Do do do do, do do do do, do do do do, do do do do
The aforementioned is my attempt at providing a soundtrack to this blog post. In the form of the below song. It worked didn’t it, tell me it worked?
Anyway, forget my half arsed attempt at trying to set the scene, in my typical dramatic fashion. Let’s attribute my melodramatic mood to excitement.
Excitement for next weekend. For next weekend is enough to get ever so slightly excited about.
I AM FINALLY ABLE TO EAT CHOCOLATE.
I no longer have to turn to lemon biscuits to satisfy my sweet cravings. I can actually do more than hover my nose over a bar of chocolate in a vain attempt at keeping my chocolate hankerings at bay. Although, in all honesty, sniffing chocolate just served to make me miss the sweet, brown stuff all the more.
It has been hard. A challenge like no other.
Usually, I find time goes at the pace of Usain Bolt going for gold, however, this month has been the absolute opposite. A snail suffering from a bad back would likely move faster than March 2017.
It’s been an odd week at Chez Our Rach.
He indoors has been in Germany. I was supposed to go but pulled out a couple of weeks before, for various reasons that mainly encompass work and parenting. I’m so bloody responsible these days, I barely recognise myself. Is this what happens when you get older?
I was on the phone to my Mum on Wednesday morning, sorting out plans for the days ahead when she casually drops into conversation that she’s in the process of baking a cake.
“It better not contain chocolate” I chime in with. Ever the unselfish type of course.
The last time she made a cake it was my favourite you see. Banana and chocolate loaf. On day 10 of the Dechox, which, if I’m honest I’m seeing as a blatant sabotage attempt. I’m cynical if nothing else.
“No, I learnt my lesson last time” she says. “I’m actually making a lemon yoghurt cake”.
Better. Much, much better. I am partial to a lemon drizzle cake.
“It’s not a lemon drizzle cake” she announces, before I can even express my excitement.
Nevertheless, my recent obsession with all things citrus shows no sign of abating. Lemon Cheesecake Digestives are still a delight. A calorific delight but at least they go some way to assist with the chocolate cravings.
Talking of calories, I was absolutely LIVID last Sunday morning to discover I haven’t lost a single pound in weight since I’ve taken on this dechox.
I had visions of losing at least half a stone. Despite the fact my clothes are still as tight as they were in February and indeed January.
Cue an absolute meltdown that involved me stamping my feet like a petulant 5 year old and declaring I was never, ever going to step foot on the scales of doom EVER AGAIN.
“Besides” I said “muscle weighs heavier than fat”.
Like the fact that taking to the exercise bike every now and again would have some sort of dramatic effect on my body definition.
Delusion. I am the most deluded person you are ever likely to meet. It’s a skill. And a curse.
I’ve come to the conclusion that chocolate aids weight loss. I swear I was slimmer when I chowed down on chocolate without a second thought. And happier, I was definitely happier.
Chocolate = happiness. It’s a proven fact. And next Saturday, I will be as happy as a pig in muck.
Except I’ll be the pig and the muck will be the chocolate.