Slim. Trim. Dim.

So where was I?

The past few weeks have been a bit of a blur but, as I keep repeating in my head in some sort of wedding mantra, we're getting there.

The invites are nearly 'good to go' and the health drive? According to the NHS I'm now healthy.

I've lost some weight now, I blame the stairs, but it's a pretty cool thing. I know some will go back on but it's not a bad position to be in. I also bought a jumper in 'small' for the first time since I was... probably three.

It's a weird situation for me. I still think I've got a lot to do until I'm comfortable with my body. I'm not planning on losing much more weight. I just want to stay 'healthy'.

So I'm sorry for being a bit quiet. I've been a busy bee.

Next on the horizon? My 30th. Three decades of whisk(e)y, bad jokes and slightly weird thoughts to look back on and enjoy.
The big 3-0 as I've been told to call it does make you look back, reflect on where you've come from and where you want to go. I'd run off a few more cliches if I had time but they're well known sayings for a reason. There's always that element of truth.

I'm not going to share everything of course, that'd just be unfair on you. I can only imagine the look of horror on your faces if I ran off every wonky wonder I'd had.

Nope, the WTB will be get the worst of it.

Wish her luck.

It's about time

I think it's getting to the stage where I need to make time for exercise.

It's really annoying when people say: "The more time you put in the more time you find you have."
That's wrong for many reasons, the main one being we only have 24 hours in one day. This does not change.

OK, I'm taking things to literally but it's getting to me.


Tonight, I had planned to take Monty out for a quick breather in the cold evening air. I know, bikes can't actually breathe but she's locked up all day. The least I can do is give her a change of scenery. And yes, I know it's freezing outside but after a day at the desk it's nice to have a bit of time outside.
Yet I just can't seem to squeeze it in.
After cooking tea, washing up, taking down the washing, hanging out the washing, prepping and cooking lunch for the week, Monty is still tucked away and it's now gone 10pm.

I know I'm in some strange middle ground at the moment. Once I've learnt to a decent level I can take Monty to work and go on a longer jaunt on the way home. At the moment tho, I need time to get myself to that level.

Call this a mild panic. Label this as a temper tantrum. I'm just a tad frustrated.

Looking back and falling down

I guess the one thing I know will happen on Sunday is that I will fall off.

I will fall off and probably be a crumpled mess on the floor as the WTB looks at the sack of shame beneath her. And she giggles. She is one of those people who find You've Been Framed! hilarious.

So, no doubt, she will find my accidents very funny. And I use accidents in the plural - there will be more than one.

While my mind is probably playing tricks on me, and the WTB won't laugh too much, I have to face the facts that falling off is part of riding a bike whether you're a learner or a seasoned professional.

I think I can deal with the pain. It'll only be a few knocks and bumps leading to scrapes, scabs and weird marks on my legs/arms/torso. But, as with most things, it's the anticipation that's a killer. If I could only have a timetable of accidents planned out, then I could prepare. "Ah 2.05pm. I'll hit my ass in a minute. Time to clench."

As I prepare to get back on the bike, I can see all those moments I fell off in the past. The failed attempts at balancing. Those times I nearly had it... and then realised I didn't have it and the ground was getting closer to my body at an alarming rate.

But with those memories are fresh thoughts of enjoying bikes. Of going on boozy rides with my brothers and wobbling back in. Ideas of riding to work. Jaunts with the WTB. Dashing round town with a long list of errands like the Sultan of Cycling. Getting fit. Being in a decent shape for the wedding.

It's time to be confident about this.

While I may still be the sack of shame on the floor, I've just got to 'grow a pair' and get back on.