Day 236: Mothers

My mother shits me sometimes. Of course, I love her, as sons should, but she can be a very annoying, selfish cow when she wants to be, like all mothers.

It's really been a miracle how much time I've been able to spend with her exercising these past 12 months. I think it has surprised us both.

She can be an extremely judgmental woman, and she is as subtle as a ton of bricks.

Like the time I got published in an international book. It was published in all the major English speaking countries, and is due to be translated into other major languages as well. It is a well known series, you would know it, and I did 33 entries and was the only person from Australia to do so.

You'd think you'd be able to be a little proud about that, wouldn't you? And so I announced one day that I was pleased to actually see the fucking book in a bookstore, and showed my brother a picture from my phone. My brother thought it was great. My mother said coldly, "That's not your book".

In her eyes I was a fraud because I hadn't written the whole thing. Where was my real book?

Isn't that shithouse?

I remember being 18 and bringing home my girlfriend. She was slim, fun, sexy, smart and leggy and I was madly in love with her. She left, and again my mother (who was only 42 it turns out) said to me, "Oh she's not very pretty is she".

Fucking bitch!

Even as recently as about 5 years ago, I took a girl home for a family dinner and mum commented afterwoods, "She's not very bright, is she. That will show up in the children".

How do you please a cow like this. Not that you should want to.

She has commented on others. Too fat. Too old. Too ugly. Too stupid. You name it. The bitch has it in for them.

As I said, it's a bit of a miracle that I've been able to spend so much time with her this last year.

Family can often only be taken in small doses.

Anyway, on the health front, I just did the 2 hour walk. With my mother. I was saying how well we were doing keeping the house clean, and we were making a real effort. Rather than just saying yes it looks good, and moving on, the bitch had to say yes she got upset when it was messy etc etc ie normally it looks like shit.

Now I'm not particually sensitive but this woman lived in a dire fucking shithole of a house for about 15 years before she reno'd the kitchen. So I reminded her of this. She denied it, which really shit me, and so I pointed out that this was the reason people didn't like to visit her for so long ie her house was a shithole.

She then went into a sulk and that was that.

I don't think I'll be going for a swim with her this afternoon.

Swim

Well, great news, I went for a fucking swim for the first time in about 7 years.

One step towards the triathlon!

Went off to the local uni, ignored the fact everyone else was 22 and gorgeous, jumped in a lane, and saw if I could still swim.

Seems like I can. Slowly but surely, I swam 1k. 20 laps that is, of a 50 metre pool.

Exhilarating. Very fucking proud of myself. On a bit of a high I made enquiries at the front desk (manned by a skeptical 19 year old) about an oldies squad. He said the slowest lane was about 1.05 or 1.10 per 50, so I'll have to time myself in a few sets to see how I go.

I even saw a band aid in the water, floating around with a few hairs on it for the amusement of all.

Some things never change.

Day 235: Beautiful day

Well it's a stunning day out there now, after weeks of rain. As it should be, on my holidays....

Didn't go for my walk this morning. I was up last night taking advantage of my holiday status watching the old series "Rome", and didn't want my terminator mother turning up at 6.00am.

I now have a pair of togs though, and if today goes to plan I will go for a swim this afternoon for the first time in many years.

I woke up feeling lighter today, I think partially because I am three days into the exercise but mainly because we had our substantial meal yesterday at lunch time, and had a very light dinner.

I think all those European countries that do the same are really on to something. No, not you England.

The tough bit is working out what to do at work......

We have a new kitten, and for the last couple of weeks I have been a prisoner in my own home for fear of it getting out into the real world. Today is so stunning I refuse to have the doors closed, and the kitten is in the bathroom. My reward is a non-stop, mind bending series of meows that are driving me absolutely fucking insane. How can something squawk non-fucking stop for hours. Don't they get fucking tired?

I'd put the stupid thing on a lead but it would probably hang itself.

Day 234: Third time the charm

Well, did the 2 hour walk again today, for the third day in the row. That's the sort of thing I need to keep up to do my big weight loss surge (as the Yanks would say).

Cooked the salmon last night. In a curry. And some dal. It was crap, unfortunately.

I think I just don't like salmon.

