Four days have passed now since Sunday morning's jog, at last I can walk without the pain of lactic acid in my thighs. They are still a little stiff, but it's been a long time, now I'm conscious of a knee feeling a bit wobbly. I'm beginning to understand being told by a friend who used to be significantly older "whatever you do don't get old." Well as if I am about to come across the fountain of eternal youth and stay young. I always wondered what that stream was under the money tree in my back garden. Knowing my luck if I did have a money tree it would be in Turkish Lira, making pretty good kindling and nothing else. Now I hesitate to contemplate whether I should go for another run. Maybe tomorrow morning. But I'm also due to get the train to Scotland tomorrow as well. Sitting still doesn't burn much calories up either. In fact when I think of everything I do physically, none of it helps. Maybe I shouldn't of cancelled my membership at the gym. I was under some impression by actually cancelling membership I would lose weight. It has only been since I joined the gym some 15 years or so ago I put it on. I never thought it was a great place for exercising, it's too neat, too tidy, too artificial, people don't more in the way the machines make them exercise. It creates technique which is bad for you, well it's my opinion. I could just be saying this to justify the reasoning behind giving up membership. Sod it. What have they done for me? Make me poorer and fatter. I think I deserve keeping my dosh in my own pocket. Especially when considering I'm not going to get a wage rise between now and when they give me the boot. When they do then maybe I'll lose more weight again.
Yes, Scotland tomorrow. I get to see Sparkling Eyes again and give her a big hug. Although I think I will have to probably make my own way to her house, but I'm no stranger to the bus. It's good because when I wake up in the morning I will actually hug her rather than wrapping my arms around myself wishing I was getting a hug. There is something about touching someone you love. It must release chemicals in the brain. A bit like they say it's good to stroke pets, they have a calming influence.
We will be heading off to Poland early on Sunday morning. Taking a flight from Edinburgh. I should of got a tourist book on Poland but just haven't had the chance. The agenda is open, we will do whatever takes us away from shops and chain stores. I want to eat real Polish food not a hamburger. Something traditional. Something which only tastes good when you are in the actual country, because it is only there the ingredients can be put together the way they should be. It's like going to China Town. There are so many Chinese restaurants around they have to be up to standard or they will not get customers. Except for the unfortunate rise of the "eat as much as you like" troughs. Where the food just doesn't taste quite up to standard. Polish traditional food looks earthy. Basic but good. British food has been bastardised so much we no longer know what traditional British food is. I'm sure if a questionnaire was asked of the general public most would think Spaghetti Bolognese was British. We have forgotten how to make our own traditional foods. As a country we get our food in instant packets from supermarkets, and then accept what is put in them as sustenance. It's not, it just looks it. If all the food in Poland is traditional I am going to be happy and probably put on a few more pounds. In which case I'll probably have to consider purchasing some Polish clothes to fit my larger girth. Damn I'd have to think about dieting and exercise just when I'm about to get a chance to stuff myself.
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