Yesterday was okay. The test itself wasn't remotely difficult, all I had to do was just lie down and have flashing lights in my eyes for fifteen minutes and then breathe like Darth Vader during hayfever season for three minutes and then they let me have a kip. Staying awake for twenty-four hours prior to that, however, was pretty tough going. Between half past two and half past three I felt ridiculously hyper, between four and six I thought I was going crazy and felt like my eyeballs were going to fall out of their sockets. The worst part was the car journey to the hospital, I couldn't keep my eyes open!! I must've looked dreadful. I certainly felt like I'd died three weeks earlier and my body was just in the process of catching up with me...
When it finally came to the time the nurse let me sleep, and how I managed to stay awake through the rest of the test is still beyond me, as luck would have it - no sooner did I close my eyes than the workmen outside thought it'd be a great idea to start drilling the pavement. Not even a euphemism. Still, after approximately 28 hours, even if they'd started drilling in the exam room I wouldn't have noticed, I was out like a light for fifteen glorious minutes. Sigh. It was great.
Anyway, that's all over now and hopefully I won't have to do it again.
But today was my second weigh-in after a week of generally being good and refusing yummy stuff and being completely sober, I hopped back on the scales, waiting to see how I'd done. The llamas got their new leg-warmers on especially for the occasion, ready at any moment to put on the fiesta of all fiestas. I crossed my fingers, I thought thin thoughts, I said the magic words "Please don't let me put any weight on...!" and then looked at the number on the scales...
It was exactly the same. Exactly. To the ounce. Absolutely nothing had altered.
Positives: Hey, at least I didn't put any on!
Negatives: WTF?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!! What is the point in life?!!? Nothing is worth anything!! I AM POINTLESS!!! I should just die now and save the NHS time and expense on treating any future weight-related health issues!!!! *sob*
After having a mini-breakdown and writing seven different versions of a suicide note, I told my Mum when she came to visit. She said she'd been weighed the previous day and hopped on the scales to see what it said about her. If they're to be believed she put half a stone on in less than 24 hours... Then she said that the scales were actually third-hand and not very good.
So.... erm... Well, the llamas haven't done a fiesta today because we're all scratching our heads in confusion.
I'm changing the scales and getting weighed again tomorrow so I can start all over again. So the llamas will have an extra week to work on their routine. It will be spectacular. Or at least it should be.
Flippin' scales. They do have a habit of spoiling people's day. But they won't do next week!!!
Showing posts with label targets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label targets. Show all posts
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
The Weight of the Situation
So I've re-applied for my llama licence. I had to. I got a postcard from Miguel (I dunno how he managed it due to the lack of his opposable thumbs, but I didn't like to split hairs with him over it) saying that him and Ricardo are broke and can't find work. There are too many Llama Dancing Troupes in Bolivia and they aren't considered a novelty act over there any more. Javier left the troupe (I know, he was everyone's favourite) after an incident with one of the girl llamas in the local theatre and so they're all pretty down on their luck and want to come home as soon as possible. Ricardo's everyday legwarmers went threadbare about six months ago and he's been wearing his gold sparkle ones for the past three weeks which are starting to look a bit grubby. There are no local launderettes and Ricardo's nerves are like piano wires due to the fact he has to walk the streets of Bolivia wearing dirty legwarmers.
It was a very large postcard, that's how he managed to fit so much information on it.
For those of you new to my blog, I'd best explain that I am the proud owner of an invisible and completely imaginary troupe of dancing llamas who put on a fiesta for me every week during 2012 when I was losing weight. They've had a year off travelling around the world (although they finally settled in Bolivia) and going on adventures but now they're just about ready to come home.
This morning I weighed myself for the first time in fifteen months. It's an inaccuracy to say it was 'difficult', because it was actually remarkably easy - I just stood on a pair of scales and tried to think thin thoughts. The build-up, however, was a little daunting. Scales and I have never been friends. They have never said anything nice to me. Of all the plus sides associated with losing weight, stepping on a pair of scales every week was never something I had missed. Part of me secretly hoped that I hadn't really put any weight on at all and that someone had just blown me up with a foot-pump in the night when I wasn't looking. Another part of me worried that I'd put at least eight stone on (112 lbs, for the benefit of my American readers). But I knew that if I was ever going to get anywhere, then I'd need to take a deep breath and get back on the scales, so as soon as I'd woken up and while I was too tired to talk myself out of it, I weighed myself.
It was pretty much as I'd expected. I've put every single gram of weight back on - plus one pound for good luck. So I am more or less exactly where I started (after all, when you weigh the same as an entire rugby league squad, what's an extra pound between friends?!) two years ago. Which, actually, is a really good thing. The slate is completely wiped clean. I can start completely afresh. I know what mistakes I made last time, I know how quickly the weight came off last time so I won't get as impatient with myself. I know what to be aware of and I know not to be afraid that losing weight won't ever happen, because I know it will.
I'm back to Square One - but this time I've got one up on myself from last time. This isn't new ground. I've got this. I've done this, I've been here. And now I know exactly where I'm going...
It was a very large postcard, that's how he managed to fit so much information on it.
For those of you new to my blog, I'd best explain that I am the proud owner of an invisible and completely imaginary troupe of dancing llamas who put on a fiesta for me every week during 2012 when I was losing weight. They've had a year off travelling around the world (although they finally settled in Bolivia) and going on adventures but now they're just about ready to come home.
This morning I weighed myself for the first time in fifteen months. It's an inaccuracy to say it was 'difficult', because it was actually remarkably easy - I just stood on a pair of scales and tried to think thin thoughts. The build-up, however, was a little daunting. Scales and I have never been friends. They have never said anything nice to me. Of all the plus sides associated with losing weight, stepping on a pair of scales every week was never something I had missed. Part of me secretly hoped that I hadn't really put any weight on at all and that someone had just blown me up with a foot-pump in the night when I wasn't looking. Another part of me worried that I'd put at least eight stone on (112 lbs, for the benefit of my American readers). But I knew that if I was ever going to get anywhere, then I'd need to take a deep breath and get back on the scales, so as soon as I'd woken up and while I was too tired to talk myself out of it, I weighed myself.
It was pretty much as I'd expected. I've put every single gram of weight back on - plus one pound for good luck. So I am more or less exactly where I started (after all, when you weigh the same as an entire rugby league squad, what's an extra pound between friends?!) two years ago. Which, actually, is a really good thing. The slate is completely wiped clean. I can start completely afresh. I know what mistakes I made last time, I know how quickly the weight came off last time so I won't get as impatient with myself. I know what to be aware of and I know not to be afraid that losing weight won't ever happen, because I know it will.
I'm back to Square One - but this time I've got one up on myself from last time. This isn't new ground. I've got this. I've done this, I've been here. And now I know exactly where I'm going...
**********Cue theme music to Rocky**********
Friday, 7 September 2012
Sleeves Firmly Rolled Up
Normally, as you know, I get pretty narked when I put weight on after a week of being good.
However, this week, I've put half a pound on, and although the llamas haven't come out for a celebratory fiesta (although to be fair they had two fiestas last week so they could do with a break), I'm really not too worried about it.
This is good because I've taken into account that for the first couple of days since my last weigh in I was still a bit wobbly on the diet before getting back on it properly on Monday so I haven't really had a week of being good, I've had about four days of being good. I've also taken into account the fact that I've drunk a lot more water this week, mostly due to the fact I've walked everywhere. I've walked about four miles a day over the last week, which doesn't seem like much but it's more than twice as far as I usually walk, so for me, it's loads, and I've probably developed a teensy tiny bit of muscle. Not to mention the fact I've worked full-time which always screws up my diet plans, and I more often than not end up skipping breakfast altogether, which isn't ideal, I know. But still, I know why I've put on, and that's less frustrating than being really good and still putting half a pound on. AND it means that I'm finally starting to get a bit of perspective on weight loss, realising that it can't always be a constant thing and just because I put a bit on, it doesn't mean that I'm a bad person or a failure. Which is quite a revelation.
However, at the same time, it's also a bit scary because not being too worried about a weight gain can make you complacent. And I'm not skinny enough to get complacent!
Andrea The Consultant gave us all the New Members' talk again. It's not just been me that's been a bit screw-uppy, everyone's gone a bit off the boil. It's apparently only 16 weigh-ins till Christmas, which doesn't worry me too much because obviously I don't celebrate Christmas and I've no plans around that time anyway other than to eat my own body weight in chocolate and to drink enough alcohol to make Georgie Best, Oliver Reed, Keith Moon and Robert Newton all applaud my stalwart efforts.
But it's only seven weigh-ins until the Michael Nesmith gig, and that does worry me. Even though it shouldn't, really. I know if anyone said to me this time last year I'd be able to wear a size 18 dress to go and see Michael Nesmith in concert, I'd have laughed at the implausibility of both suggestions. So, really, in that sort of context, even if I don't lose another dress size between now and then, I'm still ridiculously thinner than I was this time last year - AND I'll get to fulfill a lifelong ambition and actually be in the same room at the same time as my favourite Monkee. I mean, it's all good. Even if I put four stone on between now and then, the fact I'll be there is incredible enough in itself. Not that I will, of course. I've come much too far now to go back to how I used to be.
But now I'm here, two or three dress sizes to go until I get to target (I probably won't reach that decision until I've lost the next two dress sizes!), and it somehow still doesn't feel like I've done nearly enough. I know it isn't a race. I'm not trying to be thin for an event or because someone else is losing X amount of stones and I want to beat them to it. I'm losing weight because I don't want to spend the rest of my life not doing things because I'm too fat to do them. And if it takes me a year to do it or it takes me 18 months to do it - fine, so long as I do it eventually.
But I still want to get it over and done with as quickly as I can so I can make a start on maintaining it!!
It isn't an impossible ask to drop a dress size in 7 weeks. In fact, it's quite reasonable. I know I can do it. So I'd best get on with it, really, hadn't I?! I've not got time to mope - I've got lbs to shed!
Join me again at some juncture next week when I may have some sort of an update for you. But if not I shall update again on Friday when hopefully, fingers crossed, after a whole week of being good I'll finally have a result worthy of a fiesta from the llamas!!
However, this week, I've put half a pound on, and although the llamas haven't come out for a celebratory fiesta (although to be fair they had two fiestas last week so they could do with a break), I'm really not too worried about it.
This is good because I've taken into account that for the first couple of days since my last weigh in I was still a bit wobbly on the diet before getting back on it properly on Monday so I haven't really had a week of being good, I've had about four days of being good. I've also taken into account the fact that I've drunk a lot more water this week, mostly due to the fact I've walked everywhere. I've walked about four miles a day over the last week, which doesn't seem like much but it's more than twice as far as I usually walk, so for me, it's loads, and I've probably developed a teensy tiny bit of muscle. Not to mention the fact I've worked full-time which always screws up my diet plans, and I more often than not end up skipping breakfast altogether, which isn't ideal, I know. But still, I know why I've put on, and that's less frustrating than being really good and still putting half a pound on. AND it means that I'm finally starting to get a bit of perspective on weight loss, realising that it can't always be a constant thing and just because I put a bit on, it doesn't mean that I'm a bad person or a failure. Which is quite a revelation.
