Subject Of The Month - HO HO HO!!!!

Nope, not gardening tips.......Christmas!!!!

I actually have Christmas to thank for getting back into the blogging routine. I promised you this time last year that yuletide celebrations would be the subject of the month for 2012 (too bone idle to do it in 2011 I guess), and with time ticking away before we hear the familiar jingle-jangle of sleigh bells outside the bedroom window on the night of the 24th of December (my stalker really does need to stop doing that.....) I need to get my backside in gear.

For me - as for most people young and old - Christmas is a time of celebration; but I also find it a fascinating phenomenon (try saying that after ten pints). It is an occasion the meaning and significance of which often changes as you get older, it is also an occasion capable of such love, kindness and togetherness in one house, whilst next door the four walls are vibrating to the yelling and screaming of blazing arguments as tensions are stretched beyond breaking point. It seems to heighten every emotion; both positive and negative.

I am very glad to relate that in the stories you will hear during this subject of the month, the walls will only be vibrating to the sound of joy, laughter, wrapping ripping paper, Christmas carols and traditional pop songs ('Slade The Herald Angels Sing' and all that) and games; as was usually the case in our house. I am likewisely pleased to report that as much as I fall in and out of love with the whole thing in the run up to the big day, come December the 25th that childhood feeling of fun always creeps its way back into my heart.

So in between running sessions and weigh-ins, I will be taking you on a - very quick! - journey of an Adrian Christmas; some of the stories which meant so much to me, the movies, the traditions, the feelings, the songs. So where do we start? How about when Christmas really starts for me?

Ask Kate Rusby (terrific singer; to be highly recommended) and she would tell you that Christmas officially begins when the Christmas Radio Times comes out, ask many people and they will tell you that the point at which Christmas becomes real is when they are putting up and decorating their tree, some purists may even say that Christmas starts at 12:01am on December 25th (booooooooooriiiiiiinggggg); my Christmas however starts differently (different?......who? me????!).

There is a song, a song which to me is completely and absolutely Christmas. In Dulci Jubilo by Mike Oldfield comes close, Little Town by Cliff Richard even closer, but this song is so full of joy that it's first play of the yule year is anticipated, prepared for, and ultimately relished; it is at that point that Christmas truly begins. I have already planned it for this year; it will be Thursday afternoon in the car as I am wending my way home to the chilly North-West from the slightly less chilly Hertfordshire.

So what is the tune? You are sure you will know it won't you? But you won't. It is not famous, it is damn near impossible to find; but 'Ding Dong Merrily On High' by The Cambridge Buskers is to me, the music of Christmas. Pure joy, pure, positive power. It makes me smile, it makes me dance; and in an instant it reminds me of all that is good about Christmas. If you can find it and download it, play it loud and I promise you, you will not be disappointed. You will also be one of the few people to be in on the secret of such a song, a secret you will be sharing with me and who knows; Christmas for you might also begin on its first hearing!    

Weigh in (73), (74), (75), (76)

Yes, yes, yes......blog posts are like London buses......blah blah yada blah.....

Still playing catch up with everything at the moment; but another blog post means progress; I think!
There are now - count them with me....one, two, buckle my shoe - four weigh-ins to catch up on. I would love to say that my lack of updating is no cause for concern, but as I am concerned that would be a scorching (literally) case of liar liar pants on fire.

By now you should be aware of the new job; the working week of which is travelling down from Manchester to Stevenage at daft o'clock (GMT) on a Monday morning; hotelling it for three nights and then heading back up to northern civilisation (NOT an oxymoron) on Thursday night. It is not sustainable, but something I can do until hopefully both parties (me and company) are in agreement that it is a good match and I can move darn sarf on a permanent basis. Looking good so far!

So; what was a successful routine of gym Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday, with the occasional badminton match is now all over the place.....in actual fact let's be honest here; said routine is shot to pieces. On top of this my food intake is now so much more difficult to control. The hotel I am staying at has a restaurant, and although there are other places to eat they are all under the blanket of fast-food. Just to add a cuttingly acidic insult to life-threatening injury.....the hotel does a fantastic full English breakfast.

I am struggling, and need to find a way to deal with what I am eating; I need to 'make it work'. Fortunately I only have two weeks of this new regime until Christmas, providing me with time enough to devise a plan which manages my diet successfully. It is a plan I desperately need as there are only so many healthy-option Subway sandwiches I can eat of an evening before it drives me crazy; plus during my first week I had a full English every morning.......do I have to say 'not good' or can we just take it as read?

Is that all the trouble?....well.... no it's not. When I do eventually get home I am clueless of what to buy. With essentially only three full days I am either buying too much from the supermarket -  and throwing stuff away - or too little and resorting to takeaways (my first curry last weekend, slipping into old and bad habits......I know I know).

Okay.....that's all the trouble now, I promise.

So enough of the procrastination, what's the score? Well, as Tuesday nights are now away from home, in the interests of consistency I have moved the weigh ins to Thursday nights after the drive home. Here goes......

Weigh in (73) 15 stone 10 pounds
Weigh in (74) 15 stone 4 pounds
Weigh in (75) 15 stone 7 pounds
Weigh in (76) Wimped out after all those full Englishes

So on a positive note I have not done a huge amount of damage; the weight is still in the 15 stonesies. Granted if I had managed to keep the rate of weight loss from post great north, I would probably be at my target weight (whatever that is!) by now, but considering what is going on at the moment it is a case of damage limitation and so far I think I am managing to manage it (good luck or good judgement? I suspect the former......). I confess to being so worried about the most recent weigh in that I chickened out....I swear to you it will not happen again. Good or bad, I will always get on those scales. Feel pretty embarrassed at admitting my cowardice; powerful incentive not to do it again.

