So, here we all are again…
They only went and let The Trifle out of his frozen cage. My advice to any of you: never follow a trail of pot noodles and back-copies of, ahem, Gentlemen’s Interest magazines into a cryogenic storage facility. It’s likely a trap.
While I was stuck there, two-thirds of the way down to Absolute Zero, so cold that the single molecule that occupies my skull cavity slowed right down to a gentle stroll, I remember thinking ‘well at least Brexit will be done and dusted when I’m out of this’.
What actually happened was a series of uninteresting setbacks. First off, my wife caught me struggling with my knee so she grounded me for 2 weeks. Then that same love-of-my-life went and infected me with some super-cold that felt like it’d been engineered in a bioweapons lab, and then work...oh, the work...
I’m a [censored] in a [censored], currently running a [censored] with a [censored], and, no matter what you do to prevent it, 18-months’ worth of work invariably culminates in a last minute wild panic. Including my commute, I was out of the house 16-17 hours a day, 6 days a week for the last 3 weeks.
I used to be able to do all that and still go out on the razzle, but it didn’t half take it out of me this time ‘round. I’m getting old.
Mind you, Mrs.Trifle and I just received two stripes on a pregnancy test (mainly Mrs.Trifle), so despite all that inertia, I still got some exercise in somewhere along the line.
But with all the horriblenous out of the way, and finally having time and energy back, it's time to snap back into this fitness drive that I pledged at start of the year.
What was it I wrote in my first post?
No more skipping breakfast, working through lunch and compensating with a plate that is intended to feed a village. No more Coca-Cola. No more smoking. Definitely no more smoking. No more red wine, no more beer (for a while), no more crap. Just clean livin’.
I’ve read through that list a few times, trying to pick out something that I’ve actually managed to stick to for the last 4 months.
Nope.
Over the last 6 weeks, I’ve completely undone every. Single. Thing. I’d. Achieved. *banging head on desk*
My natural behaviours must have Darwin spinning in his grave. It’s lucky that the human race had already beaten the world into a bloody pulp before I rucked up, otherwise I’d have never made it to biological adulthood.
I’m the human equivalent of a Shetland Pony: I'm f*****g useless from every angle.
But, the minute we stop fighting is when we've lost. Get up, dust off, strap into that lycra that's spankier than a German fetishist and go again.
Commitments have freed up, knee feels fully recovered, so it’s time to butter up my boobies and wrestle that croc back into submission.
On Tuesday, I went out for a feeler run to see at what stage I should come back at and based on that, I'm reckoning restarting W5 is a good place to slot back in. I'm out tonight and I'll see how I get on, maybe bump myself back down a week if necessary.
I've missed this, y'know? I’ve missed watching those living room curtains getting yanked shut as I tumble by houses in a haze of nasty, wavy air. I’ve missed the For Sale signs shooting up in my wake. I’ve missed dribbling with exhaustion and feeling great about every stupid little achievement, but most of all, I've honestly missed writing to you bunch of absolute charmers and telling you aaaaaallll about it.
Stay cool, the lot of ya.
Week 6, Run 1 - Done!! 
Week 6 - Run 1 - in the bag!
Week 6 run 1 - slow but done ✅ 
Nearly doomed by the curse of Week 6 Run 1 BUT not for long!!!!!
Week 6 run 2- a killer!