However, at the same time, it's also a bit scary because not being too worried about a weight gain can make you complacent. And I'm not skinny enough to get complacent!
Andrea The Consultant gave us all the New Members' talk again. It's not just been me that's been a bit screw-uppy, everyone's gone a bit off the boil. It's apparently only 16 weigh-ins till Christmas, which doesn't worry me too much because obviously I don't celebrate Christmas and I've no plans around that time anyway other than to eat my own body weight in chocolate and to drink enough alcohol to make Georgie Best, Oliver Reed, Keith Moon and Robert Newton all applaud my stalwart efforts.
But it's only seven weigh-ins until the Michael Nesmith gig, and that does worry me. Even though it shouldn't, really. I know if anyone said to me this time last year I'd be able to wear a size 18 dress to go and see Michael Nesmith in concert, I'd have laughed at the implausibility of both suggestions. So, really, in that sort of context, even if I don't lose another dress size between now and then, I'm still ridiculously thinner than I was this time last year - AND I'll get to fulfill a lifelong ambition and actually be in the same room at the same time as my favourite Monkee. I mean, it's all good. Even if I put four stone on between now and then, the fact I'll be there is incredible enough in itself. Not that I will, of course. I've come much too far now to go back to how I used to be.
But now I'm here, two or three dress sizes to go until I get to target (I probably won't reach that decision until I've lost the next two dress sizes!), and it somehow still doesn't feel like I've done nearly enough. I know it isn't a race. I'm not trying to be thin for an event or because someone else is losing X amount of stones and I want to beat them to it. I'm losing weight because I don't want to spend the rest of my life not doing things because I'm too fat to do them. And if it takes me a year to do it or it takes me 18 months to do it - fine, so long as I do it eventually.
But I still want to get it over and done with as quickly as I can so I can make a start on maintaining it!!
It isn't an impossible ask to drop a dress size in 7 weeks. In fact, it's quite reasonable. I know I can do it. So I'd best get on with it, really, hadn't I?! I've not got time to mope - I've got lbs to shed!
Join me again at some juncture next week when I may have some sort of an update for you. But if not I shall update again on Friday when hopefully, fingers crossed, after a whole week of being good I'll finally have a result worthy of a fiesta from the llamas!!
Monday, 30 July 2012
Swimmin' with the Wimmin'
So, the Olympics has started in London and everyone's mind is turning to all things sporty.
Mine isn't. Even though I've watched a lot of gymnastics (and fencing, swimming and... actually that's it, so far). If I could back-flip, I have a feeling that I would never walk again. A normal trip to the corner shop for a pint of milk would be a very different experience. Or if I'd gone on a dead long walk and my legs got tired, I'd just walk on my hands instead. I'd be triple somersaulting all over the flippin' (ha! see what I did there?!) place. It must be nice to be a natural athlete.
The E Word keeps rearing its ugly head and I keep on avoiding it like the plague. Due to my lack of car I do walk nearly everywhere - at least two miles a day, but I'm really starting to get the feeling that I have to do more. I have arms that need unwobbling. I have curves that need to look more curvy and less lumpy. I have core muscles that need... er... coring.
I'm bored already. Exercise is for people without the capability to watch sport on television, surely?
I blame the plethora of exercise that's going on in the country right now. Us sedentary chaps and chapesses are being made to feel guilty. Look. Some of us - like Bruce Springsteen - were born to run. Some of us were born to get public transport instead - like me.
I keep being advised to take up swimming, but I feel this is the last thing I ought to do. For a start it will unquestionably involve, at some stage, the concept of me in a swimming costume. There is probably no sight more repugnant to the human race. Even the thought of it makes my blood run cold. Nobody needs to see that! Eeesh!!! The other problem with swimming is that I can't swim. Which really is a problem that far exceeds any self-hate issues I happen to have running in conjunction with my lack of ability. Besides, I'd end up with shoulders the size of a small child. I don't need another hang-up about my physical appearance, thank you - I already have enough for two lifetimes!!
There'll be an activity out there that has my name on it. Something that doesn't involve going outside, is a well known source of aerobic exercise and is utterly enjoyable and with purpose. I know what you're all thinking. And you're right. I should really start dancing round the living room! (What?! What were you thinking?!)
I've been very good this weekend. I've eaten a lot but it's all been the right sort of stuff. I've also done a ton of decorating and loads more walking than usual. That ought to do something for certain muscle groups. Dunno what, like, but it ought to - I'm knackered. It should at least improve my karate. I've seen the Karate Kid (I'm referring to the real one and not the abysmal remake that Jackie Chan basically spent the whole film looking apologetic for. And this is from the man who made Shanghai Knights!), I know how it works. I bet I'm an expert now - I could take on ALL the Cobra Kai team and batter 'em!! Just try coming at me! Try it!!
Actually - don't. I'll most likely scream hysterically, fall to the floor and assume the foetal position.
I don't know what to think about the weight-loss thing at the moment, though. It seems to me, whenever I think "Oooh, I dunno, I feel a bit podgier this week, I'm sure I've put on! And how about that extra cup of coffee with milk I had on Tuesday morning?!" it turns out that I lose something ridiculous like 4lbs or so. But when I've been mega-good and Synned like a nun at Lourdes, and thought to myself, "I've been dead good, I must've lost something this week! I even feel thinner!" I end up either only losing half a pound or putting a bit of weight on or staying the same. All I'm doing is following the plan exactly as I did on my first week back in January. At the moment I'm simply aiming to still be the same weight as I was before my epic week of hedonism. If I get a better result than that then I shall be chuffed, but I really don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, I've been very good last week and am determined to be just as good this week, so, who knows. If I can get as close as I can to my 4 stone mark by next Thursday I shall be more chuffed than the chuff of a chuff's chuff. And we all know how chuffed they are!
Join me later on in the week for my pre-weigh in nervous breakdown. It's been two weeks since I last went to Fat Club and I'm sure by Wednesdayish I shall be absolutely terrified about getting back on those there scales... *wibble*
Mine isn't. Even though I've watched a lot of gymnastics (and fencing, swimming and... actually that's it, so far). If I could back-flip, I have a feeling that I would never walk again. A normal trip to the corner shop for a pint of milk would be a very different experience. Or if I'd gone on a dead long walk and my legs got tired, I'd just walk on my hands instead. I'd be triple somersaulting all over the flippin' (ha! see what I did there?!) place. It must be nice to be a natural athlete.
The E Word keeps rearing its ugly head and I keep on avoiding it like the plague. Due to my lack of car I do walk nearly everywhere - at least two miles a day, but I'm really starting to get the feeling that I have to do more. I have arms that need unwobbling. I have curves that need to look more curvy and less lumpy. I have core muscles that need... er... coring.
I'm bored already. Exercise is for people without the capability to watch sport on television, surely?
I blame the plethora of exercise that's going on in the country right now. Us sedentary chaps and chapesses are being made to feel guilty. Look. Some of us - like Bruce Springsteen - were born to run. Some of us were born to get public transport instead - like me.
I keep being advised to take up swimming, but I feel this is the last thing I ought to do. For a start it will unquestionably involve, at some stage, the concept of me in a swimming costume. There is probably no sight more repugnant to the human race. Even the thought of it makes my blood run cold. Nobody needs to see that! Eeesh!!! The other problem with swimming is that I can't swim. Which really is a problem that far exceeds any self-hate issues I happen to have running in conjunction with my lack of ability. Besides, I'd end up with shoulders the size of a small child. I don't need another hang-up about my physical appearance, thank you - I already have enough for two lifetimes!!
There'll be an activity out there that has my name on it. Something that doesn't involve going outside, is a well known source of aerobic exercise and is utterly enjoyable and with purpose. I know what you're all thinking. And you're right. I should really start dancing round the living room! (What?! What were you thinking?!)
I've been very good this weekend. I've eaten a lot but it's all been the right sort of stuff. I've also done a ton of decorating and loads more walking than usual. That ought to do something for certain muscle groups. Dunno what, like, but it ought to - I'm knackered. It should at least improve my karate. I've seen the Karate Kid (I'm referring to the real one and not the abysmal remake that Jackie Chan basically spent the whole film looking apologetic for. And this is from the man who made Shanghai Knights!), I know how it works. I bet I'm an expert now - I could take on ALL the Cobra Kai team and batter 'em!! Just try coming at me! Try it!!
Actually - don't. I'll most likely scream hysterically, fall to the floor and assume the foetal position.
I don't know what to think about the weight-loss thing at the moment, though. It seems to me, whenever I think "Oooh, I dunno, I feel a bit podgier this week, I'm sure I've put on! And how about that extra cup of coffee with milk I had on Tuesday morning?!" it turns out that I lose something ridiculous like 4lbs or so. But when I've been mega-good and Synned like a nun at Lourdes, and thought to myself, "I've been dead good, I must've lost something this week! I even feel thinner!" I end up either only losing half a pound or putting a bit of weight on or staying the same. All I'm doing is following the plan exactly as I did on my first week back in January. At the moment I'm simply aiming to still be the same weight as I was before my epic week of hedonism. If I get a better result than that then I shall be chuffed, but I really don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, I've been very good last week and am determined to be just as good this week, so, who knows. If I can get as close as I can to my 4 stone mark by next Thursday I shall be more chuffed than the chuff of a chuff's chuff. And we all know how chuffed they are!
Join me later on in the week for my pre-weigh in nervous breakdown. It's been two weeks since I last went to Fat Club and I'm sure by Wednesdayish I shall be absolutely terrified about getting back on those there scales... *wibble*
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Shortest Blog Post Ever
I feel I may have been unintentionally misleading. I said at the end of my blog on Monday that I might have some exciting news on Wednesday and now everyone seems to think that I have a huge announcement of excitement.
I... well... I really don't. Sorry. I just meant it in that usual, "I might have something exciting to tell you - but the likelihood is I won't," capacity that I normally end posts with. I should've made myself a bit clearer. Apologies for building your hopes up. If I did have any exciting news to announce, I'd just announce it, I wouldn't make you wait!!
No, there is truly nothing to report in my boring life, as usual. It's a general state of OK-ness in Wainwright Central. I'm a bit skint, but I'm always a bit skint. I'm still not a bestselling novellist, but I haven't written in months. I'm not at target yet, but I won't be for a good few months yet. I will get there, though, that's a fact. I'm not going out with David Mitchell, but then I never was. Curse you, Coren! Everything is pretty much the same as ever.
I'm feeling a little midweek slumpish, to be honest. Just a general feeling of 'meh'. I know why, like, and I suppose in a way it makes things easier knowing that you're feeling 'meh' for a reason, because at least you know you're not going mad. Or, if you are going mad, there's a a perfectly logical reason for it.
Still, at least Friday will coincide with pay-day. What's more exciting than pay-day on a Friday, may I ask? Answer - NOTHING! Except of course for a fiesta led by a troupe of dancing llamas!!
