It all started so well. I’d thrown myself into Mission Impossible with gusto, determined, focused and displaying something that seemed to resemble willpower at all times.
I was guzzling green tea like it was going out of fashion. I’d almost managed to convince myself I was enjoying it.
My green tea face.
Day 2 came and I was still as dedicated as Day 1. I can do this I thought, this isn’t going to be as hard as I previously imagined.
And then I found myself on Day 3.
When I work from home there is temptation all around. A cereal cupboard brimming with options, a freezer bursting with chocolate (I know, I just shouldn’t buy it, I can’t help myself when I’m in a supermarket, it’s like Cadbury’s are sending me subliminal messages ordering me to purchase their products).
I’m that person that when I have a bad day of eating, when I give a middle finger to the diet, I’m flipping it the bird for the rest of the week. WORST DIETING MANTRA EVER. Time after time I’ve read dieticians and the like profess that if you have a cheat day or whatever they’re called, then you must jump back on the horse the next day. Well, that horse bolted and I’ve not seen it since.
A bacon roll stuffed with brie on Day 4 followed by a homemade chocolate brownie (thanks Mum, Mary Berry is probably quaking in her boots and rightly so). Oh and let’s not forget the grab bag of Munchies on Day 5 which meant this diet was well and truly fucked. Fucked before it had ever really truly begun.
“We’ll start again on Monday” I said to Wes as he informed me he’d treated himself to a Panini earlier that day and I was sat on the sofa stuffing a Rice Krispie cake in my mouth.
The weekend came and I was intrigued to receive a message from my beloved informing me he was taking me out for a surprise on Saturday evening. He’s been gallivanting round Europe over the last 6 weeks, Magaluf one weekend, France for the Euros the next. I was sure he was buttering me up for yet another Lad’s weekend. Turns out I was correct as he’s off to a Sportsman’s dinner with Mark Ramprakash (ex-Cricketer) soon, so I was sort of right. A woman’s instinct serves her well.
Anyway, we had a lovely night in Bath, wine was poured and steak and chips devoured and Mission Impossible was soon a distant memory.
So, with all this in mind, you can imagine my utter surprise when I stepped on the scales this morning and discovered I’ve lost nearly 3lbs this week.
Usually when I step on the scales of doom, I move them around the bathroom a bit, hoping it might make a difference to the numbers flashing back at me. There was no chance I was going to do this today, as quickly as I stepped on, I soon stepped off. I’ll take that. I am not going to run the risk of facing bitter disappointment if I step back on and find I’ve actually gained 3lbs this week (which is what I was convinced of when I woke up this morning).
As today is weigh in day, I shall declare today a day of eating. I feel I deserve it after my week of commitment (!)
In all seriousness though, I’m really hoping that next week will be more successful when it comes to dieting. While I’m happy I appear to have lost some weight this week, it’s only a small win as I really haven’t achieved what I set out to do.
I hear we’re due some good weather next week (finally, although I’ll believe it when I see it), so I’m hoping this will stand me in good stead to have a successful week of dieting. When the weather is crap I find myself staring at an empty box of chocolates wondering if I’ve just smashed a world record time for fastest food consumption.
With less than 5 weeks to V Festival and 9 weeks until I find myself having to stick a bikini on for the first time in 3 years, I seriously need to find some willpower from somewhere. If you happen to find mine then please let me know. There’s a potential for a reward, I have plenty of chocolate residing in my freezer that I can award you with.
Current weight: 140.5lbs
Goal weight: 130lbs