A brief account of a wedding reception.

That seems like the right sort of title.  I got married on 28/05/2014, or blessed at least, and I wanted to get the details down before something else pushes the interesting little bits out of my head.  I'll break this up into 3 sections, before, during and after and we'll see how that goes.

Day 1 - THE EVE OF A NEW BEGINNING

Pompous.  I like that.

We spent a good long time decorating 50 cups.  That was something.  50 blank cups and saucers onto which we were going to transfer a picture of a tree then add a bit of writing to as a memento of the day.  That was the plan, anyway.  I did a few after work and since it isn't the kind of work that requires a lot of thought but does require a lot of patience and time, I put a few cartoons on.  By measuring each cup in terms of episodes of Garfield and Friends (henceforth a unit referred to as one (1) Garfield, equivalent to about 25 minutes 'cause you don't get commercials on Netflix), I determined that to scribble a graphite outline onto 4 images took roughly 1 Garfield.  It also gave me hand cramp.  To rub the image onto a cup took around 0.5 Garfields.  To trace in ceramic pen took an additional 0.5 Garfield.  I could refer to a half Garfield as an Orson for the half episode that's always an episode of Orson's Farm but that's just being silly.
So a cup takes roughly 1.25 Garfields or half an hour.  Ish.  The saucers took about twice that, so we're looking at 3.75 Garfields per cup.

Anyway you slice it, that's just too long to get done in an evening after work when I need to feed myself and take a shower so we ended up just cutting out a different image from a square of paper, ceramic painting over the holes and leaving it at that.  If you attended and have a cup with a really elaborate tree looking pattern on the saucer or a leaf motif on the cup, you have one of the rare ones.  It's like a collectable card game!  If you have a saucer with a LOT of writing on it, you have one from when Hanna was doing her shift with the saucers and was starting to get a bit more creative towards the end of the last batch.  If you have one that looks like it was written on by a 6 year old, that's one of mine.

I spent most of the time on the cup production line cooking and making tea.  I don't really know how to use a pen for more than 15 minutes without experiencing physical pain (no, seriously) so that was probably fine.

We'd wake up most mornings to find that Hanna's dad had, like the mice in the Tailor of Gloucester, had done most of our work for us.  Along with Chris, who actually kind of WAS a tailor, he may have single handedly saved much of the day.

We packed up on Tuesday afternoon, forgot a few bits, lost the cat's vaccination certificate, found the cat's vaccination certificate and eventually managed to pull into Windermere at around 3pm which was only, like, 3 hours late.  A few family dropoffs, a few meetings of peoples, a massive meal at the local Italian, some fatherly speeches and a trip to the in-laws (hey, there's a term I can seriously use, now!) later, we collapsed into bed.

The in-law accommodation bears mentioning.  Goodness knows how they found it but we discovered that after a mile of driving up a country road dotted with cattle grids, they'd managed to rent some kind of self catering manor house.  I wish this was an exaggeration.  More than 15 bedrooms, 2 lounges, one with a log fire, 2 kitchens, bathrooms all over the place... it's the kind of house where playing hide and seek would require you to pack a lunch.

Our place was rather fancy.  The top floor or a 4 star... B&B seems like the wrong term.  It was like a little hotel with valet parking, complimentary sherry and toffees and a decently stocked bar.  The local ale wasn't my personal cup of tea but you couldn't fault them on variety.  Our room had 3 lights and a remote which allowed you to select 3 brightness levels or, like, 16 colours as well as strobe settings.  Given that this was effectively a bridal suite, we weren't sure why that was there because we don't find discos particularly... well, alluring?  It was nice to set one of them to teal and leave it on as a night light for the bathroom though and it made for a good half hour's sleep deprived amusement.

Day 2 - A THIRTY HOUR DAY

I insist that there is not enough time in a day to get done what we got done.

Awake, breakfast.  Easy enough.  I think I was supposed to be freaking out at this point but everything was going pretty well.  The only time I felt nervous all day was waiting for Hanna to walk down the aisle and realising that I'd left my deodorant in the room which was now filled with half a dozen women getting changed.  There was a minefield I wasn't about to prance through.  I dressed myself which, as those of you present for my graduation will, was an achievement.  Hanna apparently underwent some kind of Cinderella montage upstairs involving makeup and the most elaborate dress in the world.  I put on a fancy hat and wondered when we were having lunch.

I had an easier day all over, I think.

Off to the venue after realising I'd forgotten the ipod with the music on it that I'd spent 2 weeks preparing.  Whoops.  I then didn't realise that the music for going down the aisle and doing the whole recessional thing was also mean to be coming from my ipod and that I should have given it to the hotel staff.  Whoops again.  It was quite a quiet ceremony.  I wasn't really sure how I was meant to be reacting throughout as I was stood in front of a room full of people I knew to varying degrees so I just kind of grimaced and flapped ineffectually until Hanna was walked down the aisle.  Looking suitably radiant.  That bears mentioning.  I looked like a prat in a hat but I felt kinda fancy and I was wearing big boy aftershave so that was okay.