Let's all cross our fingers and hope for the best - I need to have lost at least half a pound by tomorrow to get my shiny sticker and certificate - but if I've lost more then hopefully I will be well on my way to the 4 stone shiny sticker!! I wonder what colour that is?! Liz will know, she'll tell me. Although I sort of like the surprise of finding out when I get the shiny stickers. "Oooh! A green one!! Shiny!!" I mean, you know. It's pathetic but it's a thing. Just go with it.
There's nothing more to see here. I think this probably qualifies as my shortest blog post ever. I bet you didn't even get time for a little swig of tea, did you?!
I... well... I really don't. Sorry. I just meant it in that usual, "I might have something exciting to tell you - but the likelihood is I won't," capacity that I normally end posts with. I should've made myself a bit clearer. Apologies for building your hopes up. If I did have any exciting news to announce, I'd just announce it, I wouldn't make you wait!!
No, there is truly nothing to report in my boring life, as usual. It's a general state of OK-ness in Wainwright Central. I'm a bit skint, but I'm always a bit skint. I'm still not a bestselling novellist, but I haven't written in months. I'm not at target yet, but I won't be for a good few months yet. I will get there, though, that's a fact. I'm not going out with David Mitchell, but then I never was. Curse you, Coren! Everything is pretty much the same as ever.
I'm feeling a little midweek slumpish, to be honest. Just a general feeling of 'meh'. I know why, like, and I suppose in a way it makes things easier knowing that you're feeling 'meh' for a reason, because at least you know you're not going mad. Or, if you are going mad, there's a a perfectly logical reason for it.
Still, at least Friday will coincide with pay-day. What's more exciting than pay-day on a Friday, may I ask? Answer - NOTHING! Except of course for a fiesta led by a troupe of dancing llamas!!
Let's all cross our fingers and hope for the best - I need to have lost at least half a pound by tomorrow to get my shiny sticker and certificate - but if I've lost more then hopefully I will be well on my way to the 4 stone shiny sticker!! I wonder what colour that is?! Liz will know, she'll tell me. Although I sort of like the surprise of finding out when I get the shiny stickers. "Oooh! A green one!! Shiny!!" I mean, you know. It's pathetic but it's a thing. Just go with it.
There's nothing more to see here. I think this probably qualifies as my shortest blog post ever. I bet you didn't even get time for a little swig of tea, did you?!
Friday, 22 June 2012
And the Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down...
...And the river sucked up Pooh!!
Ah, Disney. You never cease to be hilarious.
It is truly El Pissi Downio out there today. I turned up at work looking like a drowned rat because I currently have no umbrella (a stupid thing for any native to this country, I know), as mine was attacked by the only element that no umbrella can stand - the heavy wind/driving rain combo. I wouldn't have minded but it was a huge umbrella, not one of those ones that snaps in half during a gentle breeze.
You don't want to know my umbrella woes. I'm getting terribly boring in my old age. Only yesterday I got a new computer in work and lamented about how difficult Office 2007 is to use compared to Office 2003 (any idiot who thinks getting rid of AutoText is a good idea has NEVER been a secretary!) while lauding the fabness of the i3 processor and being generally impressed with Windows 7.
I fell asleep twice while typing that sentence. That's how boring I've become.
You think I'm avoiding talking about Fat Club, don't you? Well, no, actually, not really.
As you all know, I was desperate to lose 1 1/2 lbs to get to my halfway 3 1/2 stone mark. I'd been very good indeed and hadn't drunk too much or eaten too much, although as I'd been rather poorly for the past few days I had been what can only be described as sedentary for the past week, so I wasn't too confident. As it turned out I managed to lose 1lb. Which is still good going and I know I can't lose 4lbs every week etc etc etc etc, but it was so annoying just to be half a pound out! That's neither here nor there!! 8oz, it's less than a packet of butter! Gahhh!!!
So, to stop myself being too annoyed at the 'so near yet so far'-ness of the situation, I've already decided in my head that I've hit it. Let's face it, if I'd got on the scales an hour earlier or later I probably would've weighed half a pound less. I've probably already lost half a pound this morning. My next target is to concentrate on hitting the 4 stone mark.
I think this is becoming the most sensible option on the weight-loss front (as I'm practically a veteran now). Rather than thinking "Gosh, I need to lose [insert number here] [ha!! I said 'insert'!!] [HAHA! And again!] stone, that's going to take forEVER!", just think "I can lose half a stone. Half a stone is do-able. Any eejit can lose half a stone!" and then when that's done, you can aim to lose another half stone, and then another and another. You're still aiming for that big goal at the end, but rather than feeling you have an impossible mountain to climb, you just feel you have a few gentle inclines to stroll. And who knows - I mean at the moment I'm pretty sure my target is 7 stone, but when I get there, what if I haven't lost quite enough and I have to move the goalposts back by a stone, or maybe even two? If I try telling myself I have to lose nine stone, I'll freak out, but all I ever have to lose is half a stone. I just have to do it quite a few times, that's all.
Come on, then, llamas - time to shimmy away those summertime blues, never mind the rain! Let the fiesta commence!!
*dances round room like a mad eejit*
My mum lost 1 1/2 lbs in her first week, she wasn't overly strict with keeping to the Syns limit either, so she's really pleased to have seen a result. She's determined to follow the diet to the letter and lose 4lbs next week - and I bet she'll do it too!!
This weekend my pal Zara and her son Dominic are coming to visit. I've not seen them in forever and it'll be lovely to catch up with them both. Whatever you're up to over the weekend, I hope you have a good'un - and I'll see you back here on Monday with a round-up of all the weekend's action!!
Ah, Disney. You never cease to be hilarious.
It is truly El Pissi Downio out there today. I turned up at work looking like a drowned rat because I currently have no umbrella (a stupid thing for any native to this country, I know), as mine was attacked by the only element that no umbrella can stand - the heavy wind/driving rain combo. I wouldn't have minded but it was a huge umbrella, not one of those ones that snaps in half during a gentle breeze.
You don't want to know my umbrella woes. I'm getting terribly boring in my old age. Only yesterday I got a new computer in work and lamented about how difficult Office 2007 is to use compared to Office 2003 (any idiot who thinks getting rid of AutoText is a good idea has NEVER been a secretary!) while lauding the fabness of the i3 processor and being generally impressed with Windows 7.
I fell asleep twice while typing that sentence. That's how boring I've become.
You think I'm avoiding talking about Fat Club, don't you? Well, no, actually, not really.
As you all know, I was desperate to lose 1 1/2 lbs to get to my halfway 3 1/2 stone mark. I'd been very good indeed and hadn't drunk too much or eaten too much, although as I'd been rather poorly for the past few days I had been what can only be described as sedentary for the past week, so I wasn't too confident. As it turned out I managed to lose 1lb. Which is still good going and I know I can't lose 4lbs every week etc etc etc etc, but it was so annoying just to be half a pound out! That's neither here nor there!! 8oz, it's less than a packet of butter! Gahhh!!!
So, to stop myself being too annoyed at the 'so near yet so far'-ness of the situation, I've already decided in my head that I've hit it. Let's face it, if I'd got on the scales an hour earlier or later I probably would've weighed half a pound less. I've probably already lost half a pound this morning. My next target is to concentrate on hitting the 4 stone mark.
I think this is becoming the most sensible option on the weight-loss front (as I'm practically a veteran now). Rather than thinking "Gosh, I need to lose [insert number here] [ha!! I said 'insert'!!] [HAHA! And again!] stone, that's going to take forEVER!", just think "I can lose half a stone. Half a stone is do-able. Any eejit can lose half a stone!" and then when that's done, you can aim to lose another half stone, and then another and another. You're still aiming for that big goal at the end, but rather than feeling you have an impossible mountain to climb, you just feel you have a few gentle inclines to stroll. And who knows - I mean at the moment I'm pretty sure my target is 7 stone, but when I get there, what if I haven't lost quite enough and I have to move the goalposts back by a stone, or maybe even two? If I try telling myself I have to lose nine stone, I'll freak out, but all I ever have to lose is half a stone. I just have to do it quite a few times, that's all.
Come on, then, llamas - time to shimmy away those summertime blues, never mind the rain! Let the fiesta commence!!
*dances round room like a mad eejit*
My mum lost 1 1/2 lbs in her first week, she wasn't overly strict with keeping to the Syns limit either, so she's really pleased to have seen a result. She's determined to follow the diet to the letter and lose 4lbs next week - and I bet she'll do it too!!
This weekend my pal Zara and her son Dominic are coming to visit. I've not seen them in forever and it'll be lovely to catch up with them both. Whatever you're up to over the weekend, I hope you have a good'un - and I'll see you back here on Monday with a round-up of all the weekend's action!!
Wednesday, 20 June 2012
Dude, I Feel So Gnarly
I'm pretty sure only one person on earth will get that particular reference.
My apologies for a lack of update on Monday. I've been poorly. I've felt, well... gnarly. Just unnaturally exhausted, all the time. And dizzy. So flippin' dizzy. Kind of like I'm coming down with something but nothing's actually happening. You know those really annoying vague illnesses that make you feel like all hell but you can't exactly say what's wrong with you. So tired my fingertips hurt, frequently dizzy and nauseous, weird headaches that feel like my head's trapped in a vice... and I feel a right numpty going to the doctors and saying "I feel lousy, what the chuff's up with me?!"
Nevertheless, I did. Two days off work and I still felt rubbish. There was nothing else for it. Understandably, the doc was as stumped as I was and sent me for blood tests just to make sure my body isn't being taken over by aliens (because that's guaranteed to make anyone feel under the weather) or anything.
I've dragged myself back into work today and typically I feel even worse today than I did yesterday and Monday combined. What's a girl to do? If my boss provided sick pay I'd have taken the week off and actually managed to get some proper rest. Never mind. I'll live. I don't think it's possible to actually die of tiredness. Although if I'm wrong I want Fire by the Crazy World of Arthur Brown to be played at my cremation...
My plan this week is to lose 1 1/2 lbs. I dunno if I'll do it because, due to the fact I've felt like someone's pulled the plug out on me and replaced all my limbs with lead-lined cement blocks, I've been rather sedentary the last couple of days. Still, I've been pretty good on the lack of Synning front. I've been drinking heaps more water than usual and eaten loads of fruit and stuff. So I should be okay. I mean 1 1/2 lbs isn't exactly attempting to reach the unreachable. I mean if I'm being mammothly aspirational I'd like to have lost 8 1/2 lbs by my weigh in on July 5th, which will be my six-monthiversary of starting Slimming World and it will be great to say I've lost 4 stone in six months. But if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, I'll lose it eventually. I've got just over 4 months before I go to see Michael Nesmith in concert and I should be almost there by then. At least, I hope so.
Join me again on Friday when I'll bring you all the gossip from Slimming World, including how mum got on during her first week and hopefully news that I've reached my half-way point at last. The llamas should be on fine form. Miguel is still tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle, groaning slightly every now and again for effect, but Ricardo's friend Diego said that he'd happily stand in this week while Miguel's recouperating. I just hope Enrique can teach him the dance routine in time...!!
