clueless.

I remind myself again of Sleepless in Seattle where Tom Hanks asks advice on dating, to be told by his best mate.........

'Tiramisu....!'

'What is tiramisu??'

'You'll see!!'
'Some woman is going to want me to do it to her and I'm not gonna know what it is!!!!'

I know that people tend to be polarised when it comes to internet dating, but everything else is done online these days so why not this? Plus it presents an opportunity to start up a dialogue with someone and get to know them with the pressure of face-to-face contact postponed until you are a bit more confident of who you are talking to (and if you type something it can be vetted before sending!). So I'm going to give it a go. Not done it before, and no idea what to expect. I'd like to think it is easier than going out 'on the pull' - total rubbish at that - and I go in with an open mind.

Who knows, I might get to show someone my swatches!!

Will keep you posted.........

Weigh in (55)

I know you are all chomping at the bit for the result arentcha?! Well, it seems I too have been chomping at the bit.....too many bits in fact as I am not one decimal point lighter than last week. Still at 16 stone 2.2 pounds; crap!

Okay; positivity......I am also not one decimal point heavier (yip), and am still maintaining the gym regime (peeee!) with the latest run taking me to 13km on the good old FFG, which is classed in technical terms as a (here comes the science, are you ready for this...?) 'bloody long way'.

It is a slight worry that despite all the exercise, I have not managed to lose any weight, and a slightly bigger worry that it is difficult for me to cite any particularly naughty naughtiness to put in the debit column opposite the gym credit. Granted I had a Marks and Sparks chuck in the oven tea with Mum at the weekend, and there may have been a few other minor crimes and misdemeanours along the way; but I have done worse than that previously and still lost weight doing less exercise. Any ideas people?

Asides from declaring it as 'one of those weeks when things don't work out the way you expect', I have two theories. Firstly the two pound loss from last week may have been overly positive (I can accept an average loss of a pound per week, me not impatient man) so this week is redressing the balance. The second reason is very simple; with roughly a stone and a half or so to lose, it might just be getting harder to lose weight, previous minor slips have now become major ones. Fine tuning is now required, as is even more vigilance in keeping it to three simple meals a day (which don't take up a whole dinner plate), plenty of veg, no nibbling between meals and keeping up the exercise. Progress may be slower, but progress it still will be.

The worst possible day would be if I stop losing - or start gaining - weight with genuinely and honestly no clue as to what I've done wrong, but that is not this day. Even as I write I am having flashbacks of the last week, and whilst not so much as a grain of fried rice has passed my lips, the cumulative effect of extra helpings as well as the globs of margarine which have started to find their way onto food - quite by accident I assure you.......ahem - are sure to have taken their toll. Note to self.......just because I don't have takeaway food does not entitle me to have three times as much volume of what I DO eat (you great wally!). Great isn't it? I have rewarded myself for the sacrifice of not eating bad food, by eating so much food that it's bad for you!

So, armed with this new-found logic, on to next week......just wish it hadn't started with a Chinese last night.........I know I know. Got my work cut out haven' I?
  

