With the new year comes a new effort to sort my fitness out. 2008 was a funny old year on the exercise front. Changing just about every aspect of my life, including a move to London and getting rid of my car (yes, never having to turn down an offer for a beer), took its toll on my waistline. Despite losing four or five pounds in October/November, it all went back on in December - with interest.

Getting back on the scales on Friday, I topped out at 13 stone 8 pounds. That’s almost as heavy as I was before I started training for the Kilimanjaro trek in 2005 (when I went up to 36″ jeans - the tipping point for doing something about my weight/fitness). Yes, I’ve become that belly from the old Reebok ad.

So the weekend was the start of a (hopefully) genuinely concerted effort to get back on track. Saturday was a four mile run, Sunday was outdoor circuits and last night was gym day.

Going to the gym on what could be the busiest day of the year is not necessarily a good move, but the decision to walk past the LA Shitness across the road to the next nearest branch was a wise one. My desk mate said he went to the London Wall branch yesterday (possibly the least enticing, grubbiest gym with the dumbest staff I’ve ever been to) and there were banks of five people hanging around machines waiting to get on. By contrast the other one might have been busy, but I didn’t have to wait for anything (and it’s a lot more pleasant). I even managed to get the sauna to myself.

Maybe I’ll head back tonight. After all, it’s only 82 days before The Reading Half Marathon.

Image by Ben Scicluna via FlickrI’ve been spending Christmas at my folks again this year, which, as usual, means being fed up like a pre-Christmas turkey. Luckily where my parents live, on the outskirts of Hastings, is one of my favourite places in the country for running, so it’s ideal for a bit of calorie off-setting.

Running at Christmas is a bit like the completion of another full circle. I feel that my run over the Fire Hills (hills and everything, part 1 and part 2) was the beginning of my life as a runner plodder. I’m nowhere near as fit I was last year, so decided to do my “regular” short circuit, which is four and a bit miles of running across fields, over stiles, up and down hills and out towards the cliffs, before heading back.

On Christmas Day I felt pretty rough around the edges (actually there aren’t any edges at the moment, just rounded bits) and the last two weeks of Christmas socialising with work and friends was catching up. Still, by the end of run – boosted by Power Tracks – I felt pretty good and came in at 41.53. All that remained for the rest of the day was a walk of the dog on the beach, vast calorie consumption and Wallace & Gromit (surely about as close as you can get to perfect Christmas TV).

On Boxing Day I decided to do the same run again to see if I felt any better. It was a brighter, crisper morning and was out of the gates feeling fitter and stronger – it’s amazing how a bit of sun makes you feel better. I came in at 40.10, knocking almost two minutes off my time. Another walk of the dog (Boxing Day can be a bit like Groundhog Day) and a slightly less calorific day eating meant I could attack my old man’s port with guilt-free gusto.

It seems that the Reading Half Marathon is the must-run event of 2009. Or, at least that’s the feeling I’m getting reading the excellent Jog-Blog, where Cathy has posted a low down on the race, including the start of her training schedule. She has a (familiar) habit of drinking a bottle of wine the night before a race, but I’ve got a feeling she won’t be this time around.

In today’s Guardian, Patrick Barkham goes jogging with Paula Radcliffe to pick up some training tips and find out what makes the great runner tick. She talks about how coming second at a cross country race aged 8 gave her the competitive spirit that she shows today and why she paints her toenails. I wonder what she’d make of me coming last at the triathlon last year?

‘Running is more like an addiction than a job, Radcliffe cheerfully admits while we swerve past the duckpond. She does not feel she has to run every day - just seven days out of eight. And after a marathon, she takes two weeks off. “The first week I’m all right, I’m having a lie-in in the morning, doing different things and recovering from the race.” By the second week, she’s · getting twitchy. “You suddenly realise that running is your stress release,” she says. “In the second week I’m dying to go for a run.”‘

Hmmm “running is more like an addiction than a job”. It’s clear what separates the likes of Paul Radcliffe than the rest of us (well me anyway): determination and self discipline. Well, what with various Christmas festivities, tonight and Thursday are my only exercise ops this week: it’s a good job I remembered my gym card.

I did spinning yesterday at LA Shitness to offset my lunchtime consumption of two glasses of wine, anti pasti, steak, salad-with-salty-oily-dressing, potatoes and cheesecake at Jamie Oliver’s 15 (yes, I’m a PR darling sometimes).

I’m not sure what the calorie differential is on that day? Probably, like carbon off-setting by planting trees in Africa does next to nothing to counter driving 20,000 miles a year and flying for two foreign holidays, I reckon that 45 minutes spinning and a bit of stretching afterwards probably just covers the cheesecake and wine. Ah well.

With that in mind, I jumped on the scales when I got home and - not surprisingly in the least - I’ve put weight back on and am now 13 stone 6 llb.

Pants. Big ones.

It’s not surprsing, considering how many times I’ve already been out for work in the last few weeks for Christmas drinks and meals out. And I’ve got three more to go. Best get those running shoes back on….

On Sunday, I took part in what was potentially the best event of the year for me: the Grim 8. Consisting of an 8 mile (ish) run around the countryside, featuring bogs, puddles and ducking under camoflage netting. The previous best event so far this year has been, by far, the Commando Challenge, so the Grim 8 had a lot to live up to.