My apologies for a lack of update on Monday. I've been poorly. I've felt, well... gnarly. Just unnaturally exhausted, all the time. And dizzy. So flippin' dizzy. Kind of like I'm coming down with something but nothing's actually happening. You know those really annoying vague illnesses that make you feel like all hell but you can't exactly say what's wrong with you. So tired my fingertips hurt, frequently dizzy and nauseous, weird headaches that feel like my head's trapped in a vice... and I feel a right numpty going to the doctors and saying "I feel lousy, what the chuff's up with me?!"
Nevertheless, I did. Two days off work and I still felt rubbish. There was nothing else for it. Understandably, the doc was as stumped as I was and sent me for blood tests just to make sure my body isn't being taken over by aliens (because that's guaranteed to make anyone feel under the weather) or anything.
I've dragged myself back into work today and typically I feel even worse today than I did yesterday and Monday combined. What's a girl to do? If my boss provided sick pay I'd have taken the week off and actually managed to get some proper rest. Never mind. I'll live. I don't think it's possible to actually die of tiredness. Although if I'm wrong I want Fire by the Crazy World of Arthur Brown to be played at my cremation...
My plan this week is to lose 1 1/2 lbs. I dunno if I'll do it because, due to the fact I've felt like someone's pulled the plug out on me and replaced all my limbs with lead-lined cement blocks, I've been rather sedentary the last couple of days. Still, I've been pretty good on the lack of Synning front. I've been drinking heaps more water than usual and eaten loads of fruit and stuff. So I should be okay. I mean 1 1/2 lbs isn't exactly attempting to reach the unreachable. I mean if I'm being mammothly aspirational I'd like to have lost 8 1/2 lbs by my weigh in on July 5th, which will be my six-monthiversary of starting Slimming World and it will be great to say I've lost 4 stone in six months. But if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, I'll lose it eventually. I've got just over 4 months before I go to see Michael Nesmith in concert and I should be almost there by then. At least, I hope so.
Join me again on Friday when I'll bring you all the gossip from Slimming World, including how mum got on during her first week and hopefully news that I've reached my half-way point at last. The llamas should be on fine form. Miguel is still tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle, groaning slightly every now and again for effect, but Ricardo's friend Diego said that he'd happily stand in this week while Miguel's recouperating. I just hope Enrique can teach him the dance routine in time...!!
Friday, 1 June 2012
Land of Confusion
Ah, it's Friday! It means most of us in dear old Blighty will be looking forward to four whole days off work - with pay! However, it turns out I've got to work tomorrow, so I'll have three whole days off work, which is almost as good. And the weather has sorted itself out just in time for an epic bank holiday. Yes, that's right - gone are the sizzling tropical temperatures, the humid air, the old men traipsing round town just wearing a little pair of shorts and socks with sandals (why oh why?!) and the threat of a nice barbecue in the back garden. The air has regained the usual summertime nippiness we're used to, the skies are a sort of charcoal grey colour and the weather has been, as they call it in Spain (Joanna reliably tells me this, and she's very good at Spanish, so she should know) "El Pissi Downio". Ah, yes. British Summertime. It's back, and I love it.
So, things are going very well. I'd like to thank Anonymous for their lovely and very encouraging comment from Wednesday's blog. It turns out that my block lifted quite substantially after that lovely advice and some equally kind and helpful tips from Mr L. Although I've still not really got a plot together yet, I have indeed made a start on the Western (tentatively entitled The Western With No Name). Turns out it had no intention of ever being a book, it wanted to be a screenplay all along. Which in some ways is slightly easier, I'm much better with dialogue than narrative, but even though you only really need minimal narrative for a screenplay I still don't think I have enough. But I'll come back to it later when I've figured out more of a structure to the story. My biggest problem is that I want it to be instantly perfect, rather than just acknowledging that the first three or four rewrites are going to be ropey at best before I get it close to being right and writing it anyway. I bet Joss Whedon didn't write The Avengers perfectly on his first run-through!!
I know what you're thinking. 'She's avoiding the weight-loss topic'. Well, yes. I am.
I put half a pound on. I have no idea how. I was doing really well, I'd been dead good, I hadn't cheated (there's no point in cheating because the only person who suffers is me) - I was at least hoping for a couple of pounds' loss. Maybe even three. But putting half a pound on?! What the -?!?!!
Baffled. Stumped. Bamboozled. Flabbergasted. Discombobulated. Narked. All appropriate adjectives to describe my reaction to the number on the scales yesterday.
Enrique was quite relieved I'd put weight on. He's still convinced he has athlete's hoof from when I sent them swimming last Friday and has taken to his bed with bandages from hoof to fetlock on all four of his little legs. The rest of the llamas were delighted to have another week off and have all gone on a coach holiday to Blackpool for the weekend. If you're in the Blackpool area and come across a collective of llamas in gold lamee leg warmers, go and join them, they're a great bunch of lads!!
I mean, things aren't all bad news. I'm getting smaller. If I'm honest with myself about my original starting size (i.e. Beyond Huge. If there was a dress size that could be renamed "AY CHIHUAHA!!" that'd probably be where I was!), I've actually lost three dress sizes already and I'm probably only another stone away from hitting the fourth. So actually I've not done at all badly. It's just one of those things. Maybe it was just the way I held my gob when I stood on the scales. Who knows. I'm lots thinner than I was, and that's a fact. I just need to be... you know. Thinner than this. And I will be. This time in three months I might've lost another two sizes and then I'll be very nearly almost there.
You know what it'll involve, of course. I've been threatening it and then putting it off since January, but I am actually going to have to... I can't even bring myself to say it. You know, though. And I know. It's got to be done, there's truly nothing else for it. I have plans and extremely good intentions, I just have no willpower!! I hate running, walking round an industrial estate is no fun, and I'm just not disciplined enough to attempt any form of E***cise at home!! Gah!! That blasted E word. Why is it never fun?! If I could do the E word and not notice I was doing it, that'd be brilliant!
Ho hum.
Join me next Wednesday, if you don't mind. I'll be taking Monday off due to the Bank Holiday and I'll probably still be in a very dark state of depression following my birthday on Sunday. I get SO depressed on my birthday, there's literally no point in even acknowledging my existence, you'll only end up similarly suicidal! I don't want to be old! Don't make me!! Nooooo!!! PETER PAN NEVER HAD TO DO IT!!!
I dread to even think how I'll cope next year when I hit the big Three-Oh...!! *shudder*
So, things are going very well. I'd like to thank Anonymous for their lovely and very encouraging comment from Wednesday's blog. It turns out that my block lifted quite substantially after that lovely advice and some equally kind and helpful tips from Mr L. Although I've still not really got a plot together yet, I have indeed made a start on the Western (tentatively entitled The Western With No Name). Turns out it had no intention of ever being a book, it wanted to be a screenplay all along. Which in some ways is slightly easier, I'm much better with dialogue than narrative, but even though you only really need minimal narrative for a screenplay I still don't think I have enough. But I'll come back to it later when I've figured out more of a structure to the story. My biggest problem is that I want it to be instantly perfect, rather than just acknowledging that the first three or four rewrites are going to be ropey at best before I get it close to being right and writing it anyway. I bet Joss Whedon didn't write The Avengers perfectly on his first run-through!!
I know what you're thinking. 'She's avoiding the weight-loss topic'. Well, yes. I am.
I put half a pound on. I have no idea how. I was doing really well, I'd been dead good, I hadn't cheated (there's no point in cheating because the only person who suffers is me) - I was at least hoping for a couple of pounds' loss. Maybe even three. But putting half a pound on?! What the -?!?!!
Baffled. Stumped. Bamboozled. Flabbergasted. Discombobulated. Narked. All appropriate adjectives to describe my reaction to the number on the scales yesterday.
Enrique was quite relieved I'd put weight on. He's still convinced he has athlete's hoof from when I sent them swimming last Friday and has taken to his bed with bandages from hoof to fetlock on all four of his little legs. The rest of the llamas were delighted to have another week off and have all gone on a coach holiday to Blackpool for the weekend. If you're in the Blackpool area and come across a collective of llamas in gold lamee leg warmers, go and join them, they're a great bunch of lads!!
I mean, things aren't all bad news. I'm getting smaller. If I'm honest with myself about my original starting size (i.e. Beyond Huge. If there was a dress size that could be renamed "AY CHIHUAHA!!" that'd probably be where I was!), I've actually lost three dress sizes already and I'm probably only another stone away from hitting the fourth. So actually I've not done at all badly. It's just one of those things. Maybe it was just the way I held my gob when I stood on the scales. Who knows. I'm lots thinner than I was, and that's a fact. I just need to be... you know. Thinner than this. And I will be. This time in three months I might've lost another two sizes and then I'll be very nearly almost there.
You know what it'll involve, of course. I've been threatening it and then putting it off since January, but I am actually going to have to... I can't even bring myself to say it. You know, though. And I know. It's got to be done, there's truly nothing else for it. I have plans and extremely good intentions, I just have no willpower!! I hate running, walking round an industrial estate is no fun, and I'm just not disciplined enough to attempt any form of E***cise at home!! Gah!! That blasted E word. Why is it never fun?! If I could do the E word and not notice I was doing it, that'd be brilliant!
Ho hum.
Join me next Wednesday, if you don't mind. I'll be taking Monday off due to the Bank Holiday and I'll probably still be in a very dark state of depression following my birthday on Sunday. I get SO depressed on my birthday, there's literally no point in even acknowledging my existence, you'll only end up similarly suicidal! I don't want to be old! Don't make me!! Nooooo!!! PETER PAN NEVER HAD TO DO IT!!!
I dread to even think how I'll cope next year when I hit the big Three-Oh...!! *shudder*
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Continuing
Title © Robert Michael Nesmith, from the 1973 album Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash.
OOF!
It's been a hectic few days to say the least. I think I've driven around the world and back in the last 48 hours. I've been driving in my sleep! Not literally, folks - it's dangerous and definitely not recommended practice for anyone to try at home. Or even on the road.
You probably have heard me lament about the fact I don't have a car any more, but circumstances dictated the need for me to get one quick sharp yesterday. Apparently trying to squeeze 8 people into a 5-seater car is a bit too much to ask of any vehicle. So I hired a car for the day. It was gorgeous. Even before I closed the door and got my seat belt on, I was in love. I called him Stirling (yes, all my cars are boys, and yes, I name them all. What of it? I had a gay Kia Picanto called Buttercup once!), after Craig Stirling from The Champions. I'm in a bit of a Champions phase at the moment, and although I'm a Richard Barrett girl, Craig is pretty easy on the eye and a bit smooth - plus the fact the car was silver, so it sort of had to be Stirling. He suited it. I gave him back this morning. I nearly cried.
