For those that recall my question of a few days ago - about whether I could do a solid working week of my two-hour gym sessions...the answer would apparently be notsomuch.
Was woken up this morning by kind words in a soft voice, telling me not to get up and do this thing. In my still sleep-drugged state, I agreed with it, seeing daylight at around 7.30.
Went and had a Starbucks day, downloading a pdf of calorific and nutritional information for every conceivable thing to eat or drink in the place. I'm not entirely sure the values on the pdf are right, because they don't seem to correspond to values on the walls of the shop itself - but apparently, my large de-caff skinny lattes cost me only 178 calories a pop - which is good to know if you're trying to spend the day there and not go madly overboard with milk and cream and weak-ass coffee.
Came home after an unexpectedly satisfying day of work and - as I promised - I got on the bike and started pedalling my ass off.
Now, far be it for me to cast aspersions, but my trusty old bastard-evil bike, bless it, is no Dalek Bike. I managed to rack up 600 sweaty calories - say three de-caffs - while reading, of all things, Julius Caesar in Suetonius's 12 Caesars. One down...Eleven to go.
Eating late tonight as a result of the Caesarian bikefest though - nearly 11 as I write this, and just about to sit down to dinner. Will see how that affects things going forward.
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