Movember 2012

[Sweder]

A maelstrom whips around the Lewes hills. November's dance has reached it's climax, leaves cavorting through head-banging hedgerows. I think of the birds on a night like this. How do they cope? Their tiny, frail bodies must be slaves to the wind. I imagine them piled up against the sides of sheds, stunned, feathers all akimbo.

I love this weather. Heading out from the house knowing full well you're going to get a good pasting is life-affirming. I grin and revel in it. Following a fabulous lower limb workout on Tuesday night I hit the hills on Wednesday, hamstrings humming, glutes aglow. Far from slowing me down I fair flew around my three mile circuit, enjoying the solid feel of my hardening core, the drive coming from the engineroom of my refurbished hindquarters. I must keep this up, the benefits are coming.

This morning everything was a good deal tighter. My legs felt sore after Tuesday's medieval procedures, squats, lunges and leg-raises that threatened to snap sinew. Still, a reasonable effort. I'm out again in a few hours before heading off to Amsterdam.

My weight has levelled off at 90.5 or so. This is partly thanks to my sneaking a bowl of nuts and raisins laced with dark chocolate chunks to share with Newsnight's lovely Maitlis of an evening. It's cheating, and of course the scales lie in wait to read the riot act each day. A week away will help and hinder. I'm determined to side-step the Guinness Sirens, yet the food on offer will be tasty and plentiful.

Our lady of blessed self-restraint don't fail me now.