Happy Birthday!

The temptations come fast and furious in my house in February.

After Valentine's (see earlier post) comes my birthday.

As we hit our mid to late-30s*, the body plays tricks on us and muscles which were supple and lithe as a 20-something, start to malfunction.

It was the most healthy birthday I've had in all my 30-something years. No booze, no chocs, no crisps and no fun. Grilled chicken and cous cous (that stuff's so good they named it twice).

The cake above is for illustrative purposes - I had a satsuma and a little pot of nuts for my treat.

 * Thanks to my eldest for bringing me back to earth with a resounding bump. I mentioned something about the mid to late-30s on Twitter. His reply?

"Yeah, the 1930s..."

Valentine's Day

There was a time (last year, in fact) when Valentine's meant a few drinks, a nice three-course meal out and a few more drinks at home.

Well thanks to my circumstances this year, that's all out of the window.

There will be no alcohol passing my lips tonight, no sumptuous dessert.

Instead, I'll be dropping a few press-ups in front of the TV and trying to perfect my 'plank'.

And where once there were chocolates for my beloved on the big day, I changed that this year.

Instead, my beloved received...a packet of protein-packed edamame beans.

Happy Valentine's Day...

Where did that go?

Momentum is picking up with my sponsorship - thanks for all the pledges.
I had a nice working lunch with Bennett Homes and Crosland Communications on Friday - and a crisp £100 dropped into my justgiving account on Monday morning.
Thanks Edward and the team. You can donate at www/justgiving.com/BfpEditor - I'm 14% on the way to my £1k target.
Lunch with Bennett Homes proved a challenge as they invited me to the Old Cannon Brewery.
There was a wide and delicious menu - including chips, fish pie and goodies galore. I plumped (no pun intended, but I'll take it anyhow) for the herring 'light main'. Very tasty...even through my gritted teeth,
I'd love to say I washed it down with a gooey dessert - I didn't.
And thanks to that and the Smiling Assassin (see earlier), plus Abbeycroft Leisure's fabulous torture chamber (sorry, gym), I've lost over a stone.
Eek!
In a way, I'd hoped exercise, smaller portions, cutting out alcohol, cutting out crisps, cutting out biscuits, cutting out cake, cutting out bread and cutting out pasta and spuds would fail. If it did, I could've said I tried but my metabolism doesn't work properly.
No such luck.
The above has resulted in a 7.5kg loss (one stone, 2.5lbs in old money) and 7cms from my waist. I can use notches on my belt I've only used in the past to hang it up with.
I did ask the Smiling Assassin if - when I reached the magic 2 stone weight loss goal in March - I could call it a day.
Job done. Thanks very much. See you again sometime, Helen.
"No way, Barry," as we made our way over to the boxing punchbag.
A chill came over me.
"We've got the whole year - I reckon we'll target a 30kg loss and have you running soon. Now give me short jabs followed by a big right hook..."
Happily, Helen.

> Those pranksters at the Bury Free Press are so encouraging.
Gawd bless their little cotton socks.
I don't think I've reached this stage quite yet (a nod to Sir Chris Hoy and the Daily Mail) but it's on the wall right, smack bang in my eyeline and gives me something to aim for.
Thanks team...now who's for that night job today?

What are you looking at, punk?

First, there was Ali. He was the greatest - and told everyone so.
He floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee.
I certainly don't float (the walls of Abbeycroft's gym were vibrating when I was forced to jump around today) and I'm not sure I sting (yet).

Then there was Marvellous Marvin Hagler.
I used to watch him decimate other boxers and wonder at his physique. I'll look like him when I do Movember (at least from the chin up...)

I so admired Sugar Ray Leonard. He moved so gracefully. Again, something for me to work at.
A little way to go on that one - most dancefloors clear very quickly when I get moving and a grooving.

And on the big screen, Rocky Balboa won/lost/won/won/won and seemed to have an answer to every boxer who dared to chin him. The Italian Stallion.

Helen introduced me to boxing today - and I loved it.
It was tough, don't get me wrong, and tiring. I'll feel the hurt tomorrow and the next day.
But now all I need is a manly nickname.
Any suggestions?
Barry the Box?
Barry the Bruise?

A little bit crazy

I think I have an addictive personality.
Coffee, chocolate, fishing, squash, Harvey's Bristol Cream, pretzels...I've loved all of those over the years and gone a bit overboard (well, not so much the Bristol Cream).
Now I think the exercise bug is getting a grip of me.
This is how the weekend went:
Friday night: Session at the gym.
Sunday afternoon: Session at the gym, watching Italy beat France on the treadmill TV (sad).
Monday morning: Another personal trainer session with my Smiling Assassin.
I feel like a big hamster on a little wheel...can I stop exercising yet? Please?

Smug

She said it would happen.
It did happen.
The smiling assassin (aka personal trainer Helen Bye...she's not so silent any more) said I would ache after Monday. I thought I knew better - I'm a bloke, after all.
So what did I do? I went back to the gym on Tuesday for another 45-min session.
At 47 years old, nothing's stopping this lean, mean, fitness machine, I thought.
As I lay, aching, on the lounge floor last night, I did for one second doubt the wisdom of my actions.
But I couldn't tell anyone (you'll keep this to yourselves, right?).
I knew somewhere, she'd be having a snigger...
"Told you so. Now, let's try another set of those reps..."
It's like a new language.

                                         Abbeycroft's 'Smiling Assassin'

Hurting...official

I've just looked on the Abbeycroft Leisure website.
It's a lovely website, full of smiling people, all looking fit and like they could do with a good dose of calories.
Even the people taking part in spin, boxercise and zumba are all smiling.
I went along for my first session today - smiling, as I thought that was de rigeur.
Everyone else smiled back - I'm guessing they knew what was coming. Hell, I even turned up 15 minutes early to warm up.
And I was correct. Trainer Helen Bye (let's just call her the silent assassin) had me pulling, pushing, rotating, lifting and bending. The pulling and pushing were fine...boy was I smiling. But the rotating and bending proved a little more challenging to someone of a certain age and, ahem, fitness level.
I had warned Helen that I tended to swear under pressure (at least I got that part right).
And now I'm back in my nice office, sitting in my nice, comfy chair. I'll probably stay here until everyone else has gone tonight and then try to move...I hate to see grown men weep so my co-workers are probably the same.
Thanks Helen. All your own work!
I even texted her to let her know how much damage she had done.
"Hee hee" came the reply. I sense the honeymoon period is over.
That's her, below - she's holding a 5kg ball, which is fairly relevant.

                                                                      The silent assassin


I've now dropped 4.1kg which Google says is about 9lbs. I'm not too sure where it's gone - probably down the back of a sofa, but that's £18 in the charity kitty from me, the same from my partner and the nice Mike King at Rougham has also pledged cash this week so it's all worth it.
I'm meeting another potential fund-raiser tomorrow and both a charity golf day and a tombola are new on the horizon.
Perhaps I'll even get back to the leisure centre. I quite enjoyed it really.
I might feel differently come the morning.