When it came to getting up and going on the day, however, I was less keen. I’d been out with friends the night before and had had a few, so was nursing a soft hangover and was still quite tired. And is was absolutely frozen outside.

On arriving at the event start, located between Aldershot and Fleet, it hadn’t warmed up much. The ground was still frozen and children were throwing rocks on the water, which just bounced on the ice. Due to an accident near the race, it ended up starting late, but it didn’t matter too much: a ‘band’ of bin-drummers kept the crowd warm and we waited till the last possible moment before we dumped our bags and jumpers.

The race itself was fantastic fun. J and I avoided the water until mile 4 - like most runners, apart from the hardened nutters, we skirted around the edge at first - when we had to wade thigh high through icy ‘puddles’ and sticky, smelly bogs. Even the bottles of water we were given half way in had ice in them. But it didn’t dampen the atmosphere. Although it was cold, it was, at least, sunny and I have to say it was the friendliest event I’ve competed in in some time.

The event finished with a way through a 20 metre long pond, but it only turned out to by knee high and with the end (and a hot dog) in sight, it didn’t seem to matter. I’ve no idea what time we completed the race in - roughly an hour and a half - but I didn’t care.

As to whether it was the best event of the year? I think, on balance, the Commando Challenge nicked it. It was better organised and had the added bonus of crawling through tunnels. But I’ll definitely be putting the Grim 8 on my Septathlon to-do list for 2009.

We’re in to December and the Christmas parties have begun. My first one was last night at the Swiss Re tower, aka the Gherkin, in the City. I’ve been a fan of the Gherkin for ages - it’s such a cool building - so snapped up the chance to go along to a client do, which I do very little on.

It was held on the top floor giving a 360 degree lit up view of the whole of London. As a colleague said to me, it was like being in a James Bond villain’s lair.

Of course, it meant not getting any exercise in (although I did manage DIY circuits with J on Sunday), instead being an evening of flowing champagne, wine and cognac tasting. No chance of getting fat by eating though - the food consisted of tiny canapés, which weren’t just small, were frustratingly few and far between.

I’ve got another three or four evening dos and a smattering of lunches in the next month. All very good fun, but hardly great training.

13 stone 3llb. Two more pounds than the last time I weighed myself (the Lille effect, no doubt). I feel myself sounding a bit Bridget Jones. Thankfully, at least, I haven’t started counting points like those Weight Watchers ladies of a certain age.

The good news is that I notched up two more runs this weekend – one in Hastings and one around Hampstead Heath. My food record was a bit better this weekend, although I have rather spoiled it but breaking in to the Green & Blacks (milk chocolate) this evening. Well, flavanoid-rich chocolate is supposed to improve endothelial function and increase plasma epicatechin concentrations – which sounds like it means it does you some good.

I’ve just got back from a long weekend in Lille and you’d be forgiven for forgetting that I started a thread a little while ago entitled “it’s not a diet, honest”. Lille was selected due to its foody reputation. The running shoes were left at home.

I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in the course of a weekend (still, Lille is fantastic if you like eating out). It’s a bit embarrassing, but perhaps putting it down on (virtual) paper will act as an incentive for me to burn it off.

Saturday

Breakfast - muffin and coffee on the train (be quick if you want to beat the queue at the Eurostar terminal)

Lunch - Cheese and ham baguette, can of ice tea

Afternoon snackage - chocolate waffle; pint of Leffe a bit later

Dinner - fois gras with poached egg starter; best steak I’ve had in years with vegetables (not many; it’s France remember), bottle of wine each, skipped pudding (aren’t we good?)

Sunday

Breakfast - Almond croissant, coffee

Lunch - Goats cheese tartine, hot chocolate

Dinner - Pate starter, duck with walnuts, pear and lavendar, pommes frites, half a bottle of wine (going easy tonight)

Monday

Breakfast - French pastrie (can’t remember its name), coffee

Lunch - Mussels with pommes frites, half a litre of beer

Afternoon snackage - Raspberry tarte, hot chocolate

Teatime - Home, so cheese sandwich, lots of cups of tea after missing it for the weekend

So, all in all, a fairly calorie heavy weekend. What am I doing typing this, when I should be out there doing a Rocky and running up and down the steps outside the office?

Last night, I’d fully intended to go spinning, but realised as I was about to leave the office that my card was at home. Pants.

But, I’ve bought these swanky new New Balance trainers and they haven’t seen much action yet, so I headed out to take in a short three or four miler (it was raining), memorising a new route. Only I forgot to turn right at Cricklewood and ended up at Brent Cross, a four miler turning into six. Running around the outside of a shopping centre taking in the sights of John Lewis, Toys R Us and Cineworld doesn’t really match up to Hampstead Heath. Ah well, a change is as good as a rest.

I did a quick weigh-in this morning sans breakfast in my stomach and came out at 13 stone 1 llb. That’s not too bad, given that I’ve not exactly been chained to the gym; at least it’s an awful better than I was post-Italy when I came in at a whopping 13 stone 9 llb.