Right, so you know by now that I am trying to lose weight, get fit and give up smoking. You also know I have a good friend who is (tor)mentoring me along the way. I have an exercise plan that I do every morning before I go to work and I have given up most of the food I like. For example, bacon, white bread, chocolate, sweets, cake and well, insert something that Slimming World frowns upon here.
As you know, Christmas and its sundry temptations looms large upon us of late and with that comes the obligatory office meals out and "Have more! It's Christmas!" state of mind that comes with this season of feasting. Suffice to say, this has affected my focus on the job at hand lately. In the past week I have attended two of the afore mentioned office Christmas meals and consumed copious amounts of pasta, deep fried calamari and tiramisu. Yes, we went for Italian meals both times. It's non-traditional I agree, but we like to mix it up.
Imagine if you will, the belly of a man so full of rich Italian food that it actually makes him sweat slightly. This is a condition called Diaphoresis and your body usually does it when you are in a state of shock, have strong emotions like anger or fear or are in a state of trauma. When you think about it a bit, every time you go out for a meal at a restaurant or just ram as much food down your throat as you can muster, you are putting your body into a kind of shock. What you are doing is forcing your heart rate up to help your body break down the large amount of food that you have just eaten. Generally, you come home from a meal late at night and generally go to bed soon afterwards. This doesn't help either. Generally, you have a fitful nights sleep as your body is working overtime still digesting food. Then you wake up with what I like to call the Food Hangover.
Imagine again the excitement with which I anticipated my morning exercises after said copious amounts of food. It won't matter if I miss one or two days I thought. I'll just have a brisk walk to the car. Then another from the car to the office. Then I'll be brisk around the office. Walk about a bit. Strange thing is, I feel guilty as sin. Bad Wayne. Very bad Wayne. I made myself justify laziness. To myself. Bad, bad, bad. You can't kid a kidder.
I am resolved though. This week has been a let down, but I will overcome. Mark, my eternally youthful trainer, is taking me out running several times next week, just to see if I can actually run and not stop for a whole mile. I don't think I will be emulating Mo Farah, but I will do my utmost and report back with the results.
It's Christmas Time. There's no need to be afraid.