No, not the fitness blitz that Neil and I started. This is an entirely different regimen.
I realized last Friday night that I am completely and utterly ill prepared for a trip to the UK.
I have completely and utterly lost any and all ability to hold my liquor.
I thought the Cinco de Mayo tequila bender was an isolated affair.
But then this past New Year’s Eve, half a bottle of wine and 2 glasses of champagne had me tossing my caviar mere moments into 2007.
And then on Friday night, 3 pints of beer (which would be nothing less than a year ago: witness – the amount of soju and beer consumed in Korea without repercussion) knocked me so flat on my arse that despite the 3 attempts it took to expunge the ale-soaked poutine from my body, I still had to “sleep” sitting-up on the couch, because the damn room refused to stop spinning. And I didn’t start feeling any sort of normal until well after noon the next day.
Considering I’m about to be let loose in a country with nearly as many pubs as people, this most certainly Will. Not. Do.
So I have put myself on a strict training regimen.
Starting tonight, I will drink beer, EVERY NIGHT, in increasing amounts until we leave. I have 8 days to get myself back into respectable drinking shape and avoid completely embarrassing myself on one of the UK’s omnipresent public cameras.
Combined with this, I’ll actually attempt to continue to get up and exercise each morning; the better to get used to hauling my sorry arse out of bed and doing something, even (and especially!) when I feel like doing anything but, and also to ensure that I still fit into my jeans (beer has serious calories!) when we leave.
And now, considering what very well may be the biological implications of such an endeavor, I am finally glad we have the awful rental apartment carpets that we do. I’d hate to do that kind of damage to our new hardwood.