Weight Gain Mayhem – I’ve Put On 10lbs In One Month
In the month since Dublin I’ve put on 10lbs. I’m now 206lbs. I’m not surprised. I did nothing but eat and drink in Vegas and I’d been living a reclusive lifestyle whilst writing the book.
I haven’t been enjoying the fried chicken and kebab diet I’ve picked up again. It’s fucking disgusting and I feel terrible. I don’t hate myself for eating that shit, but it just doesn’t help me. So fuck it, it stops. No more self hatred, just better decisions going forward.
I found out just how much fitness I’d lost on Friday night when I had to climb the 200 steps up from the platform at Covent Garden to street level. It was fucking tough going and I could barely breathe at the top.
December marks a new start. I’d love to get back to being as close to 200lbs as possible before the New Year. I’d start today only I’m going to meet Paul the Geordie in London this afternoon for drinks.
I need to keep this under control otherwise my next book will be called ‘How To Navigate London’s Landmarks In A Rascal Scooter’. There seems to be this worrying trend of ‘self help’ fitness writers finishing a book and then putting on 200lbs afterward.
Fuck that shit right there. I’m not immune to it. If I kept going in this direction then it’d take me maybe 6 months to get there. I’m not going back there. I’m getting ready for the New Year and I’m excited about doing some half marathons to get back into it. 2015 will be the year where I enjoy running again without putting myself through stupid fucking challenges.
I say that now but it’ll probably take a week before I book a 100k or something.
I haven’t ran since the Las Vegas Marathon two weeks ago and I’m going to break that tomorrow and run. I’m not aiming for a specific mileage total or a pace target. I need to get back into the habit of healthier living.