Although there’s been cycling, hill walking and the odd bit of running these past few weeks, it’s been about a month since I saw the inside of the LivingWell gym at the Caledonian Hilton.
I could blame a lack of time, which is part of the story. But in all honesty the demon drink is mostly to blame as I fell off the wagon for a couple of weeks, and in fairly spectacular fashion.
Late nights, pints, nips, wine even the odd cocktail for good measure.
But in my defence, not so bad on the food front, although there has been a distinct lack of fruit going on.
The sum total of all this seeing my first weight gain of the year, a modest 2lb, but still very much in the wrong direction.
Which is how I found myself doing something I’d never done before.
I bought a pint and walked away and left it.
It wasn’t a deliberate act.
But as I stood in the Horseshoe Bar in Glasgow ready to slake my thirst on the way for a train home, I just asked myself, ‘what are you doing?’.
So there it was left, untouched, unless someone swiped it as the saloon bar doors swung shut behind me.
It just seemed stupid that having invested so much time and effort in these past six months to throw it all away, just because the resolve was flagging a little.
I know Iain feels the same, his month of excess the result of weddings abroad, but last night we both acknowledged it’s been a bad month.
Which is why we fairly rattled into the training with Paul last night.
Squats, weights, sit ups, press, ups, chest presses, shoulder presses, cycling – it was all in there and the sweat fair lashed off us.
But afterwards, yes over a pint, we came up with a six week plan.
We’re taking the bikes up to Lewis next week, Iain’s homeland, and plan to spend three days cycling as much of the island as we can while fitting in the Hebridean Festival as we go.
The following weekend, with our chums at the Bo’ness Hillwalking and Touring Company, we will walk the Tarmachan Ridge.
That, we hope, will serve as a worthy warm up to our main challenge of scaling Scotland’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, with a bit of luck aided and abetted by someone from mountain rescue, my chosen charity.
Then I have a week to cram in as much training as I can ahead of the Forth Road Bridge 10k.
I entered because having ticked Arthur’s Seat off my to do list last Sunday, the bridge is another iconic place I’ve always wanted to visit but never taken the time, even though it’s on my doorstep.
And that gives me a chance to see how far I’ve progressed, or indeed regressed, in my running since that first race back in January.
Arthur’s Seat was an amazing way to spend my 38th birthday.
The sun was beating down, I could see it loom into view from the train, and with my son Joshua on a carrier on my back it was the perfect setting.
It was actually harder than I thought, perhaps because of the two stone of little guy atop my back, maybe because of the heat.
But the views of my home city were tremendous, the buzz and thrill of the tourists at the top amazing.
And frankly, a visit that was long overdue.
So that done, a return to the gym, some running planned for the weekend ahead means the six weeks to follow are a real chance for me and Iain to get back on the straight and narrow.
We’ve come this far. There can be no going back now.