The Movies..........Big Child Old Field

I know that the cinema is often thought of as a first date kind of venue (heaven knows why you would want to get to know someone by sitting in silence in a dark room for over two hours, but there it is!); often associated with rampant snogging in the back seat without really paying attention to what is happening on-screen (really unwise for U and PG films, when the action in the auditorium reaches a 15 or 18!). The closest I came (and in case you were wondering, the closest really wasn't very close) was with a lovely Japanese girl called Hiroko Furuta whom I encountered at university.
Even to this day I am totally convinced that the main reason we became friends was that she could not understand a single word I was saying (not just English, but northern English; sometimes I swear that our conversations were actually two separate ones going on at the same time!), nevertheless friends we became. She was a foreign student (no way!.............WAY!) and occasional badminton player stationed at the beautifully named Florence Nightingale Hall of Residence (named after.........have a guess......that's correct.....a character out of The Magic Roundabout).
Much of the time we confined ourselves to the university campus; however one of the few occasions we did venture beyond the boundaries was a trip to see 'Beauty and the Beast' ('barely even friends, then somebody bends; unexpectedly'....top line that). Yes, it is a Disney film; and yes, I love Disney films!
Now, in retrospect, given my propensity for crying at movies it may not have been the ideal movie selection; but at the time, it seemed like the best way to show Hiroko my sensitive, in-touch-with-my-feelings side; how was I to know just how much of my sensitive, in-touch-with-my-feelings side she was going to see!!
This is one film which I trust needs no explanation; the classic story of a monster who learns the true meaning of love, with it's obligatory happy ending; and therein lies the problem. As the beastie boy dies, to be replaced by a very much alive handsome prince (in the way only Disney can do, all whistles and bells and shooting stars) I started with a sniffle followed by a few tears. Although managing to keep it fairly quiet - avoiding the outrageous sobbing reserved only for DIY SOS (see previous post) - it was nevertheless not a pretty sight to be beheld; in the end the waterworks were in full flow, and I confess that snot was involved (sparing nothing in the description here folks; this is fatmantofitman...RAW!).
It was when I glanced round at my Japanese friend that I realised something......she does not cry at movies.......!! Instead of tears rolling down her cheeks I can only describe her expression as one of bewildered amusement as she was much more interested in what I was doing than what was happening on the screen. As our eyes met, I knew it was a moment I was never going to forget....and believe me, I have tried!!! The only saving grace is that my vision was blurred.

She never talked to me again after that day.......

Naaaaah, just kidding. Despite the damp mess I had become during the movie (and the miserable attempt at asking her 'sniff-heh-splutter-did-sniff-splutter-heh-heh-younjoy-heh-splutter-thfilm?') she seemed unperturbed, I assume that - in the absence of any other point of reference - that 'that is what English men do at films'.

Whilst we continued to be friends, as always happens - regretfully - when her year in the UK was up, she returned to Tokyo and we lost touch. Sad though that might be, I look on it with a sense of relief, as if she had stayed any longer her English might have improved enough for her to understand me, realising that I was talking a load of nonsense all the time; or even worse, we might have ended up going to the cinema again.....

Oh, and for those of you wondering about the blogpost title; apparently 'big child old field' is the literal translation of Hiroko Furuta. It's probably just me, but I think that is SO cool!

The Movies.........Roseannas Grave/For Roseanna

Number three in the Ady top five (incidentally, I am not ranking these.....it's tough enough just to pick the buggers!) is another one that few people have heard of. Although much more recent than City Lights, it could hardly be called mainstream; but to those happy few who know of it, it is quiet, understated little sachet of beauty.
On the face of things; the storyline seems sooooo morbid. An Italian couple - very much in love - are facing the dreadful reality that the wife is suffering from a terminal heart condition. The dying womans only wishes are for her husbands happiness, and for her to be buried in the grave next to their daughter who died some years before. Isn't that a laugh a bloody minute?!!
In actual fact, what we get is a touching, funny, and at times heart-wrenchingly emotional story. The town graveyard is filling up fast, with only three plots left - and with the chances of his wife getting her dying wish fading fast - the man spends his days patrolling the town in a valiant effort to keep everyone alive! He runs into gangsters, suicides, fake suicides, amorous mistresses, frozen dead bodies, and a bitter millionaire with the power to sell land to the church to extend the graveyard - thus ensuring the wifes final wish is granted; but why doesn't he??!..........
So we have the storyline, and we have the zany - if a little black - comedy; but surely that's not enough. What else? What is it that elevates it? What is it that makes me misty-eyed to think of it? It is one simple word.......and that word.......is love. If there was ever a movie-marriage I would want, this is it. Throughout the story, I am sucked in by their openness, their partnership, their positivity, their humour, their honesty, their empathy, their deep knowledge of and respect for each other, and their childish exuberance at just being alive, and being together. It is quite beautiful. They form a unit that has resolve so strong nothing can diminish it, not even death. (As a shaker of spears once wisely said.......'love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds'..........hell yes!).
Scenes of the couple sitting on a hill overlooking the village, and the mother sat in the graveyard talking to her daughter steal the heart; for the record may I say that if I had a woman who talked about me the way she does about her husband at that moment I would be.....well.......chuffed is not the word but you get the general idea.
We know that the story is going to reach an inevitable conclusion - no miracle cures here - but rather than grief, I am left with an impression of the truest of loves; two people who want to make every single day of their lives count, and a man who will do anything to make his wifes dreams come true. I ask you, who can fail to be moved by that?
.......as usual when I write about one of these films.......I now want to watch it again!!