Vows were exchanged in front of our local priest who's a very nice man and drove a very long way to avoid a boring meeting.  So we did him a favour, I guess.   I couldn't help feeling like I sounded horribly sarcastic throughout the swearing before God stuff which is terrible because that wasn't the intention but damned if I know how you're supposed to address someone when you're stood in that kind of position.  I was sort of focusing on keeping it together through the slight emotional wobble that I was experiencing.  But I didn't fall over or cry inconsolably during the vows so that was lovely.  High expectations!  We exchanged rings and I'm quite sure that mine can't be removed now without a lot of effort.  It's pretty firmly stuck on.  After that, there was a lot of clapping, some parental tears and we retired to some kind of lounge to take photos.  I supplied the venue with an ipod.  It was barely audible throughout the day but the boat made up for that with GUSTO.

We also drank the toasting wine during the photos due to a bit of confusion.  A bit of confusion with the box which had "TOASTING WINE ONLY" written on it in black marker pen.  But heigh ho, I kind of wanted a drink.

A lot of photos followed, as is the way of things.  Family on the stairs, friends on the stairs, family around the hotel, family outside, us walking down paths holding umbrellas, me trying to stab my best men through the head with a samurai sword umbrella, men carrying bags, women wearing hats, women pretending to kiss me, boy-girl conga lines... that was a bit of a blur.  There was also some fishing out of a good luck horseshoe from the lake after it went for a bit of a swim.  That was pretty funny and it came back fine.

Off to the hotel for high tea and lots of little sandwiches.  Our toastmaster did a lot of shouting for us, then people clapped a lot which was nice of them.  I think everyone thought the salmon was tomato.  I certainly did.  Sorry if you don't like salmon.  After a few rounds of sandwiches and cake, a few of us hunted for a beer.  There were no bartenders so our lovely toastmaster sought us out a man who looked like he was employed by the hotel and made him pull pints for us.  I think he may have been a manager or something so that was kinda nice of him.  Speeches to follow.  Hanna's dad's was pretty perfect, Danny's was really rather pleasant and very nostalgic, Wayne's was pretty funny.  The brewery tour satnav story never gets any worse for the retelling.  Mine was long, rambling, partially improvised and is included at the end of this post.  It turns out that "I first realised that I had a crippling fear of public speaking when I was in college" isn't a good opening line unless people know you're trying to go for a funny speech.  Lesson learned!

Back to the hotel to get changed and have a cheeky cup of tea.  They laid on a bottle of champagne on the house which was lovely of them so we gave them tea and cake.  Lonsdale house is staffed by the most charismatic man in the entire world, so if you ever go there (which we can both recommend), look for Andrew.  You'll know him when you see him.

Champagne quaffed due to time restrictions, we headed to the boat we'd rented a little unsteadily, hopped on board and they accepted an ipod happily.  And loudly.  That was much better.  Beers happened, a barbecue happened and a lot of conversation with the new members of my family who really wanted to buy me beers.  Splendid bunch of people.  Lots of new friends made, old friends reunited, music, 3 hours of conversations and a bit of a dance in the rain to our finally-played recessional, You Ruined Everything by Jonathon Coulton.  It's quite a nice song, look it up.  I put in a request for Another Winter by Anamanaguchi as we rolled into port which probably confused the locals.

We finished with a trip to the local pub, a couple more beverages, pool, pinball, more conversations then back to bed as I had to have a little lay down while being overwhelmed by the cards and presents and suchlike that we'd been sent.  'cause seriously, that was all stunning and more than a bit emotional.

Thanks again to everybody who attended, wrote to us or in any way interacted with this wedding.  It was a really perfect day out, just a function with close friends and family, wonderful company throughout the day and 15 straight hours of happiness.  We couldn't have asked for anything more and you all really made it for us.


Day 3 - A NEW HOPE

The aftermath.

A spot of lunch with the Goodways.  Or a Goodway and a Spence.  I mean, I'm not sure if you guys are cool with being referred to collectively as the Goodways so do correct me if you read this.  A bit of a trip around Lakeland Plastics with Emma, no doubt accompanied by my Nanna and Grandad who are probably haunting the Lake District.  A trip to Kendall to drop off the suits and get some fancy-pants bread.  That was bloody good bread.  Then to a little restaurant where were ordered an unreasonable amount of Tapas.  It's worth pointing out at this point that around Windermere, all the restaurants are fairly small.  They're all also very, very good.  We've been to easily a dozen of them now and they've been fantastic.  I always leave Winderemere with indigestion and I never truly care.

Someone appears to have stolen my pepto bismol.  Poo.  There's a jar of Nutella but I don't think that'll help.

Back to the in-law's palatial home for the evening.  Seems they'd already had a photo of the day printed and framed as a wedding present which was pretty amazing.  Lovely picture of us, too.  We're both really chuffed with that, it captured the whole feeling of the day really nicely.

