And into week five…
I’ve had enough of just listing out my poor eating habits, and if you’ve read this far, you’ll probably be bored of reading it too.
So I’m turning over a new leaf. I have enough evidence of what life is like when I don’t take care. Enough evidence to refer back to when things inevitably stop going wrong.
I started the day with my measurements, which you can see below:
To measure my cardio fitness I walk a half hour circular route around the neighbourhood. At lunch I had a house viewing on the other side of town which was another half hour walk. And finally in the afternoon I walked to the station at a brisk pace – another thirty minutes of light exercise before taking the train for five hours down to the big smoke. On the train I had a sausage roll that my wife gave me.
When I arrived in London however, I was hungry and stopped at a Waitrose to get filled pasta, pesto sauce, some veg crisps and a couple of bottles of ale. The plan was to eat half the crisps and drink one bottle of ale, but I got sucked into the comedy programmes on the telly and ate all the veg crisps and downed the second bottle of beer.
Boy, did I pay for that. Eating at 10pm is not conducive to a good night’s sleep. I couldn’t lie on my stomach. I had indigestion. I was thirsty all night and yet I kept needing the loo. I slept for about two hours in the end – I had to be up and in work before 9am for a meeting and it’s a good hour and a half now that the shuttle bus doesn’t run at the far end of my journey.
I was determined this wasn’t going to happen again.