If my body is a temple ...

... then I'm an atheist.

I thought this up yesterday as I limped home from the gym after what I can still describe as a work-out but with a small, but nevertheless present, side order of pain.

Heading home, pressing gingerly on the gas pedal because it hurt to do so I just started thinking about the crap I make myself put up with.

These are a couple of cases in point ...

1. As you know from my previous blog I managed to injure myself in the most bizarre, inane and frustrating way possible last Sunday. It hurts to step off my right foot (which doesn't help considering I have to walk to the station and then walk to the office once I get off the train, though I am taking the bus at the moment). So in all the wisdom bestowed upon my increasingly balding head (it doesn't show that much but it is happening) on Monday I rocked up to work and still played the 5-a-side football game. I have no idea whether I did myself any further damage but I'm guessing I probably did. The adrenaline got me through the game without major incidents, but again, not the brightest idea. Similarly, yesterday's 45 minute spinning ride may not have been the result of divine inspiration. Granted it hurt a hell of a lot less than walking, but it still hurt (though I must admit this morning it did feel a bit better). So the jury's still out on the cycling (knowing me I'll be doing more of it until I can get back to running), but footy was definitely not my brightest moment.

2. I met my wife and a friend of ours for lunch yesterday. Now as a budding athlete and with a workout planned for the evening you would have thought that common sense dictated I would fuel up appropriately and NOT eat the burger and chips that I did end up eating (in fairness it was top notch meat at gourmet burger kitchen - but that's not the point). I complain about not losing enough weight from the training and I go and have a burger for lunch ... wth is that? (Compare that to today where I had a grilled chicken wholemeal baguette for lunch and you can easily see the difference). I don't feel sluggish now, yet I was bloated and tired and generally narked when I hit the gym yesterday evening.

A football coach here in the UK (when commenting about the stupidity of professional football players getting drunk the nights after games) was quoted saying "You don't stick diesel in a ferrari". While I don't profess to be a ferrari a similar analogy could and should apply. If you want your engine to run smoothly and get as many miles to the gallon as possible you don't chuck junky, cheap and dirty fuel at your car (metaphorically of course ... for those who are novel to the car refuelling process, this is NOT the correct procedure).

So things have to change ... I'm not going to turn over a new leaf and start afresh eating completely healthy, that would be an unrealistic goal for me (the caveman in me still screams loud and clear "YOU MAN, YOU MUST EAT MEAT" ... and I do enjoy listening to him) ... but at least I'm going to watch what I eat (and by that I don't mean look at the ice cream and cakes while scoffing them down) and try and be sensible about things. A burger and chips is just not a good idea except maybe as a very occasional treat.