Selfie-Evolution

I was somewhat dismayed to read that 'Selfie' has been made Word of 2013 by the wonks at Oxford Dictionaries. Quite apart from the fact that people have been snapping poorly taken photographs of themselves ever since Kodak was first marketed in the late 19th century, surely #YearOfTheDiet has been the most important new addition to the English language over the last 12 months? Well, maybe not!

But just to prove my point, below is a selfie that a younger me took during the summer of 1992, a few days short of my 12th birthday. What information can we glean from this Bailey-esque image? Well, firstly it goes without saying I wasn't the prettiest kid in my class. Double chin and unkept hair were never a good look, nor indeed is the stupid face I've pulled for the camera. The other thing that can be established from this photo is that in my earlier years, I supported The Reds.

I was a hit with the girls. Not!

Like a huge number of children of my age, I was a glory-hunting supporter of Liverpool FC. Before my sadomasochistic tendencies came to the fore and I followed Slough Town through the depths of the non-league, I was a long-distance Kopite. Using money from my 11th birthday, I bought my first ever football jersey, the Liverpool home shirt in distinctive red with white Adidas stripes over the right shoulder. You tend not to see too many of these replicas these days, given they marked the start of the ill-fated Souness era. For some reason though, despite outgrowing the shirt within a couple of years and switching allegiance to my local club, I retained the shirt for nostalgia.

Having spent years gathering dust, I recently found myself reacquainted with that shirt. I did think about flogging it on ebay just as I did with a programme and ticket stub from my one and only Anfield visit (Liverpool lost 1-0 to Norwich, last game before the Kop was redeveloped), but couldn't see there was much demand for a 22 year old well worn replica shirt.

Instead, and for my own personal amusement, I though I would try the shirt on. Now bearing in mind I bought this as an 11 year old, wore it during after school football clubs at primary school and can be seen in the selfie above modelling it just shy of my 12th birthday, I didn't expect to get much more than my head to fit into it. On the contrary, my torso didn't need any help to squeeze in, as the next selfie below shows.

21 and a half years later, and I'm 11 years old again

Even factoring that I was a big child and probably bought a larger shirt than I needed for longevity, it seems crazy to me that I can comfortably wear something that I adorned in my pre-teenage days. When I boast about being in the best shape of my adult life, the claim probably holds true for most of my childhood too. Wonder how much longer before I start trading clothes with my 5 year old?

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Wednesday Weigh-In - 27 November

In the days before the internet and Football Manager, I used to be an avid reader. One of my favourite authors was Stephen King, which I blame mostly on my sister for renting the movie of IT from the Videobox when I was about 10 or 11. You may recall the particularly creepy clown called Pennywise who tormented children by informing them about balloons that "all float" - and if you don't here he is in his full glory

One of King's lesser known books, possibly because the film made of it paled in comparison with The Shining or Carrie, was Thinner. The lead character was an overweight gentleman called Billy Halleck, who kills a gypsy woman with his car, before acquiring a curse that causes him to lose weight. Uncontrollably. When trying to eat more to compensate for the weightloss, it only helped to speed up the process.

I'm starting to wonder if I've knocked down a gypsy woman and had a similar curse bestowed upon me. After a weekend which was firmly in the feast category rather than famine, I expected to have gained a pound or two. Instead, I've lost a pound, taking me down to 14st 2lb.

Thinner!

I was speaking to an industry colleague last week who used to be a personal trainer in another life. He suggested that I have sped up my metabolism, through earlier weightloss and the uptake of aerobic exercise. This probably makes more sense in explaining the scales this week than putting it down to a hit and run incident with an old crone. I'm not going to take it for granted that I can eat what I want and get away with it, because that sort of thinking is what has caused my to regain weight after previous diets. But it is reassuring to think that the occasional blowout doesn't necessarily lead to weight gain.

So the scales today put me at 14st 2lbs. There are only 4 Wednesday weigh-ins remaining in 2013. Can I sneak under 14 stone by Christmas Day? We'll have to see. It wouldn't be a horror story if I don't, but would make for a happy ending to a year of hard graft.

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Still in the chase

In mid-October, my weekly ParkRun newsletter informed me of a competition they were running in conjunction with Lucozade Sport, one of their sponsors. #ChaseThePlace has a pretty simple premise; run or volunteer at 8 ParkRun events during a defined 8 week period and you will get your name thrown into the hat for a place in the London Marathon, competing in the Lucozade Sport team.

When I first read the email, I barely battered an eyelid. There are hundreds of these events taking place every Saturday morning, with thousands upon thousands participating. After the first weekend of #ChaseThePlace there were over 35,000 people in the competition. You don't have to be much of a betting guru to realise the odds are not exactly in your favour at this point, so I just nodded, not really paying this competition another thought.

After three weeks, the number of runners had drastically reduced, with just over 10,000 still in with a chance. And then a big carrot was dangled in front of me. To spice up the competition, the sponsors could pick a week to reward runners for recording a personal best, by giving a second entry to the final ballot assuming all 8 races were completed. Partly motivated by this, and with Week 4 selected by the Lucozade people, I smashed my PB, knocking a massive 44 seconds off the previous mark.

What a way to spend a Saturday morning - Photo by George Mardall

Week 5 came and went and now I'm told there are 5,747 ParkRunners still in the competition. Three more Saturday mornings to go and with the numbers likely to suffer a bit more attrition, the odds are starting to come a little more in my favour.

Should the unthinkable happen and I were to win the competition, it would be an interesting dilemma. I've never run beyond 10k, so to suddenly be elevated into a marathon would be challenging in the extreme. Would I be up to the task or be able to dedicate time in the early months of 2014 to get myself race ready? Who knows. The fact is before the start of July, the notion of me getting up on a Saturday morning was implausible. Now I look forward to pulling on the running gear throughout the week and bracing the cold autumnal temperatures that Saturday morning in Black Park offers. If offered the chance, it would be pretty rude not to accept.

Of course, while this competition provides me with a nice distraction, it is just a bit of fun. Turning up to run 8 successive weeks is a walk in the park compared to the commitment I've demonstrated to losing weight this year. I wouldn't be physically able to do this now, had I not put in the hard graft to shed the pounds and become more active.

#YearOfTheDiet has been a yearlong marathon. #ChaseThePlace would be the cherry on top.

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