Of all the stupid things…

Remember at the start of the year, when I said I might sign up for the Rochdale Half Marathon? Well, I only went and gone and done it innit. Call it an attempt to get healthy, call it a mid-life crisis, call it whatever you want. We’re here now, me in a pair of loose fitting tracksuit bottoms and an extra-large t-shirt, you with your worries and doubts, both of us slowly shaking our head and asking, why, albeit for different reasons?

In a desperate attempt at self-motivation, I will be updating you each week about how much better at ‘the running’ I am getting and how much belly I have removed. In the interests of good taste, I won’t be exposing you to anything like weekly progress photos of the hopelessly Jupiter-esque expanse that is my fat tum. We’ll stick to description and statistics. Though I may treat you to a before-and-after shot some time in September for the full urgh to phwoar factor. So there you are. Something to look forward too.

I did my first (walk a bit/run a bit) run last night and it went ok. No strokes. No cardiac events. No eight-year-olds shouting, “Run Forest! Run” or whatever the current version of that solid burn is. I didn’t even get stitch. I’m basically Mo Farah.

I have also weighed myself. And measured myself. Again, this is to motivate me. If I share exactly how out of shape I am, I’ll have to do something about it won’t I? Probably. I wasn’t quite sure where to measure my waist (I wear 34 jeans, but I’m not my Grandad, so I don’t actually wear them round my waist) so I looked it up online. I found a lovely site with the following helpful advice:

“Find your waist. Use your fingers to find the top of your hips and the base of your rib cage. Your waist is the soft, fleshy section between these two bony parts. It will also be the narrowest part of your torso.”

I found my waist. My waist really isn’t the narrowest part of my torso. Quite the opposite in fact. Quite the opposite.

But then, that’s why I’m doing this, to get a bit more healthy. I know losing weight isn’t the answer to everything and you should be happy whatever shape you are, but any weight I gain tends to gather at my belly and make me look five months pregnant in anything but the loosest of shirts. Five months pregnant is a great look for somebody who is actually pregnant, but it is significantly less cool for a middle-aged man. I used to wear nice clothes. I want to wear nice clothes again.

Of course, this isn’t just about me. I will at some point raise the topic of you giving to charity. But let’s wait a few weeks, shall we? When/if I shift a stone, I’ll bring up the subject of money again. Until then, sit back and enjoy the weekly angst.

Anyway, here are my facts at the present time.

Week One: Weight 13st 5lb 8oz Waist 40 + 7/8 inches

3 thoughts on “Of all the stupid things…

  1. Gosh, showing your age there son, I’ve been metric for years or do I need to go back to imperial now we are leaving the EU?

  2. Good luck! Get a dictaphone and you can compose your writings while you run, perhaps…

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