Blog Image

Henry Vill

The weighing game

This a personal account of my battle to get fit and lose around 2 stone in weight within 3 months. But will I do it?

© Oseland 2011

Day 131

Personal Posted on Tue, August 16, 2011 10:27PM

Spent the day in Manchester, up at 05.00 for a 06.00 train and back at 18.30 – that’s a long day by any standard.

Henry



Days 127 to 130

Personal Posted on Tue, August 16, 2011 10:26PM

Day 130

Did a bit of business early morning then packed up whilst the kids, wife and Bloody Dog enjoyed themselves on the beach. Sometimes I sacrifice my own enjoyment for my family (but I did enjoy the peace and quiet and challenge of packing up a six man tent in the rain by myself).

As the sky turned grey and secreted Cornish drizzle (that light but persistent rain that manages to permeate right through to your bones) we left Cornwall.

Day 129

We tricked the kids into going for a walk. We intended to just stretch the Bloody Dog’s legs but the tide was so far out that we managed to walk from Parrnporth to Perran Sands along the beach, and then walked back over the cliffs. Quite a nice little round trip. I treated the kids (and myself) to ice-cream as a reward.

We then went off to Newquay Zoo for a few hours; it’s a great little town zoo. The meerkats were on form, they were either sunbathing or hiding from the local air traffic. Later we went back the beach and the kids played in the sand whilst I drank Rattlesnack Cider at the Watering Hole.

Sunbathing (evidently male) meerkat

Day 128

Had a great day on the beach body boarding with the kids. It was cold but not ball threatening cold.

Day 127

We set off early for a long weekend camping in Cornwall. As usual we had an argument about not fitting everything in the car and being late. I get blamed for the tent being too large and the wife for having a Bloody Dog who takes up most the boot. The roof box was bursting at the seams as were the veins in my temples. After stopping at the Little Chief (not one of Heston Bloominidiot’s makeovers – this one was worn nylon chairs, melamine tables and deep fried bread) we got to Perranporth some five and a half hours after departure, but nevertheless spent time on the beach.

Despite having a camp shop and a camp bar, for which I had images of moustached and cravated men drinking Campari and soda, the campsite was a bit rough around the edges and not at all camp. The main attraction was that the site was just five minutes’ walk from Parranporth beach and the Watering Hole, a down to earth pub actually amidst the sand dunes.

Henry