"Fat to Fittie"

It was going to happen at some point, there was no way I could manage 40 days without the allure of a sausage roll entering my life, guess I should be pleased I got to 26, but before I tell what happened, let’s start at the beginning. The word’s “road trip” can be often overused and mentioned when talking about a day trip to the seaside, or a visit to relative’s who live more than two hours drive away, to me this is simply not enough. If you’re going on a road trip, the first thing it needs to involve is planning, without that, it’s just a ride in the car. The journey you’re about to undertake has to have some sort of endurance involved, where you need to make decisions and arrangements before hand, how much drink and food do I need to stock pile, what sort of medication should I take, will I need my Blue badge, How many times will I have to stop for a piss? All thing’s to be considered and remembered before setting out. Of course you also need a destination, many people think going on some sort of mystery tour spin in the country constitutes a road trip, well it doesn’t, if you don’t know where you’re headed, then it’s just a jolly.

A friend and I had to go see someone this week, he lives in a far away world, south of Luton, so planning was essential. We also needed to come back the same day, add to this the stress of the toilet breaks and boom, we had ourselves a road trip. Being mature grown up’s, alternative entertainment never entered our heads, no need for the radio or other devices, all we required for the 19 hr journey was each other’s conversation and some witty banter. It may have taken a little longer than we’d hoped to get there, but we’d factored this into our flight plan and on arrival, we were fit, full and feeling good. I suppose it’s only fair to point out that I wasn’t the one driving, which judging by the state of my crippled legs was a good job, but I was assisting in spirit. The stop over went well and we stocked up before setting off, though darkness was now coming which as everyone knows, requires more concentration and not as much talk. I won’t lie, the pain in my legs was getting worse and more morphine was needed, the only thing spurring me on was the thought of the service station, the little oasis that’s the saviour of every motorist.

We’d decided that KFC was the required food, yes I know it’s not ideal when trying to lose weight, but today was special and some serious crap was needed to get me through the next 3 and a half hours. On pulling in, we commented how quiet the car park was, but put that down to the time of night and the fact there were two other motorway sanctums close by. As the pair of us entered inside, the section where we needed to be was furthest away, the long slow walk around the empty tables and chairs, made worse by the closed sign on the digital menu. Shit! it was gone 10, completely forgot, all we had left was the WH Smith’s. As I headed to the ablutions, my friend went to see what he could scavenge, the image of a cold Ginsters pasty or Peperami stick filling my head. I needn’t have worried though, because as I returned, sitting there on the table for me was a warm hot dog sausage with ketchup and mustard, equally as crap as a KFC, but also guaranteed to get me to the finish line, how grateful I was. Being a lovely kind friend though, he’d also bought something else, laying close to the hot dog was the most beautiful sausage roll. I glanced at it for a moment, not knowing if to tell him I’d given them up for lent, but how could I, that would be rude and un-grateful, maybe best to just keep quiet. I couldn’t take my eyes of it though, despite the fact it was wrapped in cellophane I could smell it, the pastry and sausagemeat blending together perfectly. I put my hand on top, it was warm as well, even more tempting, I gave it a squeeze, nice and soft, not hard, which usually happens after standing in a heated glass compartment for hours, almost the perfect sausage roll. What the frig was I going to do?

I couldn’t be angry at such a kind gesture, he didn’t know, but that could be to my advantage. If my friend wasn’t aware I’d given them up, then he wouldn’t tell anyone I’d weakened, that I was just another useless let down, full of empty promise’s and the inability to have any sort of will power…..but I’d know. After sitting dribbling for a few minutes watching him eat his, I made the decision to put it in my pocket and lied that I’d have it later. Without exaggerating, this was a choice as hard to make as the one I’d pondered over the other day, which was who was my no1 crush, Jodie Whittaker or Sally Bretton from Not going out. So where is this sausage roll now? Well it’s sitting in my freezer waiting to be eaten on Easter Saturday, to say I’m looking forward to it is an understatement, but I have a feeling with 17 days left to go, when that wonderful morning arrives, it won’t be in there alone.