Ergh. I'm on a mission thanks to bloody birmo and his health crusade.
20kg. Sheesh, I don't know how it happened seeing as I've made a point of not ever owning a set of scales. I've been going to see a naturopath to try to get some relief for hayfever - the drug solution doesn't work, so I'm looking outside western medicine for possibilities, and she weighed me. It was a bit of a shock to find that I weigh the same as the average A grade rugby leage player.
She has put me in a course of iodne to get my metabolism up, and I'm looking at a goal of 75kg. Going to have to cut out the booze, fags, fats, sugars and carbs and get off my fat backside and exercise. I guess must be a mid life crisis. The idea of turning fifty this year has put me into a bit of a tail spin. There's a whole pile of stuff I want to get done before I keel over, and if my parents are any indication of what I have to look forward to in my dotage - alheimer's, morbid obesity and diabetes - I've only got 20 years left, and only ten of those relaitvely healthy.
So, I'm going to try for twenty really good, mobile, intellectually sharp, fit years. Well, that's the plan, anyway.
OK Hughsey, off you go then, get off the bloody computer and hit that hill.