Olympic Challenge - Update

Previously, on Fatmantofitman.....

Our slightly waffly hero - in addition to the whole running marathons and half marathons thing - was cruelly goaded (artistic licence) into accepting the gym challenge of running 201.2km in the ten week period from June 1st, to August 12th. Is he equal to it?.......the world teeters in a perpetual state of hook tenteredness (does anyone know how to tenter a hook?).....and now, the next exciting installment of......Olympic Challenge 2012........

I accept that at some point in our lives we could all benefit from a dose of counselling, or even psychotherapy.......reading the above just reinforces my conviction that no amount of either will help me.

Progress is marked on a grid which is up there for all to see; 2km per square, and once you've ticked them all off you've done the do. Therein however lies the problem, as the whole challenge is dependant on honesty; and between you and me, there are so many porky pies flying around on that board I could start my own delicatessen counter! We have the people who completed the task about a month ago (yeah right), followed by my own personal favourite....the ones who have not had one single, solitary, lonely, tiny little mark on their chart since challenge start, and now - in the space of a week - there are so many x's on there it is a veritable kissing marathon.

Not bitter about it, just amused (and I accept there is a chance all of them are in fact being honest.......ahem.......cough.....cough......splutter......'RUBBISH'.....cough......splutter); this challenge is a personal challenge (as of course is this whole running thing), and I am pleased to report that the slightly waffly hero is currently bang on schedule to cross all his boxes in plenty of time. It is quite exciting as the guys in the rows above and below are neck and neck with me; each time I go I get my nose in front (truthfully of course; honest as the day is 22 hours long, that's me!); but sadly, so do they!!   

My biggest concern is what we get if we succeed. Really should have negotiated this before starting it. Best case, medal; middle-of-the-road, certificate; if it's a pat on the back and a 'well-done', heads will roll, mark my words!

Weigh in (54)

(Distance trained so far......173.5 miles)

Well chuck me in a dustbin and call me Oscar, if I haven't done it again! Two pounds off leaves me knocking at the door (oh go ooooon; let me iiiiiiiin!!) of the fifteens at 16 stone 2 pounds (actual loss 1.8 pounds; actual weight 16 stone 2.2....don't feel like quite such a fraud when I'm rounding down only 0.2 of a pound!). Oh, and I confirm that a low battery has no effect on the read-out of leccy bathroom scales (do I get arrested for using mine in the kitchen?) - although if I wait until the battery is completely dead, does that mean I weigh nothing at all?.......straws.....clutching..... - as there is a brand spanking new one now fitted (sorry about that, I was using brackets and hyphens at the same time; the literary equivalent of drinking wine and beer; it does make sense, if you read it about fifteen times).

To be honest, there would have been something seriously wrong with the earths gravitational pull if there had been no improvement on last weeks improvement (do you understand that? if you do, could you explain it to me?). It's been a good week; eating carefully, and knocked off 25km at the gym; including 12km on Sunday morning (12km!!! that's like....almost 8 miles!).

The only blot on the copybook was Papa G's on Friday night. There is never going to be an ultra-healthy option in one of those places (unless you sit there for three hours and watch other people eat while drinking a glass of water..........and the next pig departing from runway three is......) I went for a tried and tested BBQ chicken burger with fat chips (only about four big 'uns; so less fat, more food); tried and tested as I've had it before during a good weight-loss week. Not that I'm saying I could get away with eating it every night; unless I am prepared to run 25km, per day! Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed it; there was also something rather cathartic about that night (full circle if you will) as I went with my sister to see 'The Amazing Spiderman'.....hmmmm.....Spiderman......the cinema......my sister........that sounds so familiar...........

