Day 25 – I Walked La Rambla With Real Intent
|Calories in||Calories out||Deficit|
I took the AVE train from Madrid Atocha to Barcelona Sants at 6:30am yesterday morning. It was the first time I’ve taken that journey since I lost my mind at Barcelona Airport back in 2011 and as much as I’d like to say it was a healing experience, it wasn’t. I was parked beside a guy who kept falling asleep, blocking my way to the toilet and the food car.
I didn’t get any sleep on the night before the journey and I was obviously not in the best of moods. Thankfully when I got to my hotel in Barcelona at 10am I was allowed to check-in and occupy my room. I slept until 3pm, went out to La Rambla for dinner and then came back and relaxed a little bit more.
My plan for the evening was to go on a nice relaxing jog around Barcelona to see some sights and take in some culture.
It did not work out that way.
I spent the entire run trapped inside Barcelona Port. I thought it’d be exotic. It was worse than Sailortown back in Belfast. I was constantly gagging at all the terrible port smells. Dead seagulls, freight lorries, driver sweat, far right politics and heavy industry. Anything to kill my hard-on.
I did 12km/7.5 miles altogether. Not too bad when you factor in all the walking I did yesterday too. Took me up to a calorie expenditure of just short of 4,000 calories.
I finished the night with more pizza. I knew it wasn’t a good idea at the time. I stormed up La Rambla at midnight and that place is a fucking gauntlet if you’re a man on his own. I was not there for a prostitute. I was there for something a lot less wholesome. 4 queso pizza.
I can still taste it in my mouth as I write this. I need to somehow get hooked on oranges, strawberries and limes. They might make me shit like a champion, but it’s honestly worth it. The pizza tasted terrible at the time and now it’s even worse.
By the way, I managed to find the Garmin statistics for the day I got lost in an orange grove back at the start of this trip. I walked/ran 52 miles and took over 70,000 steps according to the stats. In order to have burned an entire pound of fat on that day I’d have to have consumed 3,751 calories. I didn’t even manage 3,000.
These distances and crazy statistics become possible with practice. The more you run, the more options you have in life. It really does get easier, so if you’re struggling at the moment to make progress with running, keep with it.
I’ve noticed an improvement with my heart rate measurements recently too. At first my heart seemed to be beating so slowly that I couldn’t feel it. I’ve measured it over the past week or so when I first wake up and it’s rarely above 50bpm. It’s even been as low as 41bpm. At first I thought this meant my heart was just being a lazy bastard, but apparently it’s a good thing if the base rate is lower than average.
Who knows. I could be believing the wrong people. This week I believed that popcorn killed small birds all because a Geordie man told me so. I need to verify my sources.
Here’s my diary for yesterday. I only ate 50g of the Tropifrutti as I found out midway through the bag that they’d expired last year. Still surprisingly tasty.