The pies have it

The day of London Marathon reckoning is ever closer but the ‘what happens next?’ phase that begins immediately afterwards is posing more of a dilemma.

Turning myself from a 15 stone lardy lump into someone who looks like they might be remotely capable of running a marathon has generally not been a lot of fun, involving loads of healthy unpleasant stuff like fish, fruit and vegetables, and of course, hundreds of miles of running.

But the one saving grace has been the kind things people have said: ‘I can’t believe you’ve lost so much weight’, ‘you look so different’, ‘I hardly recognise you’ (although the latter was said by someone I barely know so doesn’t really count) and this has nearly made it all worthwhile but then they all ask ‘what happens next?’. What they mean is are you going to to revert to your fat git on a sofa ways or is this the dawning of a new you.

Now while I can’t deny I feel full of vitality and life, and that hangovers are but a distant memory, the truth is that the actual healthy living bit ain’t a huge amount of fun. For God’s sake I don’t even like running. And of course, there is only so much weight one can lose. Once people are used to me being human shaped and relatively fit the only comments they will pass will be about me looking older or fatter. Not a comforting thought. And even to stay in this health hinterland I will still have to forgo beer and chips, and it will undoubtedly require more bloody running.

So there has been reward in getting into shape, but staying in shape sounds like purgatory in trainers.

On balance I think I’ll let myself happily go to seed. After 30 years of sedentary living it has taken me three months to get fit for a marathon, so I plan on another 30 years of pies, pints and chocolate, and then I’ll think about doing it again.

Woohoo I’m a slightly less Fat Man

Today, exactly a month after my first training run, I weighed in at 13 stone 13lbs – a stone and 4lbs lighter than when I began this torture.

And I am starting to feel more confident that I might actually do this thing. What I no longer know is what happens after I cross the finish line, or at least finish in the marathon. I thought it would be straight down the chippie and then the pub, but the whole jogging, eating vegetables and staying sober thing, is kind of addictive.

I might have to join Fitness Anonymous.

It’s all going runningly…

If you had told me a month ago that by February 1st I would be running several miles a day before 8.30 a.m I would have choked on my breakfast Mars Bar.

My marathon preparations began on January 2nd when I weighed in at 15st 3lbs and the only walk that didn’t involve a rest was the one to the pub. Today I weigh in at 14st 3lbs exactly. I have not only lost a stone but found an unexpected ability to challenge sloths to running races.

Back on the 15th January I wrote a post about my frustration at slowing to a walk when encountering a steep hill. This morning I not only ran happily all the way up, but continued for a further five miles.

The human body is amazingly resilient. I have thrown pies and alcohol at mine for years and its only protest has been to indignantly increase in size. Now suddenly after 46 years of weary acquiescence to excess, my body is being asked to run, swim and more agonisingly go without beer, pastry or chocolate. And to add insult to injury it is being asked to cope with a large and entirely alien intake of vegetables and fruit.

However, I am under no illusion. I have a lot more work to do if I am going to get anywhere near to completing the 26 mile marathon course in April, which suddenly seems so close. But at least I can now see the light rather than the cellulite.

My shedding pounds is all in add of raising pounds for the RNIB so please dig deep. You can support me by clicking on the text underneath the Sponsor Me tab to the right of this page.