11st 8.5lbs.
11st 10.5lbs.
11st 9.5lbs.
11st 10.5lbs.
11st 9.5lbs.
This is what I have weighed at random intervals in the last two weeks. I was pretty chuffed at the fact that I had only put on 2.8lbs across December, only to then basically put on that weight in the space of one fucking week. And I can't even blame lady time! In fact, I was actually trying to diet for the first of those two weeks, so that makes it a million times worse. Shame on me, and shame on my approach to healthy eating. I'm not sure what that approach was now (it's long been lost in memories of Yo! Sushi lunches and handfuls of crisps) but I definitely needed to stop. So I have.
This week I am back on track and sticking to fasting — THIS IS THE YEAR. I say this every year, but this year I REALLY have to fucking try because I just realised something last week and it terrified me: I am very likely to get married in the next year and a half. FUCK FUCK FUCK. I cannot be feeling insecure on my wedding day. I cannot take loads of selfies to hide my double chin. I cannot ask the photographer to cut my fat arms out of every shot (hmm, or can I?). I need to actually look decent, so I really need to start NOW.
I'm not saying that I am going to be uber-strict (ha, god forbid should I actually stick to anything in a bid to lose weight) but I am going to need to remind myself of the 'W' word every time I am thinking about lifting unnecessary food items to my big fat mouth.
So, I have printed out new goal weight countdown sheet thing (I updated the one that barely got highlighted last year, obvs) and have devised a new exercise routine that I need to follow (alternate days of exercise bike and circuits). I have made it ultra basic, because I am the laziest fucker known to man. I just need to do it every day until the end of February so I get into the habit, and then I will improve it so I can have arms like Jodie Marsh. Yeah, fuck off — I don't care what you think about that.
This does mean that I will now be exercising on fast days, but seeing as I have more fat reserves than your average polar bear, I really don't think I'm going to be collapsing on the tube anytime soon. I've also decided to eat the same lunch for a whole week, thus limiting how much time per day my brain is allowed to think about lunch possibilites. This also means less lunchtime trips to Morrisons, which also means I am less likely to pick up a sharer bag of salt & vinegar sticks and eat them all in one sitting. Speaking of salt & vinegar sticks — I bought a pack from Waitrose last week and they were fucking rank. I don't know what was wrong with them but they they smelt funny and tasted weird. Still finished them all though.
Dieting is such simple maths but I just find it so fucking difficult. I don't know why. Maybe I need to work with food so that the sight of it makes me sick by the time it comes to mealtimes, you know, so I'm svelte like Gary Rhodes or Michel Roux Jr. But then I realised that for every one of those skinny chefs, there are often two flabby foodie friends like the Two Fat Ladies or the Hairy Bikers making tasty dishes for each other. Even the flippin' Hairy Bikers have managed to lose fucking weight now!
URGH. Come on lady, get it done. WEAR YOUR HUNGER LIKE A BADGE.
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