To mark the beginning of this new era of my life, I have now decided to create a whole new me. Not emotionally or personally, that would never work in the long term and it’s way too costly. Imagine those shrink bills! Up the wall! Instead I have opted, as with my girls my age to go with the physical aspect. I am hereby starting my new, active health kick turn around.
It’s not as if I consider myself overly fat or have some kind of demented and warped mind about my self image (ok may be a little – I’m only female) but recently I have began to notice the beginnings of all kinds of depression inducing changes in my appearance. Saddlebags and bingo wings are beginning to sprout out of nowhere as if overnight and every time I sit down to eat not one, but both of my housemates leftover dinner, whereas I used to be able to get away with it (thanks dad genes) I can now pretty much see the chips go straight into my arse. I may as well just rub them all over myself, watch the lard seep in and be done with it. (p.s have you seen pics of my dad lately? Sell by date?)
I’ve been noticing it for quite a while now but its easy to go into a state of denial when you can avoid the cameras on nights out and just about squeeze into your favourite jeans still at a push. However it all came to a massive head last friday when I snuck out of Blues