DVT DAYS 160 & 161
Saturday has been and gone, exceptional for only one reason and that was the pleasure of having my youngest daughter to come and stay for the weekend. Always a joy to have her around, a refreshingly direct voice in the family conversation. So there was much chat and catching up with work and family life. In the afternoon I went to the shed to clamber onto he bike and grind out an hour of exercise, which included the usual ten minutes in my altitude training mask. The mask restricts air intake, makes the lungs work harder to draw in breath and mimics the effects of training at altitude. It in theory it produces a higher blood count. I am hoping that ten minutes in a cycle session will boost my blood counts and increase my fitness and performance in the battle against cancer. The evening was a family one of watching TV together, Striker mostly. Sunday is my weigh in day and after another week of careful diet I am hoping for a weight loss, any weight loss, of any magnitude will do as long as it is downwards.
Sunday. Woke late having gone to bed at 1am last night having cleared the kitchen for a new day. An overcast and wet day. I went to the bathroom to go through my ritual Sunday weigh in. Body prepared, scales on same floor tile and I am ready, feeling confident after my week of denial:
97.2 Kilos, a bloody rise of 0.2 kilos. I am stunned, saddened and angry, all that effort for fucking nothing! Clearly not exercising enough, too sluggish a life style and still too many calories.
Breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast, more toast with jam and lashings of black coffee. Might as well indulge, I’ve got another week of restraint in front of me with some extra exercise and the excitement of going out into the community for two visits to the GP surgery and two trips to the garage to get two of the cars MOT’d. I’m getting stir crazy, a combination of being at home and lack of shed time to write and pursue projects. Its a useful wake up call to get out and about and to shake off my self imposed institutionalisation. The fly in the ointment is the rising tide of COVID positive cases in Leicester and the surrounding areas, way above he national average and far in excess of the rates that require isolation after return from the countries in the quarantine group. I doubt that the area will come out of restrictions anytime soon.
I clean the fish tank out while watching Ronnie O’Sullivan thrash an opponent in the third session of the world snooker championship. I remember Ronnie turning up at Gartree prison with the trophy one year to show his dad who was a guest at her majesty’s establishment at the time. Brightened up a boring normal visits day. By the time I had finished cleaning out the guppy colony Ronnie had ended the afternoon session only needing one more frame to win the tittle again. The poor bastard he was thrashing faced an evening of waiting to lose, which is a crap position to be in for anyone, but then again he had played rubbish so its his own fault. I suspect the second prize of £200,000 will soften the blow.
Having eaten a late Sunday dinner and waved farewell to my youngest daughter, I retreated to the sofa to blog and await the final football match of the season to involve and English team in a European competition. In the meantime I read and ponder how I am going to shift my weight. Next week is relatively busy so a little more like normal life returns and with it a higher calorie burn. I am hoping next Sundays weigh in produces a more favourable result. Tomorrow is a day to start to try again.
