I've been meaning to mention this ever since I started on my plan of going for 2 hour walks on a Monday, taking in the sights of Maidstone, On both of these walks, when I've got back, something has been noticeable by its absence.
I have touched on this subject before, most particularly (as far as I can remember) in my blog about Barcelona. I refer of course to the issue of 'piles'. And, as usual, I am not talking about the piles of fun I had while out on my walks in the rain. I am talking about what happens to my piles when I go for long walks...
Actually, I'm not sure I have mentioned this particular problem before so perhaps I'd better give you some background.
You will, I have no doubt, remember that my problem with piles began when I sat on a cold paving slab whilst at university in Liverpool. In fact, this is EXACTLY where it happened.
The first time I became aware of the problem which subsequently arose in connection to my piles was when I was walking down the road from my Halls of Residence in order to buy a Cumberland sausage for lunch on a Saturday. For some reason the Halls of Residence provided all of our meals except for lunch on a Saturday. Then we poor students were forced to fend for ourselves. My lunch of choice was, as I say, a Cumberland sausage from the local butchers.
On one walk, I noticed on the way back that my poor botty was uncomfortable.
'Those blooming piles!' I thought to myself.
But when I got home I discovered that my underpants and the crotch of my trousers were drenched (well, maybe not drenched) in blood. My piles had bled profusely.
And for the next twenty years this was a common problem when I went for a long(ish) walk. If not blood then some kind of unpleasantness. The most horrific was when I went for a walk while on holiday in Ireland. Blood dripping down my legs! Horrible! Horrible! Horrible!
I did say that you might not want to read this, didn't I? Especially if you are eating dinner. I'm sure I mentioned the whole 'not while eating dinner' thing.
But on my Maidstone walks, which are my most vigorous walking activities in a long time, not a jot or a spot. Clean as a whistle. Shiny as a sixpence. Another reason for trying to keep the weight off!
Now I promised a photo.
There is a certain amount of unpleasantness about to come but I can promise there is no botty, or piles, or blood in this photo, just a certain amount of exposed flesh.
I mentioned yesterday that I am still able to hold a pencil in the fold under my man boob. Here is proof that I definitely could do this about 3 months ago. I'm not taking another photo today so you'll have to make do with old proof...
And seriously, look away if you are eating dinner. Here's a picture of Phoebe if you want a bit of thinking space before scrolling down the page...