Saturday 21st March 2020

I began this, the last fitness drive, in the 2nd week of January, one that would fall by the wayside as has happened over the last eight years, time and time again. And yet here I am, over two months on and I am still pumping lard, getting the sessions done, and little by little, getting fitter and slightly thinner.

But it seems my desire to move things on to the next level meant that come Saturday, I was shattered. I had no idea how tired I was.

In a week I do eight or nine session on the cross trainer. Only about four hours a week, but much more than I was doing two weeks ago, so I am pooped.

I can't claim that work is getting me down, now that I don't have to travel, means I can do two sessions a day, work, cook dinner and be all ready for dinner at six.

But all this meant tat come Saturday, I was tired. I had no energy for anything. Just as well then that Jools had done the shopping and we wanted for nothing, meaning I could start which was, after all, an official "rest day". I took full advantage.

That and, well, a certain ailment of the lower half of the body, meant I was in pain and tired.

Jools went to do some gardening, and I stayed inside to do some cleaning, tidying. I cleaned the deep fat fryer. Inside and out, and the filter and the glass panel.

I then prepare the steak for dinner. Grind fresh pepper then rub extra virgin olive oil on the steaks and leave to stand in their own juices.

Jools is full of energy. I am not.

She goes out to the bottom patio to scrape away the weeds and slime from the stones, spread inhibitor on the stones, and after about four hours it looks fabulous. I cleaned the deep fat fryer.

The shine shines brightly on the back garden, making the snakesheads glow in the light. I snap them as they are so fleeting.

I boil potatoes then cook steak, fry the potatoes, in the clean deep fat fryer, and cook garlic mushrooms. And it comes together wonderfully well, all washed down with the last bottle of red fizz, mores the pity.

All of a sudden I get really tired so go to the spare bed for a lay down and rest my eyes.

The afternoon slips by.

I feel little better in the evening, we have a ham roll and half a pork pie each. We listen to the radio and Jools beats me at Uckers.

Again.

I go to bed at eight, apparently to read, but my eyes don't work, so I lay in bed listening to Craig Charles and his Trunk of Funk until nine, at which point I give in, so Scully and I curl up together and fall asleep.