So as usual; onwards and downwards. I'm not going to make broad statements like 'I've got over the sticky patch' (yep, just did; pretend I didn't say it.......); I'll just get the head down, and get on with it. On Mum duty this Saturday so there is likely to be some naughtiness in the form of Marks and Sparks' chuck in the oven stuff followed up by a couple of custard tarts (better not get them mixed up; by the way, could someone remind me to buy series 2 of Downton Abbey in time for Saturday? I only put it on because Mum likes it......honest.....) and then the unlucky for some but hopefully not for me 13km on Sunday morning. Doubt I will be in the 15's this time next week, but if I manage to keep focused it will be close!!

The Movies.........The Davvy

You remember the old adage 'I remember when all this was fields'? The words - or variants thereof -usually uttered by the older generation, to communicate some wistful longing of days gone by; and more often than not the loss of an environment enjoyed by them when they were the younger generation. In my humble opinion, to use a phrase like this in the twenties (as in age, not year of our Lord!) is just too soon, and yet in 1999 - in the the name of (slightly biased? yep) needless progress - I lost just such a piece of my childhood; the Davenport Theatre.

Situated not more than ten minutes walk away from my childhood home (just long enough for the excitement to kick in), to have such a large theatre so near was extraordinary. Just a quick walk through the snicket, past Clarks newsagents, over the big, metal, monster railway bridge (up-right-up-left-across-right-down-left-down....clanging all the way) and there it was. We were so lucky; I know.

I tell you my friends, the movies I saw there, the experiences I had there......!

• Being dragged there by my brother under the impression we were seeing Chitty sodding stuffing Chitty Bang bloody Bang (the films actual full name dontcha know?!) - boooooooo! - only to be surprised when 'The Black Hole' started - yaaaaaaaaaay! Yes I know, looking at it now, it was a TERRIBLE movie, but at six years old I thought it was BRILLIAAAAANT!
• The incident with the carnivorous chair......think I may have mentioned that one.
• Going to see Superman II with three brothers, and finding it SOOOO exciting that, while sat in the stalls next to one, the other two (exploding shorts and helping him move) were sat in the dress circle above. They were up there, but I couldn't see them!!!!
• Watching a double bill of Star Wars and Empire Strikes Back and feeling desperate at the thought of Han Solo being stuck in carbonite for over three years.
• Mrs. Davies - GCSE Biology at my school; about 40 minutes bus journey from home, oh...and did I mention she was my first experience (not the last!) of olderwomancrushitis - going to see Good Morning Vietnam at MY cinema. That slotted into the exciting category of 'teacher doing normal things'!!!
• Going to the Davenport Minor, which had a screen about the size of the laptop I am currently typing on.....but cosy was NOT the word for it. Crimson decor; outstanding!
• The organist and organ at the interval.....rising up through the floor of the stage playing a medley which whatever the weather always included 'Oooooh, I do like to be beside the seeeeeasiiiiiide'!
• The first few images of the picture projected on the curtain as it was being raised (I miss curtains in cinemas)
• Pearl and Dean (ba-baa, ba-baa, ba-baa, ba-baa, baba-baa, ba-baa, ba-baa, ba-baa, ba-baaaaaaaa, BA!!!)!
• The first solo - without parents or older siblings, just schoolmates - films; feeling all growed up.

You can gather from all the above, it is safe to say that this establishment formed a significant part of my childhood! Then, as time wore on, University and maturity (sort of) beckoned, and it became a beacon (yes, you heard it.....a beacon!!). About three minutes before arriving at Davenport station, the train took us about a hundred metres behind the cinema; innocuous from the rear, but instantly recognisable by the big white 'D' painted on the back of the building........almost home.

Then, one day I came home and the D was no longer there. I discovered later that the neighbouring school purchased the place, and within a week, it was rubble; making way for - yes, you guessed it - a car park. Mercifully it was quick enough for me not to see its gradual demise, as it would have made an unpleasant experience nothing short of devastating. Yes, yes, I understand that with the advent of how-many-showings-can-we-cram-into-our-thirteen-screens multiplexes; theatres like the Davenport are always going to struggle for survival (and invariably fail in that struggle). Understanding it doesn't make me feel any better about it though. It is weird to mourn the loss of a building; or am I mourning the loss of childhood Sigmund?

