When I was young I would always push it to the wire with exams. I’d never bother my arse until the last minute, then cram it in and scrape past by the skin of my teeth.
It might have seen me through school, and indeed University where I somehow managed to condense four years of inactivity in to approximately six weeks of frantic study. (A ‘Drinking Man’s First’ since you ask)
As it happens the career I chose, journalism, was one of the few where this slapdash approach was not only tolerated, but actively encouraged.
Go in to work, do it properly, go at it hard all day, get the paper out, swab the decks, get to the pub, and start it all again tomorrow. Blank slate.
It’s not actually the best way to work and it is certainly not the way to live your life.
But yet here we are again.
This year has been an eye-opener. There are parts of it which will remain with me until the day I die.
But I have been a disappointment to myself with the weight loss. Halfway there with three quarters of the year gone. Not good enough.
I was out with Shaun the other night and I was a little early in turning up to the bar where we were meeting.
I sat in the corner at a table with a side on view of the door.
Now, I see Shaun regularly, whether it be at the gym, boxing club, whatever. At a guess I’d say at least once a fortnight.
But I swear when he walked in I did not recognise him. He was way past me and at the bar before I realised it was actually him. The weight he has lost is staggering.
Which makes me reflect all the more on my own deficiencies. So many false dawns and broken promises.
I have 75 days left to lose two and a half stone – 35lb. that’s nearly 1lb every two days.
A tall order.
In fact, in all honesty…probably beyond me.
But, but, but…This is my Verdun moment. I can still give this one almighty crack. I have no strategy other than gym, gym, gym and protein shakes, fruit, veg and healthy food. If you have any ideas, feel free to drop me a line.
There was a lad next to me in the sweat room at the boxing club the other week. I asked him if he had a fight coming up, he said he did. I asked how much he needed to cut. He said ‘a few kilos’.
I did a mental workout and figured there are 2.2lb to a kilo, ‘a few kilos’ sounds like a lot.
I asked him when his fight was, and he said..’this weekend’. He was trying to lose about 6lb in a week. Which really is a lot.
I would not try to match that, I couldn’t. But I have a rowing machine in the house, a gym round the corner. I have run out of time and excuses not to take this project seriously.
I feel like I have already let so many people down, not least myself, but we are still far enough out from Hogmanay that it can be given a mighty good effort.