The Uphill Struggle

Sigh.

Since the post-pizza moment yesterday, no more bathroom trips for Yours, Disappearingly. Consequently, the meals are piling up in my system. Sometimes, I even depress myself - weighed last night before going to bed. Grumped my way back into the bedroom.
'Y'OK honey?' said d.
'Fine,' I grumbled. 'But I've got three meals in me...'
She laughed, bless her.

Two more meals since then. Feeling huge and full and bloated.

Had a hard day's day-jobbery and editing, which meant by 5pm, I'd travelled all of 137 steps in the day.

Decided I wanted to do something more, something bigger and more challenging. So tonight I headed off up something called Penyard Hill, and along a ridge that allows you to look down on the town centre. I've always looked down on the town, so Penyard makes a certain intrinsic sense to me, and it's the first of Merthyr's many hills on which I lived as a child. I walked down from the ridge, ending up at the town's Tesco store. Walked around that for a while, for no terribly good reason. Then decided to walk up the high street home.

For thos who don't know, Merthyr is a town built of all the hills left over after Indianna was rolled out with the geolocial equivalent of a steamroller. Even the downhills go up in Merthyr, it's a geographical absurdity. The high street leads upward and flows into a second, steeper incline called Pontmorlais, and at the top of Pontmorlais, our house now clings to the side of an enormo-hump, like a giant geological zit, which involves trekking up two fundamental bastard hills - we live at the almost very top of the second of them.

Which is why we take a lot of cabs since moving out of our flat in the town centre.
By the time I got to the two utter bastards, I was realising how long it's been since I've done anything like that. By the time I'd clawed my way to the top of the first bastard, I was gasping, thinking 'Fuck it, I'll just live here, by this lamppost.' In fact, I actually texted d from that lamppost, at the bottom of our street, to say as much.

By the time I got in through the door I was a sweat-drenched, breathless pug of a human being.

Which of course is one of many, many reasons to do this damned thing in the first place. Still - reasonably good eye-opener, that. One has a tendency to think that nothing has changed in one's fitness level until the real world smacks one in the face with a two-by-four. Or an evil bastard hill.

Onward! Upward! Downward through the stone-counter, dammit!