That said, I can take great comfort in the fact that the organ which magically emerged through the floor of the Davvy, now proudly emerges through the floor of Stockport Plaza; a theatre which has been fully-restored in the old-style, and with local council and considerable voluntary support is flourishing. I can also be grateful that, despite its ultimate demise, the Davenport Theatre was there when I needed it most. I miss it, and I thank it.

Weigh in (53)

Well ladies and gents, that really is a turn up for the books (blogs?). This week has nutritionally been a bit of a disaster; let's not mince words here eh? tell it like it is! It was all going so well until the Chinese buffet/bananas and custard/Chinese takeaway triple-whammy at the weekend. Then, to really round things off beautifully, it was our managing directors birthday yesterday. Obligatory cakes were bought, only for his grand kids to come visit him with another one they made earlier (as it turned out, not much earlier as it was still warm out of the oven!). Yes, I could have turned both cakes down.... .....and well, I didn't turn down the first.................ahem.............or the second.......

I'm less annoyed about the weekend - see previous post - but very annoyed at my resolve with the cakes, not to mention the naughty pre-bedtime sandwich eating going on aswell (I didn't mention that did I?.....cat......bag......). Lately it seems so much temptation is everywhere, not counting those fat-traps which have always been there, waiting for poor, unsuspecting me to come along and clart right into them. I'm also suffering from a scorching case of 'look how far I'm running everyone, aren't I BRILLIANT??!!; now that should earn me the right to eat like a troll shouldn't it?!!' I need a stern talking to that the reward of all this exercise is not getting to eat stuff; it is in losing weight, feeling better, getting fitter and living longer (did I miss anything out?). A choice like thathas got to be the definitive no-brainer.

Like last week, I feared the weigh-in worst; however, yet again pleasantly surprised I am (Christ, I'm talking like Yoda!). An official one pound off, taking me to 16 stone 4 pounds (actual weight: 16 stone......4 pounds dead, actual weight loss: 0.8 pounds). It has been a case of little steps lately, but thankfully they continue to be little steps in the right direction. Don't worry, in the midst of all the above annoyances, I am still chuffed to bits!

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Well, if you're thinking 'blimey; if he's still losing weight with what he has been eating, how much would he be able to lose if he really regained control of his diet', then yes, you are thinking what I'm thinking! This should be the week. Regular gym visits, no major social engagements, no distractions, no work birthdays, and a weekend free from obligations to let me focus gives me every chance to get the right balance of exercise and diet which I've not managed to achieve for quite a few weeks. Should make next weeks weigh-in very interesting!

The only nagging doubt is that - as I mentioned last week - the battery on the scales is running low. Does anyone know whether low power makes a set of electronic scales register inaccurately low? If it does then I am sooooooooooooo screwed!

New battery next week, promise!!

Oh what a niiiiiiight.........laaaate June, back in in 2012

Blimey, that was a weekend and a half. If ever I wanted an idea of how far I have come in the last twelve months, the last 48 hours have given me all I need to know. Granted it is not something I would wish to repeat on too regular a basis (comes under the category of 'busybusybusybusybusy..... ......Christ, it's Monday??!!), but to be still standing - unaided; just about - come Sunday night is a real achievement and testament that at time of writing, I am now much more fitman than fatman.
The mission I chose to accept was.....
Up at daft o'clock on Saturday morning and make my way over to my brothers (not the exploding shorts one, the one who came to support me in the badminton final one), to help him move house to Sheffield; little knowing that involved in said moving were, not one, but two.....TWO PIANOS!!!!..... ......yes.............you heard me...........let's count them together shall we.....one piano......two pianos..... .......definitely two.....what the bloody hell is he trying to do? be the first, non-electric Howard Jones??!! In the end, we only managed to shift one; the other one seemed to be weighed down by concrete - either that or was Loctited to the floor. We couldn't lift it, couldn't even shift it, we were getting nowhere, so we 'ad a cappa.....WHOAH.....bit of a Cribbins moment there; my apologies....now, where was I? Yes, much lugging of furniture, not to mention some death defying stunts in manouevring the piano on and off the tailgate, and all in the middle of biblical-proportion showers (rain, not bathroom).