I think I've alluded to the fact something big has happened in the Wainwright family over the last couple of weeks but I haven't actually explained myself. However, to bring you all up to speed - my cousin, David, sadly passed away after a very short illness a couple of weeks ago. It came as a huge shock to the entire family. From what I understand, he was right as rain on the Saturday, felt a little poorly on Sunday, felt a little worse on Monday, was in the Critical Care Unit on Tuesday and died on the Friday. I mean - really. Shock. It was his funeral yesterday and two of my cousins came up from London for the event. It's always lovely to spend time with Gill and Angela, especially with the big sister too - we're all more than relatives, we're really good friends and we have such a great laugh together, it's just a shame the circumstances were so horrid this time.
I don't want to dwell on the day, although it was lovely to see so many family members, there's never anything nice about funerals and you don't really want to know the ins and outs of the day's events. However, there was a huge turnout for him - there were well over 100 people there, and even though we're a huge family (more than a family - a clan. Maybe even a country. Wainwrightia!), there were a lot of friends and former colleagues etc that turned up too.
I thought that was a really lovely testament to David's life. Everyone who ever came into contact with him during his life couldn't help but love him. He was a sweet, gentle soul, who adored his wife and his two gorgeous girls more than anything else. Some people come into this world and invent things, or develop ideas, or write something or draw something or create the most exquisite music or most thought-provoking, life-changing film that becomes timeless - but when those people die, people remember the things they achieved with great fondness, but remember the person with significant coolness, disdain or even hatred. David might not have re-invented the wheel or anything so grand as that, but he made people happier just for knowing him, and there's really no greater legacy any of us can leave than to have people say about us, "That person was one of the nicest people I ever knew," or "I'm really going to miss their smile/hugs/laugh." We'll all miss those things about David.
Incidentally, and now on another note entirely, my apologies for not posting on Monday. It had been a rather eventful weekend due to my sister's altercation with a bottle of hair dye - and although I was really looking forward to dramatising the whole sorry affair for you all, sadly I had about five trillion tapes to type up at work so that I could have yesterday off so I just didn't get time. But I'm back now, and please don't think my lack of posting on Monday was a lack of dedication to the blogging/dieting cause. Oh no. Far from it, my eyes are firmly fixed on the prize and I'm back on the straight and narrow with a vengeance. Admittedly, I did go slightly over my Syns limit on Saturday but I've been very good the rest of the time and have had far fewer Syns than the recommended 15 so I think it'll balance out. I might maintain this week or possibly even lose a tiny bit of weight. I'm hoping for 2lbs. Dunno if I'll get it but so long as I don't put any on it'll be all right!
Join me again on Friday, after The Big Weigh-In, when hopefully the llamas will have all come up with a lovely new dance routine for you all to join in with the dancing and shake your maracas while shimmying around the living room/office/kitchen/bedroom/wherever you read this from!!
In the immortal words of Bill & Ted - Be Excellent to Each Other.
OOF!
It's been a hectic few days to say the least. I think I've driven around the world and back in the last 48 hours. I've been driving in my sleep! Not literally, folks - it's dangerous and definitely not recommended practice for anyone to try at home. Or even on the road.
You probably have heard me lament about the fact I don't have a car any more, but circumstances dictated the need for me to get one quick sharp yesterday. Apparently trying to squeeze 8 people into a 5-seater car is a bit too much to ask of any vehicle. So I hired a car for the day. It was gorgeous. Even before I closed the door and got my seat belt on, I was in love. I called him Stirling (yes, all my cars are boys, and yes, I name them all. What of it? I had a gay Kia Picanto called Buttercup once!), after Craig Stirling from The Champions. I'm in a bit of a Champions phase at the moment, and although I'm a Richard Barrett girl, Craig is pretty easy on the eye and a bit smooth - plus the fact the car was silver, so it sort of had to be Stirling. He suited it. I gave him back this morning. I nearly cried.
I think I've alluded to the fact something big has happened in the Wainwright family over the last couple of weeks but I haven't actually explained myself. However, to bring you all up to speed - my cousin, David, sadly passed away after a very short illness a couple of weeks ago. It came as a huge shock to the entire family. From what I understand, he was right as rain on the Saturday, felt a little poorly on Sunday, felt a little worse on Monday, was in the Critical Care Unit on Tuesday and died on the Friday. I mean - really. Shock. It was his funeral yesterday and two of my cousins came up from London for the event. It's always lovely to spend time with Gill and Angela, especially with the big sister too - we're all more than relatives, we're really good friends and we have such a great laugh together, it's just a shame the circumstances were so horrid this time.
I don't want to dwell on the day, although it was lovely to see so many family members, there's never anything nice about funerals and you don't really want to know the ins and outs of the day's events. However, there was a huge turnout for him - there were well over 100 people there, and even though we're a huge family (more than a family - a clan. Maybe even a country. Wainwrightia!), there were a lot of friends and former colleagues etc that turned up too.
I thought that was a really lovely testament to David's life. Everyone who ever came into contact with him during his life couldn't help but love him. He was a sweet, gentle soul, who adored his wife and his two gorgeous girls more than anything else. Some people come into this world and invent things, or develop ideas, or write something or draw something or create the most exquisite music or most thought-provoking, life-changing film that becomes timeless - but when those people die, people remember the things they achieved with great fondness, but remember the person with significant coolness, disdain or even hatred. David might not have re-invented the wheel or anything so grand as that, but he made people happier just for knowing him, and there's really no greater legacy any of us can leave than to have people say about us, "That person was one of the nicest people I ever knew," or "I'm really going to miss their smile/hugs/laugh." We'll all miss those things about David.
Incidentally, and now on another note entirely, my apologies for not posting on Monday. It had been a rather eventful weekend due to my sister's altercation with a bottle of hair dye - and although I was really looking forward to dramatising the whole sorry affair for you all, sadly I had about five trillion tapes to type up at work so that I could have yesterday off so I just didn't get time. But I'm back now, and please don't think my lack of posting on Monday was a lack of dedication to the blogging/dieting cause. Oh no. Far from it, my eyes are firmly fixed on the prize and I'm back on the straight and narrow with a vengeance. Admittedly, I did go slightly over my Syns limit on Saturday but I've been very good the rest of the time and have had far fewer Syns than the recommended 15 so I think it'll balance out. I might maintain this week or possibly even lose a tiny bit of weight. I'm hoping for 2lbs. Dunno if I'll get it but so long as I don't put any on it'll be all right!
Join me again on Friday, after The Big Weigh-In, when hopefully the llamas will have all come up with a lovely new dance routine for you all to join in with the dancing and shake your maracas while shimmying around the living room/office/kitchen/bedroom/wherever you read this from!!
In the immortal words of Bill & Ted - Be Excellent to Each Other.
Friday, 18 May 2012
Wham, Bam, Thank You, Scales!
All right, all right, I've calmed down, I've stopped whooping and cartwheeling around the living room long enough to write my Friday blog.
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Clothes Horse
This is it, folks. This is what 'back on track' looks like. A Wednesday blog and being on course for a three-post week. I'm on fire! Not literally, don't worry.
I've got back onto the green tea, I've started eating more fruit and I've kept myself to below 10 Syns per day. If I don't see at least some improvement by Friday I'll throw the blasted new scales out the window - don't try and stop me!! I may be skinnier now but I've still got the strength of a girl nearly three stone heavier than me...!! Grr!
I sort of feel like I've been a bit of an in-between size for the last couple of months. I reckon I've got about another stone to lose before I get back into my old clothes. There are two items of clothing that I'm desperate to be able to wear again - a black pinstripe shirt dress and a dogtooth skirt suit, both of which are a size 18. I'm a lot closer to both than I was five months ago, which is great. At the moment I'm wearing clothes far too big for me because I'm still trying to put off that clothes shopping trip that I know will be looming at some juncture. I'll wait. All my clothes are already at least one size too big for me, one more won't hurt. I'll go shopping when I'm officially thin enough to throw *all* my old clothes out. Or at least the majority of them. I know that sounds very wasteful, but honestly, my clothes are all so old and battered, if I sent them to the third world, they'd send 'em back with a note saying, "What do you think we are, a charity?" Cancer Research UK would blacklist me if I left any of my clothes at one of their charity shops.
At the moment I've only got one skirt, it's probably two sizes too big and when I first slimmed into it it was just above my knee. It's now halfway down my shin. It does look ridiculous. I will sort it out one day, honestly. I just want to get there first. As soon as I'm comfortably into a size 18 I'll cheerfully bin my fat clothes, get myself down the high street, walk in with my head held high and bypass the Fat Person's Clothes section and buy something that actually looks nice and not like a misshapen sack with a token handful of sequins in a feeble attempt at making a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Oh, how I long for that day!
Seriously, if anyone wants to come with me to help me , that'd be great. Send all applications to the usual address and in no more than 20 words, complete the sentence, "I should take Spev clothes shopping for skinny person clothes because..." I'll even treat you to a coffee and a slice of cake from Costa while we're out by way of a thank you!
Join me on Friday when hopefully I'll at least have boxed off most of that pesky 3 1/2 lbs that's keeping me from reaching my 3 stone target. With any luck the llamas will have come up with a lovely dance routine and we can all have a great time shaking our maracas together!! Arriba!!
I've got back onto the green tea, I've started eating more fruit and I've kept myself to below 10 Syns per day. If I don't see at least some improvement by Friday I'll throw the blasted new scales out the window - don't try and stop me!! I may be skinnier now but I've still got the strength of a girl nearly three stone heavier than me...!! Grr!
I sort of feel like I've been a bit of an in-between size for the last couple of months. I reckon I've got about another stone to lose before I get back into my old clothes. There are two items of clothing that I'm desperate to be able to wear again - a black pinstripe shirt dress and a dogtooth skirt suit, both of which are a size 18. I'm a lot closer to both than I was five months ago, which is great. At the moment I'm wearing clothes far too big for me because I'm still trying to put off that clothes shopping trip that I know will be looming at some juncture. I'll wait. All my clothes are already at least one size too big for me, one more won't hurt. I'll go shopping when I'm officially thin enough to throw *all* my old clothes out. Or at least the majority of them. I know that sounds very wasteful, but honestly, my clothes are all so old and battered, if I sent them to the third world, they'd send 'em back with a note saying, "What do you think we are, a charity?" Cancer Research UK would blacklist me if I left any of my clothes at one of their charity shops.
At the moment I've only got one skirt, it's probably two sizes too big and when I first slimmed into it it was just above my knee. It's now halfway down my shin. It does look ridiculous. I will sort it out one day, honestly. I just want to get there first. As soon as I'm comfortably into a size 18 I'll cheerfully bin my fat clothes, get myself down the high street, walk in with my head held high and bypass the Fat Person's Clothes section and buy something that actually looks nice and not like a misshapen sack with a token handful of sequins in a feeble attempt at making a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Oh, how I long for that day!
Seriously, if anyone wants to come with me to help me , that'd be great. Send all applications to the usual address and in no more than 20 words, complete the sentence, "I should take Spev clothes shopping for skinny person clothes because..." I'll even treat you to a coffee and a slice of cake from Costa while we're out by way of a thank you!