The final day was a high point.  Out in the morning to a local greasy spoon 'cause we decided to see if we could sleep in past the hotel's breakfast times on account of us both having had zero chances to sleep in lately.  Nothing quite like a full English at a cafe to give a horrendous lining to the stomach.  I could have chugged a bottle of vinegar and fire ants after that with no ill effects.  We then went to the Beatrix Potter museum which was pretty lovely but it turns out that going to a museum aimed at kids and filled with kids is a really good way to feel super conspicuous.  We weren't the only adult couples there though so that was fine.  They actually mentioned quite a lot about her life, inspirations and history in there which was pretty interesting so while it wasn't something for the dads in the Peter Kay sense, it was still rather interesting.

Then on to the lake.  We'd noticed signs for speedboat rental and it turned out to be £18 for two adults for an hour.  Couldn't say no at all.  15 minutes of queueing and watching the attendant negotiate with some Chinese tourists, 5 minutes of watching them try to row out of the docks with limited success and we were off.  If you've never rented a speedboat, we heartily recommend it because it's enormous fun.  You get to go where you want throughout the lake, see the yachts up close and exchange gestured thanks with experienced sailors which makes you feel like a courteous badass.  We both had a go, taking turns to operate the gearbox or the tiller and taking photos.  Really great stuff.

I fed a swan.  I used to be terrified of them on account of how they eat people but I think I tamed a few of them.  I also learned what pigeons are.

We went poking around the local shops and found an art gallery.  We'd been in the one in Windermere town centre.  This one stocked a few bits by an artist that we're collecting pieces from so we got a couple of prints.  Or maybe we bought them on the Thursday... I think we did.  But we found a really nice oil painting by a local artist who does some pieces that we really like.  There was one with a couple sailing a rowing boat up to a cliff with a lighthouse at night and a little constellation of a heart in the sky and... we... may have bought ourselves a substantial wedding present.  I think we're yuppies now.  We eat olives and bruschetta and all the rest of that cultured shit.

Then we went for ice cream, a nap and then steak burgers and beer.  Very good burgers, those.

Early morning, early onto the motorway, back home with no trouble, a spot of lunch with my parents and their lovely, lovely dogs who were in town by coincidence.  Back home, laundry, blog, photo upload.  We've got one more day before we head to Brighton for the legal bit.  Genuinely can't wait for that.

Overall, a wonderful week, slightly dull weather but some spectacular views and wonderful memories.  And one slight hangover.


And the speech which may or may not resemble the actual speech I delivered but was certainly the one I was holding on the day:

I’m not known for my experience of public speaking so, thinking on everything I’ve learned on the subject of speech writing and delivery I was reminded of that classic piece of advice: “Imagine your audience is in their underwear”. 

Pause. 

So, how are we all feeling about that?  I’m not actually doing it, don’t worry.  I mean, it seems dreadfully unfair if, like today, your audience has expended a considerable amount of effort in looking exceptionally presentable.  And I find the idea of a lawn full of people in their underwear to be terrifying, quite frankly. 

So, if I may, I’d like to start with a bit of a story, move on to the thanks and then we can all bask in that lovely moment of relief where I stop talking.  It’ll be coming in about 5 minutes so if you want to take a quick nap, I won’t think any less of you. 

I think, though it’s hard to really put my finger on it, that I really fell for Hanna in the summer of 2008.  I’d just graduated from university and I’d decided to take a couple of months off to wind down from all those gruelling 4 hour working days.  I’d spend my days padding out my CV, playing video games and surfing the Internet, all fairly typical student stuff, but I spent a lot of time chatting online.  I met Hanna the previous Autumn in a pub in Huddersfield where we’d gone for a gaming society meeting and we got to know each a little better each Tuesday during our game.  Come the summer, as everyone went home I started chatting online with a handful of the people I’d met that year but I found that whenever I was talking with Hanna, I’d lose track of time.  More than once, I remember going to bed as everybody else in the house was waking up. 

Rather than your stereotypical, rose tinted scene where the feelings of affection are realised as the two gaze into each other’s eyes, we weren’t anywhere near each other when it happened for me.  It must have been 4 in the morning, sat bathed in the glow of my monitor, when I came to the life changing realisation that I’d finally met someone that was so aligned to my own peculiar mental wavelength that we could talk for hours on end without running out of things to say. 

It was pretty astounding.  It still is. 

Come the February of next year, I decided to ask her out.  Wednesday the 18th, 2009 at about 9 in the evening.  One later evening, the following… day I think, I received the most profound and meaningful “Maybe” of my life.  Things have escalated from that point in a really alarming fashion ever since. 

We’d both like to thank you all for coming down.  I realise that none of you live anywhere near Windermere (if it’s any consolation, neither do we) but we hope to have inconvenienced everyone as fairly and equally as possible.  The main reason for being here, however, is that this is the place where we got engaged in the first place (and later this evening, we’ll be going out on the same boat on which the question was, as they say, popped).  It really does mean the world to us that you’ve come to share this experience today. 

So, for specific thanks: 

Tony, thanks from both of us for supporting this union and being willing to allow yourself to be in any way connected to the Sparks’.  I appreciate that it’s more than a lot of people would be willing to deal with.  I’d also particularly like to thank you for what might be the classiest response to “I’d like to ask if I could marry your daughter”, that being “I’m not the one you need to ask”.  I’ll remember that for the rest of my life and, depending on how things work out, will be inflicting it on the future suitor of my own offspring.  Thanks also for the wealth of knowledge you’ve assisted us with over the years. 

