Day 3
Today was another slow day in Paradise. Not a lot happens when you're fasting.
Get up, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox drink, eat tablets, go to bed and Repeat x7.
Except today was thrilling. So many things happened I can't wait to share them all with you.
Great news! The good body man wasn't by the pool today so my status as number 1 Alpha male was restored. Granted, the only other men were three 70 year old Eastern Europeans with bow legs and an overweight Chinese man who's wife wore armbands in a waist high swimming pool. Still, the sweet feeling of alpha status sated my wafer thin ego.
The morning was uneventful save for passing a German couple sporting matching Bum-bags and 'Def Leppard' t-shirts. They wore them without post-modern retro fashion irony. They were genuinely 80's warriors. In fact they pre-dated irony which actually made them twice removed ironic. Like an Irony Paradigm. You don't see many of them these post-modern ironic retro days. It was refreshing to see a couple genuinely dress badly.
I bumped into Dr John and had a brief but perplexing conversation. I asked him, "How long have you been fasting manager?" Averting my gaze he said, "I fast every year". I repeated the question but louder. "Oh, sorry" he said, averting once more, "Buzz used to be restaurant manager, fast manger, everything manager before he built a couple of villas up there in the mountains and hired them out." I was rather stunned by this reply. It took me a few seconds to wonder what the fuck was going on before I said. "Who's Buzz?". Dr John looked at me as if I was a piece of 'deep cleansed stool', like I should know Buzz as an old friend, "He was the fasting manager before me". "oh" I said and immediately left none- the wiser. What an odd man. Dr John, not Buzz. Buzz sounds cool, I'd like to hang out with him in his Villa's. I bet he looks you in they eye and answers a straight question.
Both morning and evening colema's were particularly nasty. Definitely something to be endured not enjoyed. The opposite of my life Motto.
However, the afternoon colema was made a little easier after a brief chat with a fellow faster and really interesting dreadlocked Grandmother from Portland. USA. She imported Sari's and jewellery from India to Portland. We talked about Goa and India and all the vivid colours and extremities it offered. We talked about fasting, the world and globalisation. When I asked her what Portland was like she replied, "alternative, but it's become gentrified". This sparked a 5 minute chat about how all the cool, creative artistic areas are becoming less affordable or 'gentrified. I offered up Kings Road, Notting Hill, Shoreditch and Kensington as examples in London of independent creative hubs that were now full of dull and samey investment bankers or similar types who can only afford to live there.
I became somewhat misty eyed and sentimental when I recalled to her the Kings Road of when I was 14 or the individual fashion stores at Kensington Market. She was kind and patient and when she asked what was Kensington Market was like these days, I replied "Maplin."
We both rather gloomily agreed this is a world problem and centred around capitalism and with a new unity forged we disappeared into traps 7 and 9 to shit ourselves.
Fasting is a great leveller. There we were discussing globalisation, vibrations and energy flows with her looking like the coolest granny you would ever see and me looking like David Hasselhoff in Speedos. Still I gave a good account of myself and seemed far more worldly than I really am. I think I just about pulled it off. She seemed impressed.
Back at the pool I got chatting to someone. After 10 minutes of idle chat, the waiter came over and placed a massive bowl of crinkle cut French fries in front of them. 'Holy fuck, how good do they look?" I remarked. "Did you know I was fasting?" "Sorry no, do you mind if I eat them?" "Not at all", I lied. I watched them eat every mouthful. They looked like the best chips I've ever seen. Golden, lightly fried, you could even hear the little crunch as they bit. "How good are they out of 10? I asked. "7.5" was the reply. They looked like a 15 to me but I was pleased with 7.5, though I think they underplayed it to manage my hunger. When they finished I found myself getting a little closer to them in the vague hope I could smell the chips on their breath. Then I realised how creepy it was. Fasting does that to you sometimes.
I ran again in the evening. My IM coach will be pleased. But not at the pace. In fairness I did pass two people on the steepest climb. But they were Thai pensioners, one of which had a limp.
I got my favourite vantage point, it was a little lighter tonight, so I was able to climb onto the rock jutting over the sea, waves crashing below me and stars twinkling above. There were no urinating dogs tonight so I was able to meditate for a full 10 minutes.
I decided the Sea is my Higher power. It doesn't give a fuck. It just rolls in and out relentlessly, waves constantly crashing and it's bigger than me.
On the bare-chested run back, I was applauded and bowed at by 4 Thai's leaving a restaurant. Granted they were pissed but they seemed to be impressed by my sweaty efforts. I like Thailand, the people are sweet. In England when you run bare-chested all you tend to get from people is a loud, "wanker!"
I have to admit diary, I caved in and drank a can of Schweppes Lime soda tonight after the run. It was a moment of weakness and I'm sorry. I know it's a slippery slope, after all i'm an addict and one lime/soda could lead to two, then a banana, then a pizza and before I know it i'm knee deep in deep fried ping pong balls and ladyboys.
I'll be a good boy tomorrow and ensure it won't happen.
Love you long time
Nicholas 'Thai-boy' Evans
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