halt 28 September 2008
I’ve had to get back on the treadmill to halt the spread. I have a bit of a rule that when my clothes start to feel tight or not fit properly or just look downright shite on me it’s time to act. There is now a tyre around the midriff that won’t disappear of its own volition. In fact it’ll take more than the treadmill for that – the dreaded willpower to eat and drink less will have to come into play. I hate having to take formal steps to remedy the situation. They don’t always work for me either. Sure, I feel better for having exercised and that, of itself, is a good thing but I need to be dashing around for work, and all of the adrenalin that gets expended with that, for the body to drop the pounds. Mind you, a trampoline sounds a great way to achieve all that and good fun too – nowhere to put even a mini one, what with the CHAOS reigning courtesy of the builders. We should have 9 weeks to go at this stage but we lost at least 2 because of the shit weather during what we should never have to call a summer.
I had a lovely email from Chris in the US who lives in the same town as the Newmans and is very glad to report that Paul Newman was a total gentleman, a joy to encounter and worked tirelessly to raise funds for local schools and charities as well as his national work. Her heart, like everyone else’s, is broken at his passing. What a great guy.
