The Ricky Hatton diet plan

So I was all geared up to get home, don my running tights and hit the mean streets of west London then I receive the text! It's my beloved, Sharon "George staying at mums, fancy a drink". I decide to say no and continue with my training plans and begin to text back. Then I am attacked by a very strange form of dyslexia, as I go to type "No thanks, need to train" my fingers hit a strange sequence of keys that spell out "Great, see you in the Vic just after 6", before I know it I have hit send and my fate is sealed. A couple of hours later I am sitting on a bar stool in my local supping a pint of Guinness, Sharon next to me drinking a small carafe of white wine. After a second drink we head for home. In my head I justify these actions by deciding my muscles need time to re-energise and obviously Guinness Is Good For You.
For those of you now worried about my commitment - I have paid for my indiscrection with a 5 mile early morning run this morning in the icy pouring rain. As I reached mile number 3 I passed the Princess Victoria and curse the hold it has over me!

A man, a bike and a shed....

Last night's training was an hours hard cycling on the exercise bike. So on returning from work it was on with the padded pants, workout vest and fleece and down the garden path to the shed. Sky Sports News on the TV, heater on and off I go. After about 2 minutes two feline faces appear at the shed door mewing to be let in. I think "what would Lance do?" then carry on cycling ignoring their sad little faces. After 10 minutes they realise there's no hope and trot off back to the house. After about 15 minutes the shed and myself are very warm so it's off with the fleece and I manage to turn the heater off with a flailing leg. 25 minutes into the ride and I'm up to date with all the sports news so off with the TV and on with the music, oh the joy of the remote control. As I push on I sense that I am being watched, looking through the shed windows I spot my neighbours children staring at me from their bedroom window probably wondering what the hell I am doing in a freezing cold shed making the windows steam up. For the last 5 minutes I up the intensity and almost tip the bike over with my exertions, dangerous business this. As the 60 minutes ends I do a 5 min warm down then it's fleece on, lights off, alarm on, shed locked and back down the garden path

Cold, damn cold

Apologies that there have been no entries for a while I have a plethora of plausible excuses - children with chicken pox, no sleep, busy at work and many many others I will save for a later date! Training is still progressing, the shorter runs are getting easier, the exercise bike sessions are getting longer and my motivation is on the up.
Last night's short run around the infamous Shepherds Bush circuit was for the majority without incident. Wood Lane is now fairly busy until 10pm due to the shopping hell which is Westville so I found myself in the road a fair bit dodging buses and bikes. I continued Rocky-style in the road coming along Uxbridge Road avoiding hoodies, mad drunks, an emptying mosque and a queue to get into Bush Hall to watch some wishy-washy, vegie-eating folk singer. The hardest part of the run was not the crowds, not the cold, not the smells but having to run passed my local, the Princess Victoria. I could actually hear the Guinness calling me and sobbing as I ran passed and ignored it's mermaid like song. After just over 4 miles I arrived home to the smell of steamed sprouts, I knew I should have done another mile. I warmed down, tripped over Boogie the cat, had a shower and settled down with a bowl of pasta and salmon.