Thursday, 31 March 2011

When It Rains...

I woke up at about 4.30 this morning, to discover that Mama Conchita had been back to swap hips again. But as I sat there, peeing, I realised that the noise wasn't all me. It was raining.

It can't be raining, it's Spring for God's sake. As I sat there, I was in two minds. Well, one mind and one set of hips. The hips wept with joy at what would have to be a free pass on the morning walk - I'm not walking in the rain unless I go slightly demented with calorie-counting obssession, it reminds me waaaaaay too much of being young and too poor to ride the bus in Wales. I used to walk up and down from school every day, come rain, come snow, come baking heat (yes, occasionally, even in Wales), and everywhere else we used to go, we had to walk. You had to be really dedicated to be a fat fuck and poor in Wales when I was a kid, it was practically my first job.

So as I say, I was quite relieved at 4.30 to think I wouldn't have to do the morning walk, and could say so with a clear conscience, or at least a legitimate excuse. Of course, that started me thinking. It's a habit I can't seem to break, especially at 4.30 in the morning. It hasn't properly rained since I've started this, but if I'm doing it for an entire year, from March to March, the time is going to come when it's not gonna be bright, and I'm still going to have to find a way to get the walking in, getting the exercise in to keep pushing the weight down.

Can't say I found a solution. I fell asleep, dribbled down my beard and pretty much fell head first off the toilet. Me and Elvis, we're like that.

Maybe, by the time the weather genuinely becomes a factor, I'll have forgiven gyms enough to join another one. Who knows?

When I woke up at sensible o'clock, my hips ached, and the smile spread across my lips.
"Oh well," I said to d, who's still extremely sick. "Can't walk this morning. Still pouring down, is it?"
"What the heck are you talking about?" she asked.
"The rain," I said.
"Nope," she said. "No rain...not for a while now."

Mama Conchita and I bit our lips and dragged our aching hips up the Goddammedsonofabitch of a hill...again.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to drag the Brazilian hooker on a ten mile bike ride...

Bugger, bugger, bollocks and sods...

1 comment:

  1. You weren't the only one who walked to school mate, I used to walk to both the premises of my school, from the village I live in, now is it any wonder I am a rake to this day!

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