Join me on Friday when hopefully I'll at least have boxed off most of that pesky 3 1/2 lbs that's keeping me from reaching my 3 stone target. With any luck the llamas will have come up with a lovely dance routine and we can all have a great time shaking our maracas together!! Arriba!!
Monday, 14 May 2012
Guess Who's Back...
Hello, hello, hello!!
I'm sorry I failed on the blogging front last week. Last week was horrible. Please can we pretend it didn't happen? That would totally work for me. I know the whole purpose of the blog was to be some sort of personal therapy when times got tough as well as the chroncling of joys and euphoria when times were good - but there are reasonable limits to everything. My head is feeling really rather screwed up at the moment. Life with the Wainwrights just hasn't been the kind of thing anyone would want to blog about for the last seven days.
Aside from the stuff you don't want to know about, on Thursday's weigh-in it turned out that I had put half a pound on. The llamas were extremely disappointed. I didn't pack them off to Magaluf again this week, but Enrique did say that if I have a good result this week he'd choreograph an extra special fiesta for me. What more incentive do I need?!
My slimming mojo seems to have vanished since the Debacle of the Scales. It's ridiculous. I know it's only a little thing but it's really just thrown me off-balance - no pun intended. Just when I'd finally started to think I could really do this and I could finally start looking like a person rather than an orb with feet, it was a huge knock I wasn't prepared for. Andrea the Consultant has got a lot to answer for. I am seriously lacking in confidence now, and being slimmer now feels more like a pipe dream again than the achievable goal it had started to become.
I'm not going to get my target of reaching my half-way point by my birthday. Or at least, if I do, it'll be a miracle. I know that now, and I suppose knowing that has taken a bit of pressure off, but the best I can do is to try and get as close to it as possible by then. I've still got three weigh-ins to go. Who knows. It might happen. I'm being really tough this week. I've got 3 1/2 lbs to go before I get my 3 stone boxed off and if I don't do it this week - or certainly the week after, I'll be completely gutted.
On the plus side, everyone buy my best friend Nathan's album when it comes out in a couple of weeks. Not only is he incredibly talented, makes amazing music and is, indeed, my favourite man since creation - I wrote the liner notes!!! Wahoo! I knew I'd see my name in print somewhere this year. Now I just need to get rid of this fershlugginer Writer's Block on The Phantom Winger. I've been advised to write the end first. I don't know how I feel about this, I think it might be a bad idea. Although I might start from mid-way in the third chapter, I'm only about five or six paragraphs away from breaking the block.
Actually, you know what, first of all I think I just want the world to stop spinning so flipping quickly for five minutes and let me get my head together before I go any further with anything...!!
I'm sorry I failed on the blogging front last week. Last week was horrible. Please can we pretend it didn't happen? That would totally work for me. I know the whole purpose of the blog was to be some sort of personal therapy when times got tough as well as the chroncling of joys and euphoria when times were good - but there are reasonable limits to everything. My head is feeling really rather screwed up at the moment. Life with the Wainwrights just hasn't been the kind of thing anyone would want to blog about for the last seven days.
Aside from the stuff you don't want to know about, on Thursday's weigh-in it turned out that I had put half a pound on. The llamas were extremely disappointed. I didn't pack them off to Magaluf again this week, but Enrique did say that if I have a good result this week he'd choreograph an extra special fiesta for me. What more incentive do I need?!
My slimming mojo seems to have vanished since the Debacle of the Scales. It's ridiculous. I know it's only a little thing but it's really just thrown me off-balance - no pun intended. Just when I'd finally started to think I could really do this and I could finally start looking like a person rather than an orb with feet, it was a huge knock I wasn't prepared for. Andrea the Consultant has got a lot to answer for. I am seriously lacking in confidence now, and being slimmer now feels more like a pipe dream again than the achievable goal it had started to become.
I'm not going to get my target of reaching my half-way point by my birthday. Or at least, if I do, it'll be a miracle. I know that now, and I suppose knowing that has taken a bit of pressure off, but the best I can do is to try and get as close to it as possible by then. I've still got three weigh-ins to go. Who knows. It might happen. I'm being really tough this week. I've got 3 1/2 lbs to go before I get my 3 stone boxed off and if I don't do it this week - or certainly the week after, I'll be completely gutted.
On the plus side, everyone buy my best friend Nathan's album when it comes out in a couple of weeks. Not only is he incredibly talented, makes amazing music and is, indeed, my favourite man since creation - I wrote the liner notes!!! Wahoo! I knew I'd see my name in print somewhere this year. Now I just need to get rid of this fershlugginer Writer's Block on The Phantom Winger. I've been advised to write the end first. I don't know how I feel about this, I think it might be a bad idea. Although I might start from mid-way in the third chapter, I'm only about five or six paragraphs away from breaking the block.
Actually, you know what, first of all I think I just want the world to stop spinning so flipping quickly for five minutes and let me get my head together before I go any further with anything...!!
Friday, 27 April 2012
"...You Won't Like Me When I'm Angry..."
You do not know - you cannot possibly even begin to comprehend how much I was looking forward to yesterday, because I can't put that much excitement into words. I've been counting down the sleeps since about 60. I never thought that longed-for day would ever arrive, but then yesterday, it did.
The Avengers - Earth's Mightiest Heroes - finally Assembled. The sister and I went to the epicentre of small-town Lancashire, if not the universe (Preston), to see it. More on that later. I know I said I wouldn't turn into an hysterical wreck, but... to be honest, I had no other cause for celebration. There were plans for Southport but, despite me having such very high hopes for the day, not much turned out as planned.
I left work early so I could go to the 5:30p.m. weigh in and then go to Southport with Jo for a nice bit of a nosh-up at Nandos pre-film. But I hadn't reckoned on rush hour traffic on Golden Hill Lane in Leyland. My plans were ruined, so we decided that I'd get weighed early for the 7:30p.m. weigh in and we'd go to Preston instead and get KFC - it's the only savoury thing I've really craved and I haven't had it since last June when I went to see X-Men First Class. And as last week's plan of overindulging didn't go to plan, I thought I'd definitely be able to sin like mad with some well-deserved fast food.
I turned up at the Church Hall at about 7:20p.m. all full of hope - and was a bit peturbed to find that there was uproar in the group. Trouble at t'Mill, you might say. Everyone was angry. There was shouting, there was a lot of, "This is a [flipping] joke!" There was even a bit of, "That's it, I'm not wasting my time on this [nonsense] any more! Forget it! Shove your [blooming] weight loss regime!" It's a family-friendly blog, I had to censor the level of uproar!
I was, quite frankly, puzzled. Normally our group is very cheerful and happy and nobody's too grumpy at all. It's all really quite chilled out. Everyone usually has a bit of a giggle if they put weight on. Last night, however, was different. Quite, quite different. It looked like there was going to be a riot of some sort.
When I got to the weigh-in point, I asked the lady at the scales what was going on, and it turned out that Andrea the Consultant, in her infinite wisdom, had decided that the scales she's been using since time immemorial were weighing too light and so she'd bought new ones, which were weighing a bit heavy - so everyone had seemed to put weight on. The lady before me had apparently put 6 1/2 lbs on. There was fury. Real, proper anger.
I crossed my fingers, hoped for the best and got on the scales.
Apparently, despite the fact I'd done nothing differently during the past seven days and had eaten sensibly, done a bit of exercise and generally followed the same procedure that I have always done - I've put 3lbs on.
This is a nonsense. The red mist officially descended. I was livid. My blood pressure almost hit 200. I might've gone green, shot up in height and turned into an inarticulate rage monster. I very very nearly did. I ranted, I raved, I pointed out that we depend on the accuracy of the scales and we all spend good money each week on making sure that the equipment we need is there for us. Even if the scales themselves were inaccurate, the increments of weight loss should be reliable. Then I stormed out with some women who said they would never again darken the doorstep.
I just said I was going to the pictures and was quite noncommital about my proposed whereabouts for next week. I still don't know what to do.
Psychologically, she's done a really stupid thing to everyone. She has two classes and all members of both groups were furious with her - and I would feel sorry for her, but why would you do that to people? I mean, why? Seriously. But there's nothing we can do about it, she's not likely to change the scales back, and even if she did - next week wouldn't read right either because we've already been weighed on a different pair of scales. Basically - the thing not to do when you're a slimming consultant, I think, is to change from a pair of scales that allegdly 'weigh light' to a pair of scales that clearly 'weigh heavy' without giving anyone any prior warning. Just saying.
I know it only sounds like a little thing, but it isn't to me. I mean, I have worked really hard for this, and so's Jo with all her genius cooking, and so have all of you just by encouraging me to keep going and it really feels like the one person who shouldn't have pulled the rug from under me has done. It's like the goalposts have been moved on her whim, that whatever achievement I've celebrated I haven't been entitled to because the scales were wrong all along. I genuinely don't know what to think now. At this stage I'm really not sure if I want to go back to that group or not. It isn't just me she's let down, it's everybody. There will be a lot of grumpy fat people in Leyland today. More than usual.
Needless to say, I came home and immediately sent the llamas off for a well deserved break to Magaluf. Ricardo was very excited, Miguel decided he'd take fashion tips from Javier (the quiet one) and buy a bandana while he's out there, and Enrique had a panic attack because he didn't have time to do any practice packing. They'll need the rest. Perhaps they'll be back next week.
So, after bursting into tears and contemplating a longish trip to the roof of Argos followed by a short one down, we went to the cinema via KFC. I could practically feel my arteries hardening when I ordered! I didn't feel too bad. I had Diet Coke with it. Anyway. It was lovely and I really wasn't in the mood to think about my waistline.
The one thing I won't do is give away any spoilers for the film. Seriously. None. Not even non-plot related ones. All I'll say is this. I read practically every single article, watched every single interview, watched all the trailers, all the preview scenes, and generally obsessed like a loony over the film before it was released. When I did finally get to see it, nothing that I'd previously seen or read prepared me for it. It was absolutely incredible. There were thrills, spills, action, adventure, drama, some real belly laughs and a couple of really quite emotional moments. There were so many geeky comic book references, I was absolutely delighted. I developed an instant girl crush on Black Widow. She's just... Agh. I want to be her when I grow up. Or even just one tenth as kick-ass.
The one character I really wasn't looking forward to seeing was The Incredible Hulk. Not because I don't like him - I mean, a geeky scientific genius who happens to be notoriously grumpy, what's not to like about that?! But Edward Norton is my favourite actor of the modern age (James Stewart is my actual favourite actor of all time), and he has been for about 15 years, and it isn't because he's rather easy on the eye, it's because even though I haven't always liked all the films he's been in (take my advice, never watch a film called Down in the Valley. You won't get those two hours back!), I've always believed completely in every performance he's ever given. He's just an exceptionally talented man. I absolutely adored his performance as Bruce Banner in the last incarnation of The Incredible Hulk, and I was so gutted that he wasn't going to reprise that role in the Avengers that I really wasn't interested in whatever anyone else thought they might have to bring to the role. My attitude was very narrow-minded and sort of, "Huh! Mark Ruffalo? Who is he anyway? He's no Norton! He'll be rubbish. What the hell are Marvel playing at?!" etc etc. Well. I well and truly had my words forced back down my throat during the film. He was an absolute revalation, and, I have to admit it, he was actually far better than Edward Norton.
