Saturday, a meal to think about and rugby to attend, so we breakfast and then go to the garden centre to buy the things we need to complete tonight’s meal. Happy with our bag of goodies we return home and I get the ingredients ready to pop into the Croc Pot. Everything gets put into the pot and I set it going to slow cook for the next 8 hours. Its soon time to get ready to go to the rugby and we drive into town to park the car and then walk down to the ground. This walk means that I get 10,000 steps in during the day and salves my conscience about not training today. Tigers win! This is the sixth game on the trot and they are at the top of the table, I’m glad we remained season ticket holders over COVID. I enjoy these days at the match, there is nothing like seeing and experiencing the spectacle of the match and the crowds response to it. I have to say that when your team is winning it is a good feeling. It seems that the Tigers have re-found their form and the season is looking promising. The walk back to the car seems brief and we are soon home preparing the rest of the evening meal. I am glad I laid the table in the morning in anticipation.
Our friends arrive dead on time with goodies including a beautiful white orchid, which now has pride of place on our dining table. We eat, drink and talk our way through the evening, its a real pleasure to entertain friends and to share food. I think it is one of my favourite pleasure being able to cook for and feed friends. These evenings always go by so fast and it seems no time at all before we are waving our friends farewell. No one can face clearing away the debris so everyone just goes to bed. Its unusual for us to do that but on this occasion it seemed the only thing to do.
Sunday and I wake up at almost 11 o’clock, I must have been really tired, perhaps the effort of being at the rugby. I go the bathroom to weigh myself as I missed my weigh in last Sunday, so this is a fortnightly weigh in. I am shocked: 96.7 kilos. I’ve gained 1.4 kilos in 2 weeks and I’ve been training reasonably well. Things have to change, there can be no more carbs and sweet stuff. From now on its protein and fruit for me and of course I need to challenge myself in training. By the time I get downstairs my partner has cleared away the debris from last night. A real hero, all I had to do was put some of the clean crockery and glasses away. I have a muesli breakfast and coffee to wash down my drugs and then I sit and finish reading Mark Webber’s Dead Man Walking. The man has done huge amounts and been recognised for his extraordinary challenges, it seems from the comments at the end of the book that all those who have met him and work or run alongside him are immediately impressed by his attitude and achievements. His family are extremely proud of and supportive of him. What struck me was how many of the friends he has made during his fund raising runs for Prostate Cancer UK have died. So alongside the incredible achievements has gone hand in hand deep loss, which can only make him reflect on his own situation as indeed his book has made me reflect.
At 1 o’clock I had a zoom call with my son in Sweden. We talked for a couple of hours about how life is in Sweden and of course how we were going to organise Christmas. Brexit means anything we send gets taxed. He is starting a new job at the start of November in the centre of Stockholm so there is excitement coupled with some readjustments to family routines. We say farewell and I get ready to go to the gym. My partner drives us and I get myself on board a cross trainer. I plug in the earphones and ramp up Rammstein, my favourite training motivation music. I go at it, I’m aware that I have residue from finishing the book and I find it drives me to push hard. I get to the end with a personal best, 733 calories burnt and 8.68 kilometres done. That’s more like it. As Rammstein drive I also go inside my head and see what is there and in my case today was a growing sense of anger that after 100 years the best that medicine can do is still chemical castration. The more I think about that the angrier I get and the idea for a book emerges, tittle first and then content, or at least chapter themes and headings. The title will be “Get your finger out of my arse and do something useful.” I might take it to the writing course or just begin to jot notes in a note book. I meet my partner in the lounge and have a coffee before we head home for an evening meal. I eat the last of last nights main course and follow up with a coffee with the last chocolate biscuit in the box. There will be no more biscuits and chocolates now until Christmas and I am down to 92 kilos or less. The back ground is Strictly results to my evening as I write the blog and wait for the Tesco website to come back up. If it doesn’t before midnight we are going to have an interesting delivery tomorrow.