My super mother has been nagging me to go swimming with her. As in, in a pool. I used to be a good swimmer, in my glory days. Trained with Kerin Perkins when he was a lad, and went on to swim at high school and all the rest.

So it is something I could try and get back into.

In fact, I've been thinking that my real goal through all this health business is not so much to feel better, lose the weight and so on, but to do a triathlon. As I said, I can swim, if I got leaner and meaner I could ride a bike pretty well, and similarly if I got leaner I could run ok.

So that's my longer term goal.

But the next stage, for me, is to grind off some more weight. First I want to get back to the 15kg (how did I lose that exactly?), then 20, then 25. So basically I want to lose another 10kg (from the 15, which I'm close to).

Want to be smarter with my diet to do that this time, which is why I'm investigating things like salmon curry and the rest.

Got people coming for lunch today. Cooking some pasta and lamb.

Day 233: DIet

Ok, went for another walk this morning - almost 2 hours around the hill. Determined to knock off the kilos this year. I have two weeks off now, so the plan is to discover some tasty dishes to help me do it.

Things I want to eat more of are veges and fish. So I certainly want to look into salmon dishes and vege curries.

Funny the weight fell off for the first 13kg or so, now it isn't going anywhere.

My girlfriend's father gave me a 6 pack for Christmas. Thanks pop!

Interesting on my walk this morning, when I was planning the year out, and the things I want to do/weight I want to lose/fitness I want to gain, grog just didn't really fit in. If I really want to ramp up the fitness over the next 12 months, and look like a lean mean fitness machine at the end of it, then why would I get back on the turps.

Nobody, I mean nobody, would recommend going ON the turps to increase fitness/weight loss/to look better.

So that's really something to think about as the YEAR OFF THE GROG rolls on.

Day 232: Walk

Rather than be hung over today I instead walked off in the rain with my mother and ended up splashing around in a newly formed waterfall in the bush. Beautiful! I'm very lucky to be able to do this in the middle of the city.

Beats the fuck out of hungover.

Going to try and do some swimming this week, as well as the walking.

Was famished when I came in from my walk/swim. There was fuck all about so I made a beautiful fried bread and tomato salad with parsley and balsamic vinegar.

Day 231: Down on drinkers

I guess it was bound to happen. But here it is anyway, breathtaking in its hypocrisy: drinkers shit me. I'm talking about drinkers who get drunk: drunk people shit me. They aren't cool. They aren't suave. They aren't even very fucking social, being so distracted with their drinking at all.

They just shit me.

One thing they aren't is witty. They think they are. They also aren't charming. They aren't attractive. They are boring. They are slow. They are annoying. They are irritating.

They shit me to tears.

What this means of course, which is a very horrible conclusion for me, is that I've been a drunken, disgraceful bore of the worst kind for close to 20 years. Drinking with a consequence of getting drunk, even if that wasn't the goal, and harassing people to get drunk with me, with raucous drunken laughter (reinforcing my wit, in my mind), no doubt spitting in peoples faces as I spoke (drunks do this), cracking beer after beer, wine after wine, saying how great my mates were (we had a special relationship you see) when I was younger, and pretending great sophistication and discernment as my age (and relative) wealth increased. Getting pissed either way. And encouraging others to do the same.

Every single fucking week. For at least 15 years.

Every. Single. Fucking. Week.

How many hours have I spent this way I wonder. How many women may I have bedded but instead repulsed? How many days did I spend in a hung over stupor instead of enjoying my fleeting twenties (now gone) or the first half of my thirties (on its way)?

How much cash did I spend? I could have had a flash pad in my 20s (see bedding beautiful women point, above). I could have bought a home earlier.

And don't get me wrong, like you, dear reader: I was not an alco. Not by Australian standards anyway. If I was an alco then let me tell you 85% of adults in this country were. Or perhaps 60%, as I did show some enthusiasm that more moderate drinkers do not.

But I guess, to my horror, that I used to shit people as well. People other than fellow piss heads. You might consider everyone to be a piss head. Yes, well that may be true. But not everyone drinks as much as you. You are shitting them. Including that cute sober girl in the corner, Claire.

It makes me a bit sick, to be honest, thinking about time and opportunities wasted. Why spend your life drunk, illogical and offensive; all the time damaging your health, getting fatter and sicker. Such a waste.