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As in...Kilos.

Dammit. Frickin metabolism has decided to mimic snails.

Of course mom blames the drinking.

G narrowed it down to beer. Which is probably more accurate.

But the thought of swigging wine and other sugary cocktails all night just doesn't do it for me in an alcoholic sense. Maybe if I just stick to scotch and bourbon...

But more sinisterly, I reckon I will have to start running again.

Dammit.

Ah crap.

Well at least I can now sorta guess why my back has been getting so beat up at training. Golubitsky wrote in his autobiog that he used to get similar problems when he got overweight in the offseason. I hope that's it. I never used to get this sore a year ago. Sigh. Ageing blows goats man.

This is all very depressing. I suppose it will be a quiet new year's celebration for me. Bah humbug (alright a bit late for that but it suits my mood).

Yes. I think that will be it. Drinks on Thursday to celebrate eve of the eve. A quiet evening in on Friday. A century ride on Saturday and strength training and running on Sunday. That will make me feel a bit more virtuous for the year ahead.

Bah.

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