About quarter past six and heading home, arriving just in time to dive (figuratively) into the shower, put my semi-glad (mildly chuffed?) rags on and head out to the end of season badminton bash (Chinese buffet and ten-pin bowling; more on this later). It is here that the old me would be wimping out; texting on the way home that I am 'stuck in Sheffield', feeling too exhausted to entertain the idea of socialising with friends, opting for the comfortably familiar territory of my Edenfield sofa and some rubbish on TV. The new me? A bit late arriving at the do, but had a blast (like I said....more later.....don't be so impatient!!) and the dirty stop-out wasn't back until 2am.

Sunday morning.....and slept through the alarm; finally surfacing about half ten; a time when you would usually see me three quarters of the way through the gym routine. Another chance for the old me to have a day off from the gym and loll (note spelling, NOT laughing out loud!), yet I managed to drag myself to the leisure centre, to find that the place had been invaded by a 'schoolboys football championship', turning what was a nice peaceful Sunday morning car park into a log jam, screaming the mental message 'don't think so!' at me through the windscreen. Then, on parking in a side street, came the sternest test of resolve.....forgetting my towel.... Faced with an 11km run (longest run so far), tired after the house move and a late night out, no towel, and the certainty that if I went home for it there is no way I would re-merge before Monday morning; I was on the brink of calling it a day. VICTORYYYYYY!! Not only did I go, I did the 11km!!!! Get in there my son!!!!!! Granted, the post-gym, unshowered (bathroom, not rain) shopping trip round Tesco's was a bit stinky - and I was completey banjaxed after that - but definitely elated. Chalk one up for the fat/fit guy.
So anyway, on to Saturday night (I know, you've been waiting for this haven't you?!); top night!! First; the Chinese buffet. To kick it off, despite being late, the guys had saved me a seat in mid-table rather than being stuck on the latecomers naughty end, which gave me a warm fudgy feeling inside (aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!). The meal was lovely, but the desserts......OOOOOOH THE DESSERTS!! Granted, they were distinctly unchinesey (anyone any idea what a Chinese dessert is!); but they afforded me a truly spritual experience, one which instantly regressed me to a ten year old (some would say that is not a big leap....). Alongside the little cupcakes, the cornflake cakes (no I am not kidding) and jelly (still not kidding); there was a biiiiiiiiiiiig bowl of - almost shuddering as I type this - bananas and custard........BANANAS AND CUSTARD!!!!! Joy of unfettered joys!! Not had that for decades, and for the life of me I cannot think why; by God it was good, and really did taste like Mum used to make! On reflection it's a flipping good job I didn't see that bowl when I first arrived as I would have started, mained, and desserted with it.

If that meal, followed by a couple of friendly games of tenpin had been the sum total of the night, I would have gone home blissfully happy; but the double act known as Mandy and Jo had the idea of 'spicing things up a bit'. The second game would be a normal one, but the first comprised of the
following........

1. Normal bowling
2. One leg
3. Other hand
4. Using the 'zimmer'
5. Backwards (through the legs)
6. Kneeling/sitting
7. Slow-motion
8. Two handed
9. Blind!!
10. Bumpers up (two bounces)

I think the two lanes of seven people broke the record for the longest game of tenpin in history; and to say we got some strange looks from neighbouring lanes would be something of an understatement. Much laughter, much micky-taking, and fortunately as explaining this in words will clearly not cut it, much snapping of photographs; a select few of which (edited to protect the entirely guilty) will shortly be added to 'bits and bobs' on the right!

Yes yes, I know that the diet may have taken a bit of a hit on Saturday - and I am also loathed to confess that I succumbed to a Chinese takeaway on Sunday night too - but sometimes I think you just have to let go and enjoy. Notwithstanding the sins of the weekend I am still quite optimistic about tonights weigh in; feeling good and knocking off the kilometres. Might be singing a different tune when I get on the scales, but as always, fingers crossed!!