I know what you're thinking - I do.....really! - is there any good news? As a matter of fact, there is. I still feel strong, and even though I am writing this post at gone 11pm on a day which started at 4am, I feel good. What's more, I have taken my first step towards a new routine. I say step; tonight there were actually three and a half miles worth of steps. The guys at work - many of which are runners themselves - pointed me in the direction of a running club which makes good use of the psychopath... ....errrrr....cycle paths of Stevenage. It is freezing cold, tiring, hard, and I have to - once more - negotiate the 'go somewhere on your own and try to make a go of it in a group of strangers' phenomenon, but after my second session tonight I am proud to say I am officially a Fairlands Valley Spartan (I am itching to find a way of yelling 'THIS...IS....SPARTAAAAAAAAAA!!!!' at someone). It feels really good to get out on the road, and even better to do it with such a fantastic group of people. There are lots of experienced marathon runners amongst them, and they have kindly offered to make me a training schedule for the 'big one' next April; particularly after they found out about 'the story'. I am starting to believe this might actually happen, even with all the other happenings which happen to be happening at the moment. There is hope; big, strong, mighty hope. So please, keep the faith. Back out there for more of the same tomorrow night!! Oh, and my sister has bought me a flash new pair of running shoes; only for best though......!

I look a right Charlie in my outdoor running gear though........! Why do I sense a self-deprecating photograph coming on....?!

Remember me??

You know, rumour has it that there used to be a kind of interesting blog on here back in the day. They say that if you are very quiet, and listen SO carefully, you can still hear the ghostly tap-tap-tapping of fingers on keys. Whatever happened to him I wonder.....? Does he still think of you, the reader; after leaving us high and dry in mid-challenge? How very dare he do this to you…..

In my previous posts (about four years ago) I made reference to events which were taking me out of my comfort zone, and frustratingly I could not at the time divulge what these events were. I am pleased to say that my vow of silence can now be broken. So what has all the fuss been about? Well, if I said that the previous blog post was written in the front room of my house in Edenfield (Lancashire), and I am writing this one from a hotel room in Stevenage (Hertfordshire) you might be getting the gist.

For the last four years I have worked for a good company; it has been a period with its fair share of challenges, frustrations and yes, successes. Positives though the job possessed; more recently the frustrations and insurmountable challenges were increasing in indirect proportion to any chances of career progression, and the only job satisfaction was self-generated; all in all not the most satisfying way to spend five working days a week. The positives were that it enabled me to live back in my native north-west, and to spend more time with my eighty-something year old Mum only a half hour drive away (it also meant I could see more of Stockport County football matches……but I’m honestly not sure whether that is classed under the positive or negative column!).

Enter stage left, galloping in on its white charger to save me; Propak Architectural Glazing, offering me a job and being flatteringly keen to bring me aboard. Enthusiasm, positivity, challenge, a recognition and appreciation of who I am and what experience I possess, not scared to invest in the right areas to ‘make things happen’, career progression; couldn’t be better could it? The only problem; they are based just shy of 250 miles away from Manchester, quite a daily commute is it not?!

Most people wouldn’t think twice about an opportunity like this, but it may well have been the hardest decision I have ever had to make. How can I explain it? To most people the choice is a classic ‘no-brainer’, but no matter what advice I received from those most people, I knew what accepting an opportunity like this would mean. It would mean unsettlement, it would mean uncertainty, it would mean risk, it would mean upheaval, it would mean ‘starting again’, despite the company bending over backwards so I can stay in the north-west, it would eventually lead to a move to Hertfordshire, it would mean guilt at not being able to spend as much time with my beautiful Mum. Lots of positives and excitement too, but I am realistic about the whole package; and yes, this realism had to include the way this boat-rocking would jeopardise my exercise and healthy eating regime, and the ultimate success in training for and completing the London Marathon next year.

Do I choose the familiar and predictable path; safe in the knowledge that it will look the same in twenty years as it does right now; or do I have the confidence and gumption (gumptidence?) to choose the rocky, fog-filled path whose end is not certain but whose end could be soooooo good?

As you know where I am as I type these words, the element of mystery is gone....solid gooone. I took the job; and this is my first official week at work. It is exciting, and I have been given no reason at all to regret my decision (yet!). The people and ultimate ‘vibe’ about the place is definitely one of desire to make a success of the venture. Nevertheless the decision still does not sit well with me. There are things I have chosen to do for the benefit of others, there are also things I have chosen to do for my own benefit provided they don’t negatively affect anyone I care about; this is the first decision I have made for my own benefit which will also result in clear negativity for others, and that goes completely against my nature. Seeing less of my Mum will come as a blow to her, and me for that matter (at least I have a new job to help take my mind off it); I feel particularly guilty as let’s not sugar-coat it here, at her age the number of days left to enjoy Mum’s company are limited and now I won’t have the chance to spend as many of them with her. Practically too, my absence will create a void of care (shopping, cooking, cleaning, generally spending time with her) which will need to be filled by someone; hopefully.

And yet, despite these misgivings, it still really is a no-brainer, and I feel a better man for making the right decision. I care enough to have regret about what I am leaving behind, but thanks to my own common sense, and a feeling that anyone who cares about me will support what is best for me, I still have the sense to go through it. So bring on the new job, bring on the unsettlement, bring on Stevenage; I’m ready.

The only trouble is, what is going to happen to phase three of Fatmantofitman………? Am I still up for it……..? Stay tuned……