Am I Thin Yet?!

No.  No, I'm not.

Therein lies the pain in all of this.  It's all very well and good having a positive attitude, tensing myself skinny and visualising myself looking like I've just stepped off Carnaby Street in 1965 - but then I look down.  Is it August yet?  Have I lost enough dress sizes to walk into New Look* without getting stared at?!  Can I even begin to entertain a hope of walking into River Island* without the skinny bint behind the counter batting an eyelid?!

No.  No, it isn't.  And no.  I haven't.  In all fairness, I know I'm not the most patient of people.  Not even with myself.  In fact, especially not with myself.  I'm a grump-bag and the first to admit it, but I probably get the worst end of it. 

It's only been a fortnight!!  It's an epic diet, not a flippin' miracle cure!  I really need to calm down and not freak out.  I'll be settled into it in the next couple of weeks and hopefully not even think about it too much.  Patience.  It's a virtue.  Allegedly.  But I do need to work on it otherwise I'll just send myself doolally.  Despite what Peter Kay may have said, it is impossible to lose 14 stone in one day!!! Wish it wasn't, though.  That'd help!!

I've already got into smaller trousers.  Not much smaller, I grant you, and they're still a bit tight.  Also, the trousers I'd shrunk out of and into are probably unreliably sized - I categorically do not trust supermarket sizes.  I don't know anyone who can buy their relevant sized clothing from a supermarket and fit into it comfortably.  Even a pal of mine I used to work with who is tiny used to buy at least one size bigger in Asda than she would buy if she was in a high street shop.  So it's not just a weird excuse invented by the larger person to make them feel thinner.  When 99% of your clothes are one size and one pair of trousers is another, I think it's safe to say that the trousers are wrong and not you. 

I don't feel thinner.  This time last week I felt like I'd lost weight.  I don't have that this week.  Which is horrible, because if anything I've tried even harder this week.  I know I'll find out tomorrow one way or another, but what if I've stayed the same, or worse yet, put weight on?  If I have done I really won't know why.  Am I going to feel this distressed every week in the run up to Thursday?!  I flippin' hope not.  I've got other things to worry about.

This is not the time to start panicking.  The time to start panicking is when I get to the middle of May and I still haven't lost anything.  Which won't happen.  But what if it does?!

So, then.  There's only one thing left to do.

Gimme an E.  Gimme an X.  Gimme an E.  Gimme an R.  Gimme a C.  Gimme an I.  Gimme an S.  Gimme an E.  What does it spell?

No, really - what does it spell?!??  It's years since I've given it a second's thought!!

That's right, folks.  The dreaded E word, which for so long has been regarded as swearing in my world.  It's got to be done.  Eventually I will join a gym.  I will.  I know I'm the least athletic person in the world but I actually really like the gym.  It's my kind of thing.  It's non-contact, there are no teams to be picked for last (after the dustbin at the other end of the playground), you can get your favourite 60s choons on your music-playing device, ignore everyone and people will bog off and leave you to get on with it.  Gyms are great for the anti-social would-be recluse.  Odd as it sounds, I am a fan of them.

Unfortunately, at the moment I'm a bit skint and I'd quite like to wait until I've already lost a bit of weight before I go - mostly so that it'll be easier to find suitable clothes to exercise in.  So, I need to think of something else to do.  Luckily, I think I've hit upon a plan.

The Six O'Clock Boogie is still a valid idea and when I finally get round to making myself a decent 60s dance CD and clearing a suitable space in my bedroom I will definitely get on with that.  There is also the Skip-It. 

For those of you who were children in the early 90s, you might remember these things.  There's a ball on one end of a rope and a hoop at the other end.  You put the hoop around your ankle and spin the rope round, then skip over the rope when it gets to your free leg.  It requires quite a technique and definitely burns up quite a lot of energy.  If you get a good enough space you can do it in the living room while watching The Champions (or any other 60s TV show you might have a box set of!).  It was my favourite thing when I was eight.  I was great at it.  My little feet were blurry, I used to go so fast!!  I've searched all over t'internet for one and have finally found a site that sells them.  Apparently they're still closed over Christmas (who closes for a month at Christmas?!), but they reopen next week.  So after pay day I think I shall invest in one. 

I've got to do something.  Last week proved to me that the Slimming World thing works whether you exercise or not.  Legend has it that it just works *better* if you exercise as well.  I'll try it out.  I want to feel thinner every week and not panic that I'm not doing it right.

Join me again on Friday when hopefully I shall be feeling a little less neurotic and will be able to report back to you on Week 3 at Fat Club.  There will either be whoops of jubilation or guttural cries of anguish.  But there won't be a trail of empty chocolate wrappers in my wake.  Definitely not this time.  I'm serious about it, now!!


*There are other high street shops available.  And I likely won't shop in either of them after I've lost weight anyway, on principle!