gene genie
So, with a little under six weeks before we jet off to the Antipodes for a long-awaited honeymoon, it was off to the gym last night to begin the post-Christmas recovery. “Curse my fat-assed working class genes,” I muttered, finally accepting the fact that a slim, impossibly beautiful and golden couple had not been handed the wrong baby; F. Scott and Zelda, anyway, probably weren’t hanging around Dublin back in ‘68.
Thirty minutes at a steady pace on a treadmill set to Random (as in “Who knows where heart attacks will strike? They’re completely random.” ) left me convinced of one thing. Christmas did a lot of damage. Ah hell, who am I kidding: 2006 did a lot of damage. Lots of booze, lots of food. Lots of sitting around, lots of fun. It was fabulous, and the only reason I’m bitching now is because I can’t fit into the white cords I wanted to wear to the Sydney Mardi Gras.
Still, baby steps. The journey of a thousand miles, and all that (why did I just mistype that as “The journey of a thousand males?”). It’s all fitting in with the book I’m currently reading, the aforementioned How to Do a Great Job… and Go Home on Time. A good read so far, but it’s not just about doing a good job at the place that employs you. Oh, wait, it is… still, some of the concepts are definitely applicable across your life.
- Like, decide what matters to you and the other important people in your life.
- Having set goals, focus on them, one by one.
- Don’t be afraid of honesty.
- Saying ‘No’ can be a good thing, if saying ‘Yes’ is likely to result in your failure to complete anything (Better to finish 9 things, than to take on a tenth and end up half finishing everything).
- Then, of course, there is “Don’t be afraid of failure; Chances are you won’t fail, but the fear is what will do you in, so forget about it, concentrate on the work to be done, and get on with it.”
- And, lastly, my favourite “Guilt is a useless emotion.” (Hahahahahhaah. To a Recovering Cathoholic with a Nebbish complex. ‘Scuse me while I laugh ’til I pee myself).
So, as I consume my sixth guilt-free chocolate eclair, having decided that I will lose weight no matter what I eat, and said a very firm ‘No’ to going to the gym tonight because it will prevent me from finishing another task (namely the consumption of left-over mince pies and the watching of Desperate Housewives), I am confident that my new, goal-oriented, focussed, controlled life will soon bring out the sylph-like me.
*Don’t worry, D, I’m just joking; We are going. Still, Curse my fat-assed working class genes. And Stella Artois.