I honestly think Z's doing a grand job. She's sticking to the task at hand and trying to make things, you know, more fun. Mixing up her foods and all that.
Me, I've fallen a bit.
Work has once more gotten in the way of the gym, as I've been away a lot this past six weeks or so. It really gets in the way – but it wouldn't if I was running again, as I could pack a couple of tops, shorts and shoes and probably really enjoy it. I'm positively gagging to get out there running, and having had a stupidly early start to the day today (woke at 4:30am), I've been watching the early runners go past and remembering how much I love this part of the day. When I run, I don't drink, which is good in two ways. Because I'm running, and not drinking.
The plan is, to go to the gym alternate days and run on alternate days; gym Mon Weds Fri, run Tues Thurs Sat, until I get the miles up, then I'll rest Saturday and run a longer run on Sunday.
It's a good plan, just waiting for some running shoes to arrive – apparently there are three pairs coming, plus another pair potentially in a few weeks. Almost seems overkill now, but I was at a sports exhibition a couple of weeks ago, and that's the result.
Mmmm, free running shoes.
Beer consumption – in fact, alcohol consumption in general – is reaching critical mass. I don't mean I'm drinking a lot (in retrospect, critical mass is a shit choice of words), I just mean I'm not really enjoying it, and there are other things I would rather be doing. But I'm treating it just like I treated smoking – keep doing it until I really can't stand it, then I won't miss it. Sounds odd, but psychologically, it works for me. I quit smoking four years ago on Saturday, and I don't miss it one bit. I doubt I'll quit drinking for good, but it will be nice to not do it for a while…
I'm off to Germany tomorrow, for six days of work. Well, it will actually be three days of work, I think, maybe 3.5 days, but the flights were awkward, so I get a couple of days in a beautiful spot – camping – before I actually have to do anything.
Germany, of course, means beer. So I shall have some, I shall play it by ear, and see how I feel when I get back. I think it's come at the perfect time – I suspect that, when I get back, I will not want another drop of alcohol.
Oh, the other thing is that I had lots of beer at the weekend. It was my birthday Saturday, and I turned 34. WonderWife bought me some beer as my gift – what a woman – and I bought a crate of San Miguel that was going out of date and was suitably discounted. 20 bottles for £6.74, bargain.
They're all gone now, I made sure they were finished before I had to leave, which will be early in the morning. It's all part of my over-consumption plan.
I'm burbling. Best go and pack.