I'm referring to television, but I suppose the statement holds up for hygiene habits as well. I find it helps keep the Covid deniers healthily distanced. That and a good ol' smokers' cough.
But what I mean by this is that there are these characters who just will not stay gone. They either get themselves in or under some black cab, spew an ill-elocuted soliloquy and head off into the setting sun, only to ruck back up a year later with clumsy motives and a hashed back story.
I don't like this as it bears no reflection on reality whatsoever...
...oh, wait.
So, I'm back here for third time luckyism. I first arrived here in those grainy, black and white days of 2018, prattling on about:
"By the age of 35, after years of debauchery and idleness I’ve finally got to a stage where if I appeared in a line-up of slugs with spindly limbs loosley tacked on them, I probably wouldn’t be immediately ousted. I feel like I’ve been sewn together from the contents of a hospital dustbin and a recent blood test has turned up high cholesterol, high “bad cholesterol” and an enzyme in my liver working 3 times harder than it should."
I fell short at W6R3, and then came crawling back in pre-Covid 2020 (a simpler time) saying:
"A year ago, pretty much to the day, I came on here whining about how I'd managed to morph my physique into a giant, pink, vaguely human shaped blancmange. I sat here and looked you all in the eye (screen) and told you I was going to change, everything was going to be different.
"Funny, huh?
"Here we are, another year gone. Another whizz around that fiery orb and the earth is back in the same spot and I'm still mushrooming out of the top of my trousers, needing a coffee break between shoe laces. I still feel like I've been badly sewn together from the contents of a hospital dustbin. I'm still annoying my wife...mind you, I never resolved to stop doing that, not even two-and-a-half bottles of red into New Years' Eve. There is a limit y'know. I'm still whimsically dreaming of being fit and active. Still dreaming of being human shaped. Still pledging to quit smoking."
And fell by the wayside at W6R1. Now I'm back, larger than ever (literally) ready to say that THIS TIME I will:
1) Get better at writing lists
2)
3)
Come on, that was pretty funny, right?
No...THIS TIME I will:
- Stop smoking
- Not start smoking again
- See this whole damned mucky affair right through to the bitter end
- Try to run slower
Every time I come back here I need to reintroduce myself, as whilst I've been off gap-yearing, all of my previous C25Kers have been tossing their mortar boards up in the air and are probably off marathoning up vertical inclines without even a hint of webbed spittle dangling from their chins. They've probably all got six-packs and arses that could uncork test tubes, and I'm back here with a paunch that could comfortably see a large mammal through the harshest of winters' hibernation, and a back crevice that could conceal a large bottle of champagne.
I think my fat layers have probably stratified. You could cut me open and date me back through the epochs.
What you need to know about me is that I'm frustratingly stupid, and take pleasure in writing excessively long, drivel-filled posts. I am the embodiment of a teenager behind the wheel of an old, clapped-out Courteener: black smoke pluming from every orifice, but still revving it up into the reds and wheel-spinning off the lights. Oh, and cruising past the ladies with unwavering confidence that they go nuts for a stumbling, wheezing, oblate spheroid, especially when it's got its own moon.
That's my current physique by the way. I was previously moaning about having a paunch on the front. Thinking back, I laugh at how naïve I was; I didn't know how good I had it. I've somehow acquired one on the back as well. Still the same jeans size though, there's just more erupting out the top. Looking at myself in the mirror, I have to start feeling around to check if I've got a belt on.
Anyway, so there it is. W1R1_3 on Monday. I have to do one of these posts to lock it in, it kind of makes it a commitment to the universe. These HealthUnlocked bastards can get pretty nasty when you start reneging on promises.
Happy running, new faces. Always remember, you can do it! Unless you're me, then in which case, you probably can't.