Garbage In, Garbage Out

I find that I'm conflicted on the issue of diet and health. I had pizza Tuesday, a burger Wednesday. I fully intend to have a post pub kebab tonight. What's the problem with meat, salad and pitta bread?

Sorry. I cannot bear this any more. This must be complete nonsense. This is ridiculous. The hearing has already lasted an hour and ten minutes. You have twenty more minutes. You have got to do better than this — three permanent
secretaries. You are talking drivel.

While relishing a chairman of the Public Accounts Committee with the panache to berate senior officials in the style above in a public session, I'm still bewildered by the Committee's publication of 'Tackling Child Obesity—First Steps'.

I drop off or collect a child at primary school five days a week, and I've never noticed kids looking fat or slothful at all. In fact I find myself dreaming of a sheep dog or a tranquilizer gun whenever I have to extract my running, jumping, climbing loon from the park to take him home.

I've a lingering suspicion that all the hammering of junk food in the media is just another example of the self selected metropolitan elite's snobbish disdain for the habits of normal folk. The exhibition of the estuary-vowelled Jamie Oliver in this context as if he is some sort of house trained pet also gets up my nose.

And yet ..... and yet .....

I'm getting and ignoring nutrition advice from every direction with my triathlon training. Maybe it is time to start thinking and learning about it more systematically.