Well another week of fasting, not feasting has passed and I have arrived on day 13 and it’s a Friday too… unlucky for some! Pity I’ve chosen it as my new weigh-in day… ( I decided Saturdays are SO much fun, it seemed almost sacrilege to blight them with the presence of a mocking digital scales).
After another 7 days of careful food monitoring this week, I’ve been frequently reminding myself that this had ‘better be worth it!’. As the weather has begun to turn colder and the lack of substantial fuel started to chill my bones a little, the concept of why a lot of thin people are often poker-faced suddenly dawned on me…. they’re cold, tired and hungry!! Who WOULDN”T be miserable?! Energy just doesn’t create itself, no matter how hard we try.
Monday , the thrill of having lost some weight and experiencing successful wardrobe renaissance sessions was still fresh enough to provide incentive. Soup, fruit and black coffee virtuously replaced my usual ~ rather more palatable fodder ~of toast, sandwiches, crisps and hot chocolate.
Tuesday and Wednesday spun past in a flurry of workloads and my tum rumbling to remind me I had to eat something, even if it DID look and taste like pitted cardboard. So ryvita and cottage cheese it was! Followed by a whole tin of pineapple rings to remove the wallpaper paste consistency of the cheese. It should surely be called ‘claggy cheese’ NOT ‘cottage’! I have wondered all week if it achieved it’s moniker from having been discovered on the walls of a country ruin somewhere… evil stuff! I found myself mixing it with marmite just to introduce some taste into the glurg. However, when I found it all combined together into a browney-grey lump, it appeared exactly like mashed brain on my plate. Not altogether apppetizing then.
Thursday proved to be a day of attempted~ and failed~ excercise. The god of contrariness was with me and no matter how much I contrived circumstances to allow a short run or fifteen minute jig about, doorbells rang, people stopped to chat and all but a 50 piece brass band piled into the equation. “Ah well, I’ll just have to lose the blubber some other way” I mused whilst eyeing up the mince pies in the local bakery window.
And here we are.. ” thank Crunchie it’s Friday”. Except I’m not allowing myself a Crunchie or anything else lovely for another week. So! I must jump on those scales to elicit some joy out of my week in self deprivation!
Yes! Thank you resultometer!! I have lost another 2 and 1/2 lbs in 7 days! That’s almost a bag of flour’s worth. I wonder where it went to? Maybe it’s melted into the ether and transferred itself via precipitation onto some poor thin person who actually needs it…!
Now it is late on Friday night with only 6 days until my party and the ultimate deadline left to go. I still have 7 lbs left to lose in under a week. Short of several daily seaweed wraps and living on miso soup with spirulina dressing for a week, there’s nothing much i can do, but ” keep calm and carry on”. I guess any spare tyres still to be shifted will soon disappear once my feet find that dancefloor on the 1st December!
Week 3 , my final week
Those final pounds I have to tweak!!
© Tess Egerton 2011
Arrrrggh!!! Four short weeks to go until the big day!! No, not my wedding day~ that one’s been and gone~ but my 40th birthday!
When I excitedly started planning my ‘party of the year’ to roll in the naughty forties, I’d concentrated on the venue, the decoration colour scheme, the entertainment and food, the guest-list of fantastic best mates and finally … the outfit.
The outfit!! It was my last consideration amongst all elements of the big night, but I have chosen it at last!
Now all I have to do is actually diet ~yet again~ to fit into it…
Having forced myself to buy a size smaller than required, I operated on that age-old female theory that if you buy small, it’ll force you into an automatic “shrink to fit” mode physically and mentally. The mode where you dream of yourself living on carrot sticks and twiglets for the next month, but realise whilst you’re dreaming a double chocolate chip muffin and milkshake have ended up in your hands! How on EARTH did they get there???!
So there I stood in front of the mirror, packed into my dream party attire looking like a prize black pudding~ post fry-up , but with diaphanous sleeves ( oh that makes it look SO much better…!).
“Ooooh Grrd” I thought. “How am I EVER going to look all sleek and lovely in this within four weeks?”. My only consolation, as with many other ladies out there, is that I have been down this road so many times I’ve bought the book fifty times over, got the t-shirt and worn it to death. Then I ruin the glorious results within days after target completion by smugly laughing in the face of my sleekness and chow down on chips with frivolity!
Now it’s “that time ” again. Out come the dust encrusted tools to aid my starvation for the next month:
The Scales: A necessary evil to chart ‘inevitable’ progress. Every ounce of weight-loss counts at a time like this. This tool is perhaps one of the worst for inciting enormous highs and lows, cheers or boo’s, depending on the results. I shudder at the thought of seeing that digital display creeping up and out of control as it develops a metaphorical devil face, cackling cruelly at the invisible pack of lard on my hips this week. Equally though, euphoria and an involuntary lap of honour erupt around the bathroom for every hard-earned 2lbs I’ve lost. Shall i celebrate with a bar of Dairy Milk?? No NO No No!!! Think THIN!!
The Mirror Another invention from the Devil’s workshop of humiliation. Fantastic for aiding make-up application or eye-brow plucking, not so good for pointing out numerous spare tyres and a butt that’ll eclipse anything north of the equator. It’s times like this I could own ‘the thin one’ from the ‘Circus Hall of Magic Mirrors’. Encouragement is everything in this game… even if it means cheating a bit!
The Camera A necessary tool for charting all round progress. This usually ends up as a tool of sheer amusement. By the end of most diet stints I look back at my first few shots and realize I looked like Augustus Gloop, gradually mutating into a reject from Cell Block H. The shots when finally lined up usually resemble a gallery from The Usual Suspects . It makes me laugh so much I lose a few more pounds with the shaking! That in itself is a worthwhile exercise.
The Specialist Food( and drink of course). Oh this is the category which scares me the most. I must kiss my last marshmallow hot chocolate goodbye wistfully as I embark on four weeks of Dryvita and discipline. Woe is me as I throw away the cheese and potato pie I made only 2 days ago and replace it with ‘delicious’ lentil soup and rocket leaves (yum!?). Milkshakes, juice and Shiraz have to be replaced with Mineral water, diet coke and Gin with diet coke. Yurg.. not the greatest of swaps , but it’ll have to do!
Join me tomorrow as I record what happened today on Day 1 of my Not So Secret Diet Diary…. wish me luck!!
© Tess Egerton 2011
- Week 20 ~ ’ Semaine Vingt’ (Means Big Pants)
- Dr Winstanley’s View: Week 18
- Talk to the Bump (though the face IS listening!).
- Dear Diary ~ It’s Springtime and There’s a Lot of Blooming!
- Dr Winstanley on Diet and Exercise in Pregnancy
- Children's Stories
- Double Bubble Bump Diaires
- Short Stories
- Tess' Blog
- The Not-So-Secret Diary of A Yo-Yo Dieter