I put on nearly half a stone over the festive period.
Easily done isn’t it, this over indulging lark. I’ll tell you something that isn’t quite so easy, finding the motivation to try and shed that excess weight in the new year.
I started 2016 full of determination to lose the pounds I’ve put on, and ensure I make some headway with reaching the number I’d like to see flashed back at me on the scales. But, 4 days into my proposed ‘diet plan’, I’ve fallen off the wagon and you know what? For once I’m not going to berate myself.
Allow me to tell you why.
January has got to be for most, the most depressing month of the year. Christmas is all but a distant memory (a somewhat hazy memory for me I have to say), the nights are still dark, the morning’s too in fact and it feels like there isn’t much to look forward to at this moment in time. The last thing you probably want to do is count calories like you’re counting money, hit the gym with gusto and spend your mornings berating yourself for not managing to lose more than half a pound. IT SUCKS.
So, I’ve decided to make a resolution to not put pressure on myself to lose X amount in a certain amount of time, like I’ve done so since NY 2008. Instead, I’m just going to eat whatever I fancy, in (sort of) moderation. I’m not going to deprive myself of some
a bag of Mini Eggs (yes, I went there, I actually bought some Easter chocolate this week, don’t judge, they were on offer).
If eating something rather comforting and perhaps a bit naughty is helping me to beat those January blues then so bloody what?
Yes, of course I’d like to be able to put my skinny jeans on without having to lie down and treat it like some sort of workout in itself, and I would absolutely love to be able to look at myself in the mirror without flapping my bingo wings about. However, the more I deprive myself of something, the more I end up wanting it and then I become miserable and I find myself in a vicious circle and I probably become horrible to be around (I suffer from ‘Hanger’, does anyone else?)
I actually think the best time to be a little stricter with ones diet is the summer. You’re out and about a lot more, not sat in the sofa on a cold Tuesday night, eyeing up that box of Ferrero Rocher’s that you didn’t manage to devour at Christmas (if you’re like me that’s probably because you’d already eaten 5 boxes in 2 weeks).
You also don’t tend to eat big meals quite so much, certainly not like you might do during the winter months.
Because I don’t drive, I like to walk; that’s my thing, but I really do not enjoy walking in the weather we’re currently experiencing. There’s nothing pleasurable in that. However, once the nights draw out and the temperature rises I could walk anywhere for long periods of time which helps me to keep on top of my weight.
So, that’s my plan. I’m saying bollocks to being strict in January, if I fancy a piece
slab of cheese then I shall have that cheese and I won’t start telling myself off.
Life’s too short to be depriving oneself of luxuries, I was thinking today, when I’m on my deathbed (excuse the morbidness), will I be remembering the time I got on the scales and gave myself a high five, or will I remember the delicious meals I devoured, the lovely food I sampled and how much joy food brought to my life.
I’d like to think congratulating myself on losing 2lbs in a week wouldn’t be one of my greatest achievements or pleasures in life.