(If anyone was wondering when I was going to mention him - hell yes, it seriously is ALL about Hawkeye... *gazes off distractedly*)
Seriously, if you've been looking forward to it, forget absolutely all of your preconceptions and think bigger. It's like no superhero film you've ever seen before. I'm going to completely go out on a limb here and say it's my favourite ever superhero film, and by that I do include my beloved Spider-Man 2. It's more than just a great superhero film, it's simply a great film. There's something in it for everyone. It's amazing.
So, join me next week, when I should have calmed down from the hysteria of the film, and the red mist from the ridiculous weigh-in should have lifted by then too, when I'm sure I'll find something else to talk about...!!
The Avengers - Earth's Mightiest Heroes - finally Assembled. The sister and I went to the epicentre of small-town Lancashire, if not the universe (Preston), to see it. More on that later. I know I said I wouldn't turn into an hysterical wreck, but... to be honest, I had no other cause for celebration. There were plans for Southport but, despite me having such very high hopes for the day, not much turned out as planned.
I left work early so I could go to the 5:30p.m. weigh in and then go to Southport with Jo for a nice bit of a nosh-up at Nandos pre-film. But I hadn't reckoned on rush hour traffic on Golden Hill Lane in Leyland. My plans were ruined, so we decided that I'd get weighed early for the 7:30p.m. weigh in and we'd go to Preston instead and get KFC - it's the only savoury thing I've really craved and I haven't had it since last June when I went to see X-Men First Class. And as last week's plan of overindulging didn't go to plan, I thought I'd definitely be able to sin like mad with some well-deserved fast food.
I turned up at the Church Hall at about 7:20p.m. all full of hope - and was a bit peturbed to find that there was uproar in the group. Trouble at t'Mill, you might say. Everyone was angry. There was shouting, there was a lot of, "This is a [flipping] joke!" There was even a bit of, "That's it, I'm not wasting my time on this [nonsense] any more! Forget it! Shove your [blooming] weight loss regime!" It's a family-friendly blog, I had to censor the level of uproar!
I was, quite frankly, puzzled. Normally our group is very cheerful and happy and nobody's too grumpy at all. It's all really quite chilled out. Everyone usually has a bit of a giggle if they put weight on. Last night, however, was different. Quite, quite different. It looked like there was going to be a riot of some sort.
When I got to the weigh-in point, I asked the lady at the scales what was going on, and it turned out that Andrea the Consultant, in her infinite wisdom, had decided that the scales she's been using since time immemorial were weighing too light and so she'd bought new ones, which were weighing a bit heavy - so everyone had seemed to put weight on. The lady before me had apparently put 6 1/2 lbs on. There was fury. Real, proper anger.
I crossed my fingers, hoped for the best and got on the scales.
Apparently, despite the fact I'd done nothing differently during the past seven days and had eaten sensibly, done a bit of exercise and generally followed the same procedure that I have always done - I've put 3lbs on.
This is a nonsense. The red mist officially descended. I was livid. My blood pressure almost hit 200. I might've gone green, shot up in height and turned into an inarticulate rage monster. I very very nearly did. I ranted, I raved, I pointed out that we depend on the accuracy of the scales and we all spend good money each week on making sure that the equipment we need is there for us. Even if the scales themselves were inaccurate, the increments of weight loss should be reliable. Then I stormed out with some women who said they would never again darken the doorstep.
I just said I was going to the pictures and was quite noncommital about my proposed whereabouts for next week. I still don't know what to do.
Psychologically, she's done a really stupid thing to everyone. She has two classes and all members of both groups were furious with her - and I would feel sorry for her, but why would you do that to people? I mean, why? Seriously. But there's nothing we can do about it, she's not likely to change the scales back, and even if she did - next week wouldn't read right either because we've already been weighed on a different pair of scales. Basically - the thing not to do when you're a slimming consultant, I think, is to change from a pair of scales that allegdly 'weigh light' to a pair of scales that clearly 'weigh heavy' without giving anyone any prior warning. Just saying.
I know it only sounds like a little thing, but it isn't to me. I mean, I have worked really hard for this, and so's Jo with all her genius cooking, and so have all of you just by encouraging me to keep going and it really feels like the one person who shouldn't have pulled the rug from under me has done. It's like the goalposts have been moved on her whim, that whatever achievement I've celebrated I haven't been entitled to because the scales were wrong all along. I genuinely don't know what to think now. At this stage I'm really not sure if I want to go back to that group or not. It isn't just me she's let down, it's everybody. There will be a lot of grumpy fat people in Leyland today. More than usual.
Needless to say, I came home and immediately sent the llamas off for a well deserved break to Magaluf. Ricardo was very excited, Miguel decided he'd take fashion tips from Javier (the quiet one) and buy a bandana while he's out there, and Enrique had a panic attack because he didn't have time to do any practice packing. They'll need the rest. Perhaps they'll be back next week.
So, after bursting into tears and contemplating a longish trip to the roof of Argos followed by a short one down, we went to the cinema via KFC. I could practically feel my arteries hardening when I ordered! I didn't feel too bad. I had Diet Coke with it. Anyway. It was lovely and I really wasn't in the mood to think about my waistline.
The one thing I won't do is give away any spoilers for the film. Seriously. None. Not even non-plot related ones. All I'll say is this. I read practically every single article, watched every single interview, watched all the trailers, all the preview scenes, and generally obsessed like a loony over the film before it was released. When I did finally get to see it, nothing that I'd previously seen or read prepared me for it. It was absolutely incredible. There were thrills, spills, action, adventure, drama, some real belly laughs and a couple of really quite emotional moments. There were so many geeky comic book references, I was absolutely delighted. I developed an instant girl crush on Black Widow. She's just... Agh. I want to be her when I grow up. Or even just one tenth as kick-ass.
The one character I really wasn't looking forward to seeing was The Incredible Hulk. Not because I don't like him - I mean, a geeky scientific genius who happens to be notoriously grumpy, what's not to like about that?! But Edward Norton is my favourite actor of the modern age (James Stewart is my actual favourite actor of all time), and he has been for about 15 years, and it isn't because he's rather easy on the eye, it's because even though I haven't always liked all the films he's been in (take my advice, never watch a film called Down in the Valley. You won't get those two hours back!), I've always believed completely in every performance he's ever given. He's just an exceptionally talented man. I absolutely adored his performance as Bruce Banner in the last incarnation of The Incredible Hulk, and I was so gutted that he wasn't going to reprise that role in the Avengers that I really wasn't interested in whatever anyone else thought they might have to bring to the role. My attitude was very narrow-minded and sort of, "Huh! Mark Ruffalo? Who is he anyway? He's no Norton! He'll be rubbish. What the hell are Marvel playing at?!" etc etc. Well. I well and truly had my words forced back down my throat during the film. He was an absolute revalation, and, I have to admit it, he was actually far better than Edward Norton.
(If anyone was wondering when I was going to mention him - hell yes, it seriously is ALL about Hawkeye... *gazes off distractedly*)
Seriously, if you've been looking forward to it, forget absolutely all of your preconceptions and think bigger. It's like no superhero film you've ever seen before. I'm going to completely go out on a limb here and say it's my favourite ever superhero film, and by that I do include my beloved Spider-Man 2. It's more than just a great superhero film, it's simply a great film. There's something in it for everyone. It's amazing.
So, join me next week, when I should have calmed down from the hysteria of the film, and the red mist from the ridiculous weigh-in should have lifted by then too, when I'm sure I'll find something else to talk about...!!
Friday, 20 April 2012
Turned Out Nice Again
So. It's all been a bit boring this week, as previously documented. I've still not overeaten. I still can't really be bothered having any treats. Nothing exciting has happened.
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
I Wish I Had Something to Say
This is my problem, folks, and I would like to start by way of an apology for no blog on Monday. I'm just out of stuff to talk about at the moment. I've even got writer's block on my blog.
It's difficult to find new things to say when you're only really blogging about one thing. I had a few complaints when I wrote about the stuff I was writing, that nobody was actually interested in that - and that's fair enough, I completely understand that. The actual, physical, sitting-down-and-typing aspects of writing are extremely boring indeed. Writing only rates a 'meh' on the Rock'n'Roll Artistic Scale, after all. It isn't instantaneous enough. I bore myself about it, so I dread to think how many people I've sent to sleep over my updates on things I'm writing!
So, really, the whole purpose of this blog has been to keep me encouraged while I lose weight. Losing weight, it turns out, is probably the only thing more boring than writing.
This is my mindset on the weight loss front: I need to lose weight. I am losing weight. I am doing this by eating more healthy stuff and eating less rubbish. I have cut out full-sugar Coca-Cola and replaced it with sugar free stuff. I've cut down my alcohol intake massively. I do a bit of exercise where I can and when I can be bothered.
When it comes to chocolate and pizza and beer and crisps and all the things that make life worth living - I will have those things. I will. When I've lost the weight. If I get a craving for something, I think about something else. I'm very tough with myself and I don't mind that because I know *eventually* it will be worth it and any self-deprivation is only temporary. It comes down to this - I would rather be able to fit into lovely clothes than eat chocolate. When I'm thinner I'll be able to fit into lovely clothes AND eat chocolate - so if I have to miss out for 8-10 months, that's fine by me.
A lot of people have asked me if I'm proud of myself for nearly losing 2 1/2 stone. I'm not. I'll be happy when it's over and when I've done it. But at the moment I just want to get there. There's no point in being proud of myself when I haven't actually achieved anything yet. I haven't given up, which is good. But that's probably about it.
Having said that, I am so happy that so many people are proud of me, and that everyone's saying such lovely things about my progress so far. It helps to keep me going more than any of you realise. It isn't just me I'll be letting down if I don't do it this time - it's family, friends, complete strangers who have started reading the blog - and not forgetting the llamas! Ricardo will be heartbroken! It's pressure, but it's a nice pressure, and one that I'm very grateful for. I love that people care about me enough to talk to me about it and ask me questions about how I'm getting on and how I'm feeling. Focussed. That's how I'm feeling. I've still got my game face on for this thing. I'm going to do it. Even if it takes longer than I'd like, I'm going to do it. I've had enough of feeling physically sick every time I walk past a reflective surface and get a glimpse of myself.
So, nothing to worry about really. Everything's okay - but nothing's happened that requires reporting on. Everything's still the same, I'm still attempting to go forward in the war on obesity. I've got a bit of writer's block which is really annoying me, but it'll clear eventually. I'm not stuck to a deadline or anything. In short, and for a person with nothing to say, I do realise this blog entry's gone on for about a year - although I'm absolutely fine and there's nothing the matter and I'm not about to go out and consume my body weight in fried chicken, I'm just feeling a bit nothing-ish at the moment. But it's just a blip and I'll get over it.
