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The start of a new week and this week I'm absolutely sticking to the new diet.  Now I appreciate I also said this last week and possibly the week before but this week I mean it. I'm genuinely now getting worried my vest won't fit me in Amsterdam and I need to drop at least a stone, so no booze mid week and sensible eating. It also helps that all the birthday Toblerone have now been eaten.

So a standard and boring day at work, followed by no gym as always and an evening drinking coffee and not having a glass of wine.

I'm trying to avoid going back on the mushroom diet due to the fact it was incredibly boring. This time it's all about Greek yoghurt. Now I have no idea whatsoever if this is a good diet food as if you haven't gathered by now I know nothing about nutrition, I usually sustain myself on haribo, chocolate and cheese.

But, we are now into the Greek diet, so it's yogurt for breakfast with a bit of honey, some chia seeds and flax seeds. Lunch is whatever I fancy as long as it's not a large Toblerone and tea is sometimes 'proper' food but sometimes Greek yoghurt if I've eaten too much lunch and still feel full. But I jazz up the yoghurt in the evening with some fresh fruit and that makes it so much more exciting.

I've booked in way too many appointments today, I'm such a twat.

My back feels better, not perfect but better and my quad and hip seem to be okay. I'm not running today so they get a day's rest from running but instead I'm on my feet all day working which is pretty uncomfortable. Lots of foam rolling between appointments.

And today marks my 1 week 50th birthday anniversary, its an important day for us 50 somethings. So what life lessons can I impart on you all now I've reached the halfway point in my life, that's right I plan to make it to 100.  Well quite frankly I don't have a lot to offer, but what I'd say is do things that make you and those around you happy.  Surround yourself with people that make you laugh, don't take life or anything too seriously, have a drink, have a dance, life's too short to not get up and dance like a twat to Baggy Trousers so just do it, keep fit, keep active, let other people do what they want to do and take the piss out of everything and everyone.

Especially Ben.

Boring day working and it's now midweek, which means usually is have a glass of wine.

I don't have a glass of wine.

It's Friday, it's wine day.

I sometimes leave myself little note reminders of what to write in my blog if I'm not doing it immediately, today's was 'Tracey Chapman Wine'.

I drank a lot of wine on Friday and I have no idea why I wrote that.

So today was work, work, work, that was interspersed with some Greek yoghurt and lunch and Tracey Chapman seems to have featured somewhere but I can't remember where.

Then it's finish work and have a bath, you may recall from previous blogs I'm a bath lover and I'm a bath bomb lover. Not your cheap ass ones from Home Bargains, I'm talking Lush Bath bombs that cost at least a fiver. And as good fortune would have it I got a lot for my birthday so tonight is a bath with a glass of wine, a face mask I found in the bottom of a drawer and an ET bath bomb that turns the water a glittery silver colour and makes your skin all glittery when you come out.

Tracey Chapman was not in my bath.

The rest of Friday was spent drinking red wine, watching some shite telly, watching a brilliant live performance from Bill Withers from the 70's and then I did something with Tracey Chapman apparently.

I may have also agreed to run to Blyth parkrun in the morning, that was a foolish idea.

I blame Tracey Chapman.

I've also been trying to work out what the photo of me wearing a face mask was reminding me of and then I realised it's the Traffic Warden from the BBC film Threads about the aftermath of a nuclear war, I was hoping it was something a bit more glamorous.  Give it a google if you're young and have no idea what I'm talking about.

Bloody kids.

I wasn't sensible.

I was the opposite of sensible.

Unsensible.

I drank and danced all night.

They played Baggy Trousers.

I'm way more hungover than yesterday.

So very, very hungover.

I feel so ill but force myself to go out.

Gail looks at me like I'm insane.

I drink a cup of black coffee and then I'm off.

Walk halfway down the street to get a feel for if I can actually run and then start to jog. My brain bounces up and down in my skull and hurts and I don't feel good, my eyes hurt so much. Why do my eyes hurt so much when I'm hungover, is this an old man thing? I don't like it but I put the sunglasses on and that helps.

Onto the seafront and running past Spanish City and I'm not feeling any better. Yesterday after a mile or so I started to perk up. Today is a very different experience. I get to Cullercoats and it's so busy with people, I start to feel really sick and think I might throw up. There are people everywhere, there is nowhere to go and be sick, I feel the sick in my throat. I swallow the sick, I keep on running.

Why am I still running? Why don't I just stop and walk home? I'm heading to Tynemouth, I still need to get all the way home. I get to the bottom of the hill to the Gibraltar Rock, I can't face going up it so turn left and follow the headland. I stop and lean over the railing and take some deep breaths, I plan to be sick here over the cliffs.

After a couple of minutes I feel a little better, I turn and head back. I get to Cullercoats and realise I am so hungry I need food and I need sugar. I stop and buy a bag of crisps and eat a few and then keep running to Whitley. The planned 10-12 miles is of course not happening and instead I do the usual and head into co-op and buy a coke and a pack of skittles and sit on the wall outside and eat them, drink the coke and finish the crisps.

I get up to walk home and leave a great big, sweaty arse print on the wall. Get home and sit outside in the sunshine for an hour drinking coffee and all feels much better in the world.

I finish the evening with a glass of wine and then bed.

8 weeks to go and I haven't yet ran further than 10 miles without stopping. I've also got the GNR in 2 weeks and am not ready for that, let alone running double that distance.

Where's that bottle of wine? 

And where's Tracey Chapman? 

I'm injured, I'm depressed, I'm unfit, I'm overweight.

Will I make the start line or will it all end in tears?

AMSTERDAM - RED LIGHT SPELLS DANGER