The most depressing day of the year?

The first Monday of January is allegedly the most depressing day of the year. Christmas has gone, the weather is grim and there are months to go before the next bank holiday. Fortunately I didn't see things that way today. There is no denying what a difference a good sleep can do. Last night wasn't spectacular and it would be wholly inaccurate to say that I slept like a log, but in comparison to Saturday night when the little one had me awake for hours, it was positively paradise. Dieting is so much less difficult when you don't feel like death.

As expected, a day in the office proved far less perilous than a day at home. I stuck rigidly to my three meals a day without venturing towards snacks or exploring what badness the biscuit tin may have had to offer. Better still, I made it out for a run this evening. Well I say run. It started out that way, moon overhead offering some guidance for where the puddles lay in my path with the wind swirling all around me. About 1km in the rain made an appearance. About 2km in I could barely see such was the force of the rain being thrust at me horizontally, straight into my face courtesy of the gusty conditions.

Now I'm all for running in mixed weather, not least as I can't predict what I'll be faced with on 22 March when I roll up for my half marathon, but having found myself on the wrong end of a pretty awful shower on Friday, forcing me to don a pair of running shorts at work, much to the amusements of my colleagues, I was in two minds about whether to push on or turn back. Not wanting to find myself incapacitated a few days down the line by catching a chill, I opted to shorten my planned route and head home.

4 and half kilometres on a Monday night. Less distance that what I run on a Saturday morning. Hardly stepping up my training, and certainly a shorter run than I had in mind, but better than nothing. I could quite easily have spent this evening at my favourite curry house dining with a colleague who is set to retire next week, but that didn't exactly fit in with my plans to return to pre-Christmas weight and get myself into some sort of shape for what lies ahead in 74 days time.

This is not what I ordered - where is my tikka paneer?

So rather than find today depressing, I'm declaring a moral victory. A good day for the diet, a bad one for the owners of Karahi Express. More midweek running to follow, hopefully without the downpour.

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