Fiona, again, thanks for supporting all of this as well and I can only apologise for adding even more people to your already chaotic Christmas and New Years’ celebrations.  You’re welcome to a lifetime of technical support.  I unfortunately can’t guarantee the quality of any advice I give.  I would like to remind you that while I’m a bachelor of computer science, I have been known to use myself as a volt meter.  Twice.  And thanks for rather a lot of emotional support. 

Alf, thanks for your support as well.  And not just for the wedding but for more household and mechanical repairs than I’m capable of bringing to mind.  I’m becoming convinced that you’re the only person I know, including myself, who’s capable of rehousing my headlights which is a terrible thing considering I’ve owned that car for two years.  Thanks for a lot of practical advice.  I’m profoundly sorry for anything that may happen as a result of me trying to fix any of the technology you own. 

My own mum and dad, Pam and Bob.  Parents, friends, occasional drinking buddies.  After I spent my young adult life immersed in the black pit that was my bedroom, I think we’re all a bit surprised to be here today.  Thanks for more things than I can fit into a speech of any reasonable length, but mostly for instilling in me enough life experience that I’ve somehow managed to survive for 28 years.  And dad, on a side note, whatever I may have said over the years, it’s an honour to be mistaken for you and a pleasure to resemble you. 

Does everyone have some kind of beverage? 

On the subject of family, I’d like to raise two toasts, if I may, to absent friends (–one–).  To those who weren’t able to make it today but most of all to those who are no longer with us.  Though I’m fairly sure that Eric and Judy in particular will be here in spirit.  I can’t imagine them turning down an opportunity to visit Lakeland Plastics.  We’re actually down here on my grandad’s birthday so if you’re of that kind of persuasion, have a pint of something for him.  I don’t know if he’d appreciate the beer but I think he’d appreciate the sentiment. 

Special thanks to those of you who haven’t had a particularly easy time of getting here for one reason or another, especially those of you who’ve had to come down on public transport.  Thanks too to the drivers.  I can say from experience that it’s quite a trek to get here.  And sincere, sincere thanks and possible sympathies to any designated drivers. 

Thanks to my best men.  To Danny for wasted days of tiny plastic men and video games and to Wayne for wasted days of beer and video games.  I wouldn’t trade any of that nonsense for the world.  You’ve both been really positive influences on both of our lives and have been directly responsible for some of the most memorable moments of the past few years.  And some of the blurrier ones.  Our past has contained dozens of adventures and I hope our future does too. 

Thanks to the staff of the Cragwood Hotel, to our photographers Lorraine and Derek and to our Toastmaster Michael for helping us to keep this show running.  Your support has been invaluable.  We don’t have a great deal of personal experience in getting married so it’s wonderful to have people around who really seem to know what they’re doing.  We’ve been in safe hands with you guys since the beginning and that’s been very reassuring. 

Finally, very much in your own time and assuming it will cause no physical discomfort, if we could all stand for a second, I’d like to propose two last toasts.  One thanks to our bridesmaids.  (–one–)  Although since I think, though I’m not certain, that that group includes Christopher then in this enlightened age maybe “Bridespersons” would be a better term.  And one more to Hanna, not for her boundless love, patience and compassion but for becoming, and I do mean this most sincerely, the best friend I could ever wish to have.  For keeping me going through the hard times, for helping me to maintain my ever-slender grip on my mental marbles and for being a friendly face at the end of my best and my worst days.  I love you and at this moment, certainly for many more moments to come, there’s genuinely no position in which I’d rather be. 

I’ll shut up now. 

Weight loss blog 3: The new batch

Aaand 97 kilos.  Consistent.  I like that.

Food's great.  I've been trying to mix up the diet a lot lately and so far I'm having some quite surprising success, but it is a little bit severe.  The meal plan is roughly as follows:

Breakfast - porridge on weekdays, eggs on weekends
Lunch - soup on weekdays.  I'm usually eating late enough on weekends that breakfast and lunch are pretty interchangeable
Snack - protein drink on weekdays, not a heck of a lot on weekends
Dinner - at home, something sensible.  Out and about... yeah, that's difficult

And water.  At least 4 beakers of the stuff during the day.  Like, if you're not almost peeing clear, you might want more water.

I found three major problems.  I've not completely overcome them, but:

• Mid afternoon slump - about 3 or 4 pm all energy just leaves me and I'll become ravenous.
• The protein shakes help.  They're fairly light compared to a bag of crisps and they're really a fairly potent pick me up.
• Dinner - not so bad if I'm at home in the evening, but out and about, healthy dinner options are a pain to find
• Honestly, I reckon your best bet for this is those premade sandwiches in supermarkets.  They're like 500 calories which isn't terrible and they're pretty filling
• Fruit - I'll eat it and I like some of it, but eating fresh fruit regularly really upsets my stomach.  Reduces the snack options a bit
• No clue here.  I tried snacking on fruit, just ended up sticky and gassy so now I avoid it

On average, I'm knocking back 1200 calories a day.  Except for one day on Friday/Saturday which is quite often a takeaway day.  It's not great, but eating unhealthy food every now and then is kind of therapeutic.  I mean, I've got a gut full of curry at the moment.  The important thing is to get things in moderation and try to avoid the really horrendous stuff.  I reckon that much less than 1200 is going to result in low loss though, certainly seemed to have a bad effect.

