Yeah, that, that hasn’t been happening.

Yes, weight loss and fitness.  I can remember that once, in the far off and distant past, they were important parts of my life.  Now there is only summer holidays, the Olympics and moving house.  

 

Oh good god, moving house.  Lets not think of it and move our attention back to the utterly engrossing, fantastic, inspiring Olympics.  The house we are moving to (la, la, la, fingers in ears, can’t hear you say that I should be packing instead of typing, la, la, la) has a bigger garden than ours.  Considerably.  That combined with the fact that Girl 1 is obsessed with Mo Farah and Usain Bolt (not unreasonably) means that we have had a mini Olympics every time we go round.  

We do all the sports.  Sprinting, distance running, steeplechase, relay, long jump, dressage, synchronised swimming (what do our new neighbours think of us?), etc.  And after an epic session yesterday I woke up this morning to genuine exercise induced muscle ache.

Right, time for some weight lifting.  Or, as it might be better recognised, packing.

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