Let’s face it. I’m just gunning for a replica Eddie Murphy Raw costume.

Tough Mudder is tomorrow, which means I’ve been going on about this for the past two months.

Isn’t retrospect interesting?

By far the most prophetic thing in the entry was the last line. Pokémon Go was a game changer. It did make fitness fun. As you can well read, I’d planned to jog a little here and there. Six workouts including runs. Instead, hatching eggs became a part time job. Six workouts a week became seven or eight, sometimes nine, all in pursuit of a snorlax with decent IVs. As you could tell by my relative silence over the past week, the allure of Pokémon Go is dying out a little. I’ve hardly turned the app on in the past few days, no longer content to deal with the bugginess and lack of enticing new goals to reach. Still, while it held me fast, it kept me moving fast. I ran well over 200km playing that game, not to mention the many kilometres run while the game crashed or stalled.

The chain reaction of all the extra cardio fed into the other large question mark. Food. I decided to not be as militant as last year, but still tighten up with a month to go. Because I’d been running so much, I reached my goals far earlier than I expected. Consequently I did not go cold turkey. I let myself have cake now and then. I had a boozy night or two. Compared to last year, it’s put me in a much better place mentally. I haven’t resented the stresses I’ve put myself under, instead I practised moderation a bit more than normal. The goal was never to come out of this experience with a six pack, but to get to a point where I could feel proud of my progress and comfortable with my body. You know what? I am. I’ve done a shit-ton of work and I’m pleased with the results. I like my shape, and where bits are a little more round than is considered conventionally attractive, I’m starting to see them as features rather than flaws.


I’m stronger than I’ve been in the past year. After a long reprieve from straight up weightlifting, I was amazed to have kept up. I can still lift and squat under heavy bars. I’ve also become much better at gauging my limits and gently prodding them rather than trying to barge them down. I’m more respectful of my body and treat it far kinder than I ever have. My muscles are responsive, meaning I can do all the things I want to do and then some. Best of all, constant recurring pains are at their ebb. I feel great physically and because of this, despite whatever long-held body image anxiety I have, I see the representation of that in the mirror. I acknowledge all the things I can do and in the face of that, it’s harder to focus on what I can’t.

Maybe talk to me again after a week of hard drinking and we’ll see how I feel then.


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