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I was back to being obese this morning. But boy, what a 24 hours of living the sexy life of an overweight man. Good to get one more day before I die.
Phoebe's football was rained off, so it meant I could do Park Run for the first time since August. Admittedly I'd have to do it in the rain, but it's better than nothing. I hope that one day my kids will understand what I gave up for them. It's mainly Park Run, but as that's my only hobby and the people I run with and never talk to are my only friends, it's a big sacrifice. You're welcome Phoebe.
I am 10kg lighter than the last time I did this so was hoping I might take a good chunk of time off my last effort, maybe something around 27 minutes. I didn't expect to beat my PB (of just under 25mins) as I haven't really run for a while, but I felt up for this.
I definitely had more energy and stamina, but was a bit disappointed that my pace was about 6 minutes per kilometre and sure enough my time was 30 minutes and 7 seconds, so I didn't even beat the 30 minute barrier that all serious runners are aiming for. But the last two times I ran I did times that were 2 and 3 minutes slower than this, so the loss of tummy baggage had definitely helped. I'd love to be able to do this every week, but sadly I am the greatest dad in the world (on Saturday mornings) and so it's only going to be every now and again. A few longer runs from home should help for next time though.
Ernie went to a birthday party at lunchtime so I looked after Phoebe, who was making stop frame animation videos with lego figures and learning fast about how to make them look better. If I had had an ipad and the app when I was a kid I think I would have spent my whole time doing stuff like this (but instead I played snooker and subbuteo against myself) and be a regular Alasdair Beckett-King by now, but it's good that my kids can have the things that I never could (do to technology being shit). They will never know the joy of playing Pong though, so I guess I am a winner.
Catie and me drove to London tonight for her brother's 40th birthday. I was 40 when I met him and I bet he thought I was really old, but now time, that winged whore, has made him 40 too, so the joke's on him. Apart from me now being 56. Damn, he wins again.
It had been a tough journey there, with a seemingly endless traffic jam on the Watford Way which made us think we might not even make it to the dinner, but we made it in time for food and I enjoyed eating bread and butter (and some other more Zoe friendly things) and the lively chat, even as the others got drunker and more boring and I stayed sober and the same amount of boring. We had to let the babysitter know we'd be an hour later than planned (though she was cool with it) and I finally drove home a bit tired (at one point I mistook a green traffic light for the bus bit for a green light for everyone and narrowly avoided a bus) but in spite of the transport difficulties/exhaustion it had been great to have a night out.