I promise I'll be less miserable and grumpy next time - so please join me again on Friday. Hopefully I'll have got the 2 1/2 stone shiny sticker and certificate by then and the llamas will put on a fiesta that will blow your minds!!
It's difficult to find new things to say when you're only really blogging about one thing. I had a few complaints when I wrote about the stuff I was writing, that nobody was actually interested in that - and that's fair enough, I completely understand that. The actual, physical, sitting-down-and-typing aspects of writing are extremely boring indeed. Writing only rates a 'meh' on the Rock'n'Roll Artistic Scale, after all. It isn't instantaneous enough. I bore myself about it, so I dread to think how many people I've sent to sleep over my updates on things I'm writing!
So, really, the whole purpose of this blog has been to keep me encouraged while I lose weight. Losing weight, it turns out, is probably the only thing more boring than writing.
This is my mindset on the weight loss front: I need to lose weight. I am losing weight. I am doing this by eating more healthy stuff and eating less rubbish. I have cut out full-sugar Coca-Cola and replaced it with sugar free stuff. I've cut down my alcohol intake massively. I do a bit of exercise where I can and when I can be bothered.
When it comes to chocolate and pizza and beer and crisps and all the things that make life worth living - I will have those things. I will. When I've lost the weight. If I get a craving for something, I think about something else. I'm very tough with myself and I don't mind that because I know *eventually* it will be worth it and any self-deprivation is only temporary. It comes down to this - I would rather be able to fit into lovely clothes than eat chocolate. When I'm thinner I'll be able to fit into lovely clothes AND eat chocolate - so if I have to miss out for 8-10 months, that's fine by me.
A lot of people have asked me if I'm proud of myself for nearly losing 2 1/2 stone. I'm not. I'll be happy when it's over and when I've done it. But at the moment I just want to get there. There's no point in being proud of myself when I haven't actually achieved anything yet. I haven't given up, which is good. But that's probably about it.
Having said that, I am so happy that so many people are proud of me, and that everyone's saying such lovely things about my progress so far. It helps to keep me going more than any of you realise. It isn't just me I'll be letting down if I don't do it this time - it's family, friends, complete strangers who have started reading the blog - and not forgetting the llamas! Ricardo will be heartbroken! It's pressure, but it's a nice pressure, and one that I'm very grateful for. I love that people care about me enough to talk to me about it and ask me questions about how I'm getting on and how I'm feeling. Focussed. That's how I'm feeling. I've still got my game face on for this thing. I'm going to do it. Even if it takes longer than I'd like, I'm going to do it. I've had enough of feeling physically sick every time I walk past a reflective surface and get a glimpse of myself.
So, nothing to worry about really. Everything's okay - but nothing's happened that requires reporting on. Everything's still the same, I'm still attempting to go forward in the war on obesity. I've got a bit of writer's block which is really annoying me, but it'll clear eventually. I'm not stuck to a deadline or anything. In short, and for a person with nothing to say, I do realise this blog entry's gone on for about a year - although I'm absolutely fine and there's nothing the matter and I'm not about to go out and consume my body weight in fried chicken, I'm just feeling a bit nothing-ish at the moment. But it's just a blip and I'll get over it.
I promise I'll be less miserable and grumpy next time - so please join me again on Friday. Hopefully I'll have got the 2 1/2 stone shiny sticker and certificate by then and the llamas will put on a fiesta that will blow your minds!!
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Easter Parade
So, the Easter weekend did screw up my opportunities to post any blog entries and as a result I may have wavered somewhat over the weekend in my healthy eating resolve. But never mind. Holidays are always peculiar times for everyone. I mean, how many of you have to keep reminding yourself that it's Tuesday?! Don't lie, now, I've done it about 100 times already this morning!!
On Thursday I went for the weigh in a little earlier than usual. My goal was to reach my Club 10 target by Easter and as I was only 2lbs away from it I thought I might've done it. I was pretty good during the week. I mean, there was Saturday, where I consumed my entire year's worth of calories in liquid form. But I really reined it back in over the rest of the week, even though I didn't do a great deal of exercise, and although I didn't really hold out a great deal of hope, I though that perhaps I might've just done it - or at least just got within a pound or so.
Luckily, I lost 2 1/2lbs. So, my Easter target was met, the llamas fiesta-ed like there was no tomorrow, and the weekend began in a very merry fashion indeed. It was all good in the proverbial hood.
The highlight of the weekend, definitely, was getting my sister to watch films. Normally our flat is a bit of a Sport Only Zone, and although I can put up with sport as much as the next person and I do try and get into it, we did seem to spend the week leading up to The Masters exclusively watching Sky Sports News, which did start to grate a little. So, on Friday, we watched, not one, but THREE films. They included Muppets Treasure Island (it's no Robert Newton version, I grant you - but it does have Kermit the Frog, which the original Disney version definitely couldn't boast), The Cutting Edge (yes, it's a chick flick - but the leading lady was the voice of Nala in The Lion King which instantly makes her okay by me, and it was a sport-based chick flick so it wasn't quite as awful as it could have been) and - and this was quite an achievement, I feel - Thor! I'd re-bought it that morning because I'd loaned it to Rachael a few months ago and was really starting to get terrible withdrawals from it. I mean, you can't go too far wrong with a Kenneth Branagh film. It's like he married superheroes and Shakespeare, two of my favourite things, to make an absolute epic. Loved it. It had action, humour, explosions, scary baddies, brilliant dialogue, Chris Hemsworth, Aled from the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show (in disguise as Loki) and a cameo from my new future ex-husband, Jeremy Renner (the trick with celebrity crushes is to aim ridiculously high but stay realistic!). I mean, what more do you want from a film?!
Jo actually liked it, in the main (she mostly liked the scene where Thor stalked around the kitchen in no shirt and then declared, "This mortal frame requires sustenance! Bring me food!") - but she was a bit peeved that there was no snog at the end between Thor and Natalie Portman. Well. I'm sure there'll be one in Thor 2. MAYBE even one in The Avengers - he has to get back to earth somehow and he might've taken time out to look her up. But there WAS one about 20 minutes from the end, I mean - isn't that enough PDA for one film?! Anyway, she should try being a Spider-Man fan. We had to wait until right at the end of Spidey 2 before Peter and Mary-Jane got together!!
The rest of the weekend was, however, completely taken up with sport. There was a lot of The Masters - and congratulations to Bubba Watson on a well-deserved win. We also watched a bit of rugby and saw Wigan batter St Helens in the Good Friday fixture - but no sporting achievement was as well-received in Wainwright Mansions as Everton walloping Sunderland 4-0 at Goodison yesterday. Fabulous news. Just hope we can keep it up for when we face Liverpool at Wembley on Saturday for the FA Cup Semi-Final. *worries*.
So now, back to work. For as long as that lasts, anyway. I've decided to look for something else. It's been two years now and to be honest I really need to work full-time, which is something I can't do here. It's a lot of upheaval, but with so many other things changing this year, perhaps a new job really is the way forward. Who knows. I mean, obviously, when Adam and I win the BBC sitcom competition, all our worries will be over - but until then I suppose boring secretary jobs will have to do!!
Join me again on Friday, when I'll be able to give you the lowdown on what happens at the weigh-in on Thursday. I need to lose 3 1/2 lbs to get my next half-stone award, which I doubt will happen, but I might at least get halfway there...!!
On Thursday I went for the weigh in a little earlier than usual. My goal was to reach my Club 10 target by Easter and as I was only 2lbs away from it I thought I might've done it. I was pretty good during the week. I mean, there was Saturday, where I consumed my entire year's worth of calories in liquid form. But I really reined it back in over the rest of the week, even though I didn't do a great deal of exercise, and although I didn't really hold out a great deal of hope, I though that perhaps I might've just done it - or at least just got within a pound or so.
Luckily, I lost 2 1/2lbs. So, my Easter target was met, the llamas fiesta-ed like there was no tomorrow, and the weekend began in a very merry fashion indeed. It was all good in the proverbial hood.
The highlight of the weekend, definitely, was getting my sister to watch films. Normally our flat is a bit of a Sport Only Zone, and although I can put up with sport as much as the next person and I do try and get into it, we did seem to spend the week leading up to The Masters exclusively watching Sky Sports News, which did start to grate a little. So, on Friday, we watched, not one, but THREE films. They included Muppets Treasure Island (it's no Robert Newton version, I grant you - but it does have Kermit the Frog, which the original Disney version definitely couldn't boast), The Cutting Edge (yes, it's a chick flick - but the leading lady was the voice of Nala in The Lion King which instantly makes her okay by me, and it was a sport-based chick flick so it wasn't quite as awful as it could have been) and - and this was quite an achievement, I feel - Thor! I'd re-bought it that morning because I'd loaned it to Rachael a few months ago and was really starting to get terrible withdrawals from it. I mean, you can't go too far wrong with a Kenneth Branagh film. It's like he married superheroes and Shakespeare, two of my favourite things, to make an absolute epic. Loved it. It had action, humour, explosions, scary baddies, brilliant dialogue, Chris Hemsworth, Aled from the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show (in disguise as Loki) and a cameo from my new future ex-husband, Jeremy Renner (the trick with celebrity crushes is to aim ridiculously high but stay realistic!). I mean, what more do you want from a film?!
Jo actually liked it, in the main (she mostly liked the scene where Thor stalked around the kitchen in no shirt and then declared, "This mortal frame requires sustenance! Bring me food!") - but she was a bit peeved that there was no snog at the end between Thor and Natalie Portman. Well. I'm sure there'll be one in Thor 2. MAYBE even one in The Avengers - he has to get back to earth somehow and he might've taken time out to look her up. But there WAS one about 20 minutes from the end, I mean - isn't that enough PDA for one film?! Anyway, she should try being a Spider-Man fan. We had to wait until right at the end of Spidey 2 before Peter and Mary-Jane got together!!
The rest of the weekend was, however, completely taken up with sport. There was a lot of The Masters - and congratulations to Bubba Watson on a well-deserved win. We also watched a bit of rugby and saw Wigan batter St Helens in the Good Friday fixture - but no sporting achievement was as well-received in Wainwright Mansions as Everton walloping Sunderland 4-0 at Goodison yesterday. Fabulous news. Just hope we can keep it up for when we face Liverpool at Wembley on Saturday for the FA Cup Semi-Final. *worries*.
So now, back to work. For as long as that lasts, anyway. I've decided to look for something else. It's been two years now and to be honest I really need to work full-time, which is something I can't do here. It's a lot of upheaval, but with so many other things changing this year, perhaps a new job really is the way forward. Who knows. I mean, obviously, when Adam and I win the BBC sitcom competition, all our worries will be over - but until then I suppose boring secretary jobs will have to do!!
Join me again on Friday, when I'll be able to give you the lowdown on what happens at the weigh-in on Thursday. I need to lose 3 1/2 lbs to get my next half-stone award, which I doubt will happen, but I might at least get halfway there...!!
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