I mean, I never thought I'd lost more by eating more.  That was a pleasant discovery.

Vitamin pills are a big deal, I think.  I'm not eating so much now but I still want the body to respond to the exercise in a favourable way.  And they're not that expensive for quite a large supply.

Protein powder, though.  I've got into this through a guy from work.  "You'll notice a big difference" he says.  Considering that this guy has mentored another colleague into some quite substantial weight loss, I figured I'd see how it worked out.  Well, for one thing it keeps me going throughout the afternoon and gives me a fairly large overall sense of wellbeing.  For another, I really do seem to be having an easier time with dropping the weight on this stuff.  It seems a bit counter intuitive, I thought that stuff promoted growth and muscle gain and all that, but... well, I guess it does and maybe it's just making the exercise easier.

Huh.  There's a revelation.

I guess everything else is common sense, really.  Don't eat until you're stuffed, eat more veg, less saturated fat and stuff.  I'm trying to avoid bread, mostly because nutrition-wise it's not that valuable unless you need the fibre.  I can't say enough about those soups though.  Low in fat and calories and generally full of veg.  That's a really decent lunch for under 250 calories and they're super convenient.

Can't say there's anything interesting going on here, just "eat less, make sure the stuff you're eating is valuable and keep an eye on what's going into your body".

I think the most important thing I've realised though is that after a few weeks, junk food cravings are like anything else that's addictive, you either don't get the pangs as bad or you get better at ignoring them.  Turns out that bodies are pretty good at looking after themselves if you give them a chance.

Weight loss blog 2: Electric boogaloo

So 98 kilos this week.  It's mildly discouraging after the amount of effort I've put in, but I suppose 2 lbs is what's considered healthy, right?

Wall of text this week, but I like this topic.

So, exercise.  I've read that diet is more important to weight loss, but I personally find that depends on your point of view.  See, the way I see it, committing to a diet is a constant effort, you've got to stick with it all day and if you don't, it's not going to work as well.  No surprises there.  The great thing about the gym?  Once you're there, you're there.  I'm not going to turn around and leave, it's more trouble than it's worth to leave and go home when I've made the effort to come out.

A diet is an all day, every day expenditure of mental energy or as I like to refer to it, "arse", as in "cannot be arsed".  It requires a lot of arse.  By the end of the day, you might be burnt out and want to get a pizza.  The gym boils down to a single decision point, a 10 second period where I decide to turn left and go home or to go straight ahead.  This requires little to no arse.

The other great thing?  Diets usually leave me craving more of a bad thing.  Exercise doesn't do that.  The more I exercise, the more I want to keep exercising and while the first 4 sessions are usually the ones I have to bully myself into attending, from then on the general feeling of well being takes me.

If you're having trouble with motivation, I also like to take advantage of my own mental shortcomings.  I'm a bloody terrible creature of habit, if I make plans and can't commit to them, I get irritable for hours.  It struck me after a while that by making the gym a regular thing, by making my mind think of it as "that thing you do after work", it suddenly became something that, rather like dropping a box of toothpicks in front of the rain man, I felt compelled to do and actually got a little put out if I missed.  I find ways to compensate if I miss a session now.

The gym isn't the be all and end all, though.  Really need to stress that.  While I think that the gym is really important, there are other perfectly reasonable alternatives.  I've quite taken a fancy to having a walk during my lunch break at work.  I get a good 3 miles in, I spend my lunch time actually getting fitter as opposed to eating and when I get back to work, I spend the next 45 minutes eating a casual lunch while I'm working so, tricking my mind again (which tends to become easily obsessed with statistics and numbers), I have a 1 hour 45 minute lunch break every day because my brain thinks that eating equates to lunch break, regardless of if I'm sipping on a boiling pot of soup while I'm coding.

So the gym itself.  You're going to need some supplies.  I won't go without the following:

• My kit (duh)
• A towel
• A water bottle
• Some source of loud music
• Decent shoes

Not too much, really.  But, let's step through these:

Kit - goes without saying.  I prefer shorts to tracky bottoms.  Plus, the horror of my milk-white legs and hypnotically jiggling backside gets me some elbow room on the machines.

Towel - Jesus Christ.  I've tried going to the gym without one a few times (I don't always remember it) and it's a miserable experience.  Not only is it gross for the guy that has to use the machine after you and pretty unsanitary too, there's no substitute.  I've tried paper towels, yesterday's work shirt or just my gym shirt, nothing else cuts it.  Hell, even if you've fallen behind on the laundry and have to use a floral tea towel.

Water - I can't drink when I'm working out because I cannot circular breathe and I would drown.  Some people can run and drink, God knows how, but I need a good gutful of water after 15-20 minutes otherwise, just to be graphic for a moment, my sinuses start backing up and I get a throat full of mucus.  But you've got sweat to replace, so there's that too.  I prefer to bring a bottle than to use the drinking fountain, it just seems... more sanitary and convenient, y'know?

