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Run, Fat Boy, Run

Back in January, I published a blog I’d initially written back in summer 2017. It was basically about how I need to get fit. Four months on, and I’d made no effort.

I’ve been saying to myself for months that I need to go for a run, get into the swing of it and then it will become easier. However, I’ve always found an excuse not too.

Last night, after work, I was sitting on my sofa watching TV, unmotivated to do anything. Same old story. It was a free night without my kid, which usually means I’m in the pub drinking beer or loafing like a lard arse.

I don’t know what came over me, but sitting there, contemplating my fat arse belly, feeling sluggish and useless, I looked out the window at the pissing rain and jumped up. I decided I can’t sit like this anymore. I quickly changed into my running gear (once I’d found it) and dashed out the door to run.

It was painful and pathetic. It was wet. I managed 2.81km. This was my first run since 14th May 2018 – nearly a year! Despite the pain in parts of my body I didn’t know exist, or can’t see because of my belly, it did feel good to do it. 20 Malboros a day, copious amounts of German beer and being a lazy fuck don’t make it easy, but maybe the secret is just to go.

My weight is at 75.2kg. I aim to get that down to 70kg. Perhaps this is the start of me doing something. And who knows, maybe I’ll feel better within myself once I get into the stride of it. Perhaps publicly shaming myself will help, we’ll see.

ON the plus side, I have been doing pushups with an app. You know the type, start off small and work your way up. Last night I managed 35. A new record! Onwards and upwards.





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