I got up at 6.30am today and cycled to Victoria for work, at lunch I cycled to Hammersmith for more work, then I cycled home. Arriving an hour earlier than anticipated, I decided to squeeze in a jog. I wanted to re-visit that ugly bit of Chisiwck I stumbled upon the other week when I got lost. This time I discovered a big park on the river I never knew existed! And a rubbish stretch of the 'Thames Path' which diverts you distinctly away from the water at every opportunity.
The quote above is direct from the man who loves me. He has a point. Finally stumbling home for good I headed straight for the fridge. A few obligatory sips of Gatorade (yuck), glass of chocolate soya milk to counteract the taste of metal, 2 slices of toast, jam and high-protein peanut butter, a nobbly bobbly and a fondant fancy (the yellow one, my fave) later, I felt sick. I am getting "even fatter" actually. I don't want to come over all Bridget Jones, but my waist has grown at least an inch since starting training in November. It's just that the contents of the fridge is all that gets me home sometimes.
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