Music - here's a controversial one.  I've read that some people swear by it, some think it throws you off your pace.  I hate working out without it, if only because it blocks out the trendy music on the tannoy and the constant "HNNNRGGHHH" from the weight area.  Getting a dedicated, up-tempo gym playlist really helps me a lot.  Get some songs for picking you up when you're completely tapped out, songs for that endurance section in the middle, whatever you need.  And the less you're aware of your own heavy breathing, the less you feel like a sexual predator!*

*Unless you're into that.  In which case, I'm going to need you to stay the hell away from my gym.

Shoes - I like the pair I got from Up and Running.  They're damned expensive but they're real durable and they check out your running style to see if you need anything to correct your gait.  I run on the insides of my feet, so now my shoes have raised insteps.  Helps me a lot.  If you don't want to commit to expenive running shoes, grab a beaten up pair of trainers.  If they're comfortable, you're on to a winner.


Then the routine.  For the first 7 weeks, I did nothing but cardio and tried to go for distance rather than intensity.  Start at 15 minutes on whatever machine you like, add a minute more every time you feel like you're not being challenged.  Thing is, it's a nice start, not too high intensity and I found it pretty good for beefing up my lung capacity which is totally a big deal.

I like a treadmill-cross trainer-stationary bike combination myself.  Get the intense stuff out of the way first then cool down.  I realise I'd benefit from a rower session too, but it plays merry hell with my back.

People will say that you should work some weight training in.  You totally can, it'll help, but I dropped a stone this year without lifting a gram so if you want to stick to the cardio for a bit, I reckon there's no harm done.  Besides, the pain you get after a session of weights can be a little hard to deal with at first, especially if you're stiff from cardio already.

I'm now trying a regime of interval training on the treadmill, high intensity on the cross trainer and then stationary bike if there's time follow by a bit of weight training.  They do say that you burn off more calories while idle with muscle.  Helps to get a bit more protein in your diet if you're going to bulk up and it does play a bit of havoc with your weight, but there are definite benefits.


I guess the last bit is the people.  You get a handful of stereotypes in the gym, some good and some bad.  The way I see it:

• Regulars - the people who actually want to get fitter and sweat a bit.  You'll know them when you see them.  They're not always overweight, they sure can be, but they tend to look serious and tend to be wearing sensible clothes. They're more than happy to stay out of your way and they're never a problem.
• Gym bunny - men and women, I tend to find it's mostly women.  The people who come in revealing designer outfits, wear designer fragrances and in the worst cases, actually have full makeup or carefully done up hair.  They're usually in with the early evening crowd and they almost always travel in packs.  I can only assume that they're in the gym to attempt to mate with others of their kind 'cause they never seem to so much as break a sweat.  Thankfully they're not too much of a problem, they rarely commit to one activity for more than 5 minutes at a time.
• The hulk - pretty much exclusively men.  Female specimens exist, and hot DAMN they're terrifying.  On their own, they're just fine.  They'll jump on a weight training machine or the free weights, do their thing and be on their way.  In groups of 3 or more, they can tie a machine up for half an hour or more as they take turns to yell at each other and do reps.  With the relative lack of weight machines but excellent variety thereof in most gyms, it's a waiting game, really.
• Socialites - if you're going to use the gym to go for a half hour walk and have a really good chat with your friends... y'know, it'd totally be cheaper to just start a walking group.  See some of the countryside or whatever.  I've nothing against training with friends, but when you've been in a cooldown phase for more than 5 minutes, I've got to question the rationale.
• That one guy who keeps dropping something really heavy in the weights area - because seriously, what the hell man?  We can hear that in the changing room and I fear that one day you may finally break through the floor and into the core of the earth.

But really, so long as you get consistent exercise, it works wonders.  I feel like a new man.  Something that challenges you with every session (and I mean really challenges you, push your limits but don't exceed them) speeds up the process immensely, but little and often's great too.

