After spending three busy days at a psychology conference, I got home yesterday feeling like I’d run a marathon.
A combination of sleep disruption and poor food (despite me bringing Huel with me) left me in tatters,
And yet, despite breaking my diet and exercises promises (to myself) during the week, I crawled out of bed this morning and made it out on to the streets for a run to Tower Bridge and back.
It wasn’t fun – despite listening to another couple of chapters of Chris Hadfield’s autobiography on Audible as I ran – but I persevered, knowing it was the right thing to do.
I felt a lot better by the time I made it home. Well enough to head out to lunch with some friends to The Gun, where we ate far too much excellent meat.
I started with a delicious pastry-encrusted portion of boar (fantastic!) and then shared a chateaubriand when one of our friends. It was heavenly. I quickly forgot the run in the cold and wet and submerged myself in the delicious meal and excellent conversation.
After two-and-a-half hours of non-stop eating and chatting (mostly about travel plans and how to game frequent flyer programmes, with a quick deviation into the social meaning of topless sunbathing), we finished up and headed for home. I skipped desert (and wine!) and think I came out on top, calorie-wise, when all the exercise and food were accounted for.
I have another long run planned for tomorrow morning, plus some gym time. Next week, I’m in Dublin Wednesday to Thursday, but the hotel has a decent gym and I have plenty of walking to do between meetings around town. I should be able to remain relatively healthy and maintain my slow and steady weight loss.
Let’s see how well I do at avoiding that delicious Guinness while I’m there…