Of Exercise And Eating

The training is going well at this early stage and giving me a feeling of outrageous well-being. On Monday I ran for an hour, an important personal milestone. I confined myself to my local circuit of the small estate over the road, its great attraction being that I am never too far from home if my body gives out and it does not involve any steep hills. The problem with our location is that we sit at the top of a hill - great for views and avoiding floods but carrying with it the inevitability of a concluding haul up the slope if I venture very far.

But sometimes I do want to head down the hill for a change of scenery and Tuesday was such an occasion. Still a little tender from the hour on my feet on  Monday I was aiming for forty minutes and managed only a leaden-footed thirty. I risked the hill again today and set myself a target of thirty minutes but was pleased to do forty. Yesterday was definitely one of those days when the gods are against you. The rain it did rain and the wind it did blow, hell it even bloody hailed. Thus did I set out in my long tights and my waterproof jacket though I have to confess I did not abandon the Oakleys. Result? No rain, no hail, just a strong wind which always seemed to be against me and which inflated my jacket like a spinnaker. At various points I felt like I was going bloody backwards and it took me an indecent time to pass an old lady with a shopping trolley. Memories came flooding back of losing in a sprint finish to a bloke in a rhino costume in the 96 London Marathon. Great moments in sport.

Pig's training regime

Diet. I'm attempting the 5/2 diet - this is the one where you fast for two days and eat normally for five. I've been fasting today and although I feel vaguely virtuous I feel rather more hungry and I am being tormented by cravings for a glass of red (also verboten).

Tomorrow I will be answering a challenge I have set myself. I am cooking lunch for my venerable parents. We are to have Nigella's chicken and chorizo. I raided Waitrose this afternoon and I'm well psyched.

This is BFP signing out. Wish me luck.

The Big Fat Pig Exercise Regime

This being the exercise plan that accompanies the patented BFP cereal/bananas/red wine diet. That being the diet you only do during the week by the way.

Today: two bananas, one bowl of cereal, no wine, forty sit-ups, twelve minutes of rowing, a session on the dumbbells. It's half nine in the evening, not even dark yet and I'm ready for my bed.

Massive plaudits to everyone involved in bringing the Tour de France's Grand Depart to these shores. Absolutely mega and I wish I'd been there.  

T + 23. Free Trade. Related Stuff.

One week in and five pounds down. Which is pretty good because I haven't been notably disciplined in my diet. I have however been out running three times including a laboured effort here in Anglesey when I arrived at lunchtime today. I'm simply here to check for storm damage or at least that is my excuse - truth is I love it here and I need a change of scenery after a fraught start to the year at work. No more of that.

I was listening to Nigel Farage on Today yesterday morning and he was as ever interesting and perhaps dangerously plausible . I say dangerously not so much because of Farage himself but on account of the assorted loons his party attracts as members. He was commenting on the perceived problem of Romanian/Bulgarian immigration consequent upon the EU's ordinance of free movement of labour and this leads one to ponder the relationship between free movement and free trade. Why do open trade borders not go hand in philosophical hand with open borders to all and sundry? The answer is our old friend the social contract because as soon as you have a welfare state of any sort you run up against the cult of entitlement being tied to contribution. This realisation engenders sympathy for anarcho-capitalism. And I bet you didn't see that one coming. I am not rebranding The Overgraduate as an anarchist  site but I am saying it makes you wonder. No?

T + 26

Two pounds shed already and another twenty-two minutes of that running. At this rate I can expect to hit target in a fortnight. Fat bloody chance but nevertheless a nice little start. I've come off the midweek booze but can still go wild at weekends. Christmas is almost officially over and we are down to the last member of the case of Undurraga we use instead of tap water - very acceptable Chilean fizz.

No refereeing today courtesy of the wild, wet weather and consequent waterlogged pitch but the shuffling run made up for that. There's that last bottle to be seen off- its penultimate cousin went this afternoon. It's a serious business this diet malarkey. Trees down tomorrow hopefully or at the very least lights dimmed. Time to move forward and other meaningless bollocks.

It's a sport honest

Time for the official Overgraduate review of the PDC World Darts at Alexandra Palace. It is certifiably OBB (officially bloody brilliant). Bloke Central. The tone can be judged from the gratuitous picture of one of the Ladbroke's 'walk-on girls' whose job it is to lead the chubby warriors onto the stage. I shouldn't approve but for much the same reason that I like Titus Andronicus I like the darts. It's raw and electrifying. Thanks to BH who got the tickets and organised the trip and to TW and CC who made it such unqualified fun. Earlier in the day we had watched Saracens demolish Leicester at Allianz Park. Sarries work very hard at generating an atmosphere. I suspect that the Tigers fans look a little askance at all this but I rather admire Saracens' effortful professionalism and they can certainly play - more evidence of which in their easy defeat of Gloucester this afternoon. I watched the latter on BT Sport. The jury is out on their coverage. They try a little too hard for this old codger's liking. And yes I do know that sits inconsistently with my attitude to the Sarries commercial experiment. Rugby, unlike television, does just about have a soul.