The Babel orifice

Again, another of those things that spawned from a peculiar dream. It was about wings, cultists and killing people. And lights, I think.
---
Time are changing, the population is growing. While we're getting by these days, the future may tell a different story.
In the early months of 2059, a worldwide initiative began. In order to make more room for housing, areas of beauty and historic interest would be remodelled into cheap apartment blocks. The original articles would be recreated using the latest virtual reality technology, allowing the world to experience them in the utmost comfort and convenience.
One of the last areas to be destroyed was Barden tower, North Yorkshire. A simple enough job, just run a wrecking ball through the base and watch as the upper half of the tower slid out of sight...
Wait, what?
Experts travelled from around the globe to witness and study this apparently natural phenomenon; a hole in reality, about 200 feet across hung in the sky supported by nothing. It didn't even appear to be doing anything interesting. No unspeakable horrors burst forth from it, nothing fell out, it was just a hole. Early scouting operations revealed that it lead to a curious land, a place where the sky was a perpetual, unbroken blue and the ground consisted entirely of what appeared to be discarded plastic, metal and rubber waste, spotlessly clean but damaged and bent beyond all use or recognition.
A few things happened. As word got out, the army were the first to take action, deciding to conquer this new land in the name of the crown. They set up small base camps, small strategic areas were fortified, others were destroyed. This achieved next to nothing. The army withdrew a few months after their initial occupation, leaving the site free for all manner of oddness to enter it.
The first civilians were the adventurers. People leading expeditions, trying to discover anything of interest. The regular explorers soon realised that it was rubbish all the way across. A neverending landscape of waste roughly three quarters the size of our Earth but lacking any water. Digging machines were deployed, most by wealthy oil tycoons attempting to cash in on an untapped landscpae. This revealed, several broken machines later, that it was garbage all the way down, too, but some of the metals were composed of an alloy unlike anything known to us. It could be bent slightly but seemed completely resistant to any attempts to pierce or otherwise damage it.
Second to enter was the media. For a few weeks, the news was filled with helicopter footage live from what had been dubbed "the Babel orifice". This lead to the occasional dogfight between rival sky-bound news reporters, but casualties remained minimal.
Soon after came the free spirits, thinkers and outcasts. Some were using this hole as final proof of the existence of God (or gods) almighty and would argue long into the night. Some saw it as the universe extending us a warm greeting, welcoming us to a new plane of existence, believing it to be a utopia, free from air pollution and commerce. Many believed the hole to be a god in itself and formed a number of cults.
Science, however, stood in the background. It observed all the little people flitting around the hole and it waited. Waited for them to lose interest. Science constructed a rocket. It would discover the source of this madness once and for all.
As the mighty space rocket Chronicle was rolled up to the launch structure, the assorted men, women and crazies looked on in interest. Men in severe white suits with clipboards who weren't even interested about what was in there, they were just building barricades and erecting a missile of some sort, all in complete, eerily professional silence. The rocket was built, the call went out to our world's fittest and bravest individuals and fully trained, suited and booted, they took their supplies and boarded the Chronicle, bidding a tearful farewell to their families. A flash of fire, a rush of smoke and the rocket took off, leaving a plume of smoke in its wake through the endless cerulean skies.
Up it went. Instruments and crystal clear broadcasting equipment from the rocket told the world how far they went.
10km
30km
65km (jettison the primary fuel tank
70km (the primary fuel tank fell to Earth with a thud, taking out the launching apparatus)
90km
The world looked on in awe. Another minute was all they had before they ran out of fuel and had to eject, but the sky showed no signs of ever ending. Onward they flew, ever upward, ever towards shining blue oblivion.
And then it vanished.

The rocket stood, suspended by some unseen force but still trying to spend its fuel payload. This ran out and was ejected, but the rocket rmained suspended gaining no further altitude. Instruments indicated an atmosphere was still somehow present, so cautiously they opened the airlock and peered out. Peered out at two large towers exerting some kind of invible force, holding them steady. In the near distance, a small city and below them a crowd of humans. A man broke off from the pack and addressed them through a loudhailer.
"Well howdy! Took you long enough to find us, guys."
After a long discussion, the crew of the Chronicle learned what had happened. The Bermuda triangle and almost every area fabled for causing people to vanish were actually freaks of nature. Holes that opened up onto a parallel world. People had spilled through slowly but surely into an alternate world, almost identical to ours but lacking any civilisation. Since the only people to find this place were generally explorers, thrillseekers and people looking to debunk urban myths, the population was made up of, generally, brave and learned citizens, causing technology to advance at an alarming rate. This world had already cured cancer and developed an AIDS vaccine, but was unable to return home.
"It's the holes, y'see" said their leader as the rode the train towards the city. "They're like... kinda like valves, right? Stuff goes through 'em one way but it can't go back, so people fall into this world all the time but damned if we can open the doors again. We owe you pretty big for that."
"You do?"
"Yeah! We learned how to detect dormant holes a couple decades back. We've been building the force towers around each of them now hoping to trap and object in there to keep the portals active, if you see what we mean. Kinda like a vacuum cleaner salesman jammin' his foot in your front door."
Slowly, a tunnel was built. A huge tube that was expanded to increase the size of the hole then extended to the surface where the Babel orifice lay. The constant stream of media and military attention had been enough to hold our hole open for around 16 months, since its discovery, so coming back was no trouble.

Some years later, the reason for all the waste in the garbage dimension was discovered. A hole on the other side of the world from our portal opened periodically, spewed out some waste and closed within moments. An attempt at communication was made by firing a message capsule through (sending a manned craft was impossible, the hole opened barely wider than was reuired to unleash its heavy payload then closed again). After a week, they wrote back. This world was a celestial rubbish tip, the dumping ground of the gods (or some sufficiently advanced race, at least), and while they were interested to know that people were living on their tip, they had no wish to communicate with us further.
They did note, however, that we were very lucky to have chosen to live on their non-biodegradable waste site. Apparently the celestial compost heap unleashed an odour so powerful that its strength could be measured in newtons.

Let's add yet another weight loss blog post to the Internet!

