It is a rainy day here in Tokyo; it is also a Monday!
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It has been raining most of the day thus far, or rather, I think it has, but I can't be completely sure because I was asleep for most of the morning. I only arose a little after 13:00 from my hard yet comfortable bed. Now, before you think something disparaging like Jason is a lazy arsed fool, or something equally as accurate, let me inform you I'd stayed up late to watch the US Grand Prix. The time difference between here and Austin is something like 14 hours behind us, so the build-up to the race on Sunday afternoon there started at 04:00 Monday morning here. Therefore, I hope you'll understand my somewhat lackadaisical start to the day.
After a long awakening shower at exactly 43 degrees Celsius, I dressed and tottered off to the local supermarket for some supplies for the next day or so. I do rather like my Olympic supermarket, not only as it's less than a two-minute walk from my apartment building, but also for the range of products they carry in a space that's about half the size of a football pitch. Now, I shan't bore you with a list of my purchases, save to say I got enough for three days of dinners including snacks, but no chocolate or ice cream.
'Jason, without chocolate, what is the world coming to?' you may exclaim silently, which of course would be understandable; such is my love of the brown heaven-sent delight. But I'm being strict with myself: unless I do 8000 steps in a day, I do not partake of chocolate. Furthermore, I have to achieve 9000 steps before my willpower allows me a bowl of ice cream. I'm not being masochistic just for the sake of it; I do have a reason, which I feel is pretty valid. You see, I am, let's face it, overweight now, by rather a lot. I can't give you an accurate tally of the kilos, pounds, or stones my body currently has amassed, as I don't have scales here; however, in Australia, before my little plane and helicopter flights, I was weighed, and I came in at 103 kg. In old money, that's 16.21 stone, or a BMI of 36.9, which for a fella of 5ft5 (167cm) is more than just overweight; it puts me in the obese category. According to the NHS, a healthy weight with an average BMI for someone my age and sex should be somewhere between 51.6 kilograms and 69.7 kilograms!
So, yes, I'm being careful with what I put in my body, which is working, sort of. You see, if you think I'm a big fat bloater now, that's nothing to what I was around this time last year. I stopped jumping on scales after I broke my leg, as I wasn't able to do any exercise, and that was about twenty years back. Therefore, when I had to have a colonoscopy last year, I had no idea how much weight I was carrying, ok, that's not quite true; I knew I was a fat bloke, but exactly how much this extra blubber was, I had no clue. When the nurse sat me on a chair, that was actually the weighing scales, I guessed I was on the heavy side. I couldn't believe my ears when I asked her what my weight was; she seemed hesitant to tell me at first, but the pleading look in my eyes must have got to her. "138 kilos," she uttered softly. I'll save you from doing the maths; that is 21st 10lb. I let it wash over me at the time, yet after other doctor's appointments, it dawned on me that 'little old me' was anything but little! I wasn't just a porker; I wasn't just a bit overweight; I was gargantuanly fat, and more so, I was morbidly obese. They don't like to use that term anymore; it's something like obese level III, although to me it doesn't matter what term you use; it's way, way too bloody big and I don't want to get that way again, and rationing chocolate and fat intake is one way I can help prevent it.
So, yes, I'm being careful with what I put in my body, which is working, sort of. You see, if you think I'm a big fat bloater now, that's nothing to what I was around this time last year. I stopped jumping on scales after I broke my leg, as I wasn't able to do any exercise, and that was about twenty years back. Therefore, when I had to have a colonoscopy last year, I had no idea how much weight I was carrying, ok, that's not quite true; I knew I was a fat bloke, but exactly how much this extra blubber was, I had no clue. When the nurse sat me on a chair, that was actually the weighing scales, I guessed I was on the heavy side. I couldn't believe my ears when I asked her what my weight was; she seemed hesitant to tell me at first, but the pleading look in my eyes must have got to her. "138 kilos," she uttered softly. I'll save you from doing the maths; that is 21st 10lb. I let it wash over me at the time, yet after other doctor's appointments, it dawned on me that 'little old me' was anything but little! I wasn't just a porker; I wasn't just a bit overweight; I was gargantuanly fat, and more so, I was morbidly obese. They don't like to use that term anymore; it's something like obese level III, although to me it doesn't matter what term you use; it's way, way too bloody big and I don't want to get that way again, and rationing chocolate and fat intake is one way I can help prevent it.
Therefore, the long and short of it is that as I've done little over 840 steps thus far today, no chocolate is passing my lips!
Going back to my reason for a late start to the day, it was an interesting race, not major excitement, thrills and spills with crashes galore, but fast and enjoyable. Plus, it was so good to see Charlie pretty boy LeClerc up on the podium behind wonderkid Kimi Antonelli and in front of Max Verstappen. Kimi looks like he's going to be World Champion after the next race in Mexico, which would make him the youngest ever driver to claim the title.
Salad for dinner, yum.
Calculate your own BMI here.
Further reading on definitions and diagnostic criteria here.