I've always had problems with weight loss.  I had it cracked a while back, when I was working in a 4 man support team and got a lot of exercise walking from building to building.  Admittedly having a dirt cheap company gym helped.  I remember most of my struggles, though.

It probably started in middle school.  I went from being a skinny, sickly kid to a pretty vastly overweight one.  I think the worst of it was at around 16 when I hit 16 stone.  Health reasons aside, being the fat kid in high school isn't really great for your self esteem, but whatever.  I think I maintained this for a few years but I'm not sure, I've always had the ability to completely block out things that might distress me, so I guess I just didn't pay any attention to my weight until I was... 21?  Yeah.

The big day was coming and I was offered a sky diving experience by my mum who, until then, was sure I was afraid of heights.  This was based on a bad experience on a large slide in Nottingham.  In reality I didn't care at all, agreed to it and probably removed a good 5 year's from my mum's life for which I apologise.  She is morbidly afraid of heights.  Her and my dad burned through all the camera exposures before my chute even deployed.

But I digress.

One of the requirements was that I needed to be below 200lbs.  14 stone 4.  Don't ask me for kilos.  I spent a few months exercising, building up from 2 sessions a week to 3.  That seemed to do the trick, but I did have kind of a physical job which no doubt helped and I reached my goal with time to spare.  One of the best things I've ever done.

I put some weight back on during my last year of university (I think better when I eat.  Always have, it reduces my mental fatigue and improves my attention span).  I graduated, got my degree and settled into a nice, easy 3 months of unemployment.  I looked for jobs, attended interviews and played Team Fortress 2.  However, my dad transferred his gym membership over to me, so with nothing else to do with my day I'd spend a happy hour and a half every other day working out.  It was the most structured, organised fitness regime I've ever adhered to and motivation wasn't a problem, I was unemployed, apart from going for a 5 minute trip to the dole office I really had nothing better to do than mail out CVs.

I don't know how much I lost.  I reached 13 stone 10 (186lbs, I guess) and for the first time in my own memory I was starting to become happy with how I looked.  Sappy, ain't it?

I got a job, moved out and started to live alone.  Again, wonderful experience and I learned a lot, but I wasn't managing my meals well (I found out what 6 months of not eating fibre is like.  Protip: don't ever attempt this) and I was working overtime at a desk job.  I was under the impression that I didn't have time for the gym, seeing as I was working from 9 'til sometimes half 6.  I'd go home, cook, surf the Internet for 2 or 3 hours and sleep.  Not surprisingly, I gained about 2.5 stone up to 16'6.

So I guess that's where I was at the start of this year.  I dabbled with a gym after work but couldn't really commit.  I made too many excuses to not go, I think.  However, somehow I've managed to convince a wonderful woman to actually marry me and now the wedding plans are actually beginning so I think, like sky diving, I've got a decent goal in mind.  I need to be able to wear a suit without looking like some kind of bearded penguin.

Plus the palpitations at night were getting to be kind of a drag.

It's strange though, 7 weeks later and I'm still feeling good about slimming down.  It's not often that I can commit to a diet for this long and still feel good about it.  Much as I hate to admit it (I prefer to think I can do these things on willpower alone), a tangible goal does seem to have lit a very welcome fire under my arse.

Started this year at, I think, 105 kilos.  I've realised since that my scales do lbs and they do kilos, but the lbs are measures out wrong.  I'm now, 8 weeks into the year, down by 6 kilos.  Not fantastically fast loss but it doesn't need to be, just so long as it stays off.

I spent a bit of time today looking up weight loss inspiration and came to the conclusion that what other people use for inspiration is a bit too pink and fluffy for me.  I don't want to join a club that'll support me, I don't need to see pictures of artistically arranged aubergines (alliteration's awesome, aye?) and I really don't need motivational pictures assuring me that I can do it.  I can, yes.  Part of the problem is that I ususally, for whatever reason, resist that kind of encouragement.  I can motivate myself, but unless I'm feeling genuinely defeated, hearing other people trying to encourage me sometimes feels really patronising and I do realise that this is a terrible approach, especially when people are being genuinely supportive, but it's not a deliberate thing.

Although if people wanna tell me I look fabulous today then that's fine, because fabulous is a great word and we should all say it more often.

I'm keeping an eye on the scales every morning.  I know people say you shouldn't, but I like to make sure that I'm not slipping and I like to consider the day a success if I've at least maintained.

So a weight loss blog?  It's not original, that's for sure, but if I do somehow succeed then it'd be nice to look back some day, see how well I did, how I did it and such.  If it helps anyone else then sure, that's great.  And I mean that with no hint of sarcasm.  However, if I do lose weight, it's going to be for me and my partner, not for anybody else.  Unless I do some kind of sponsored slim.

No goals in particular.  Once I'm happy with how I look, I'll take it easier on the diet but keep up the exercise, I think.  Seems sensible.

I'll post sometime later, perhaps.  Fridays might be good.  Silly things, the exercise I'm doing, foods I'm eating, motivational stuff that I've got going on... y'know, that fluffy encouragement stuff that I've said I don't like.

I never said I wasn't a hypocrite.  Hopefully I can at least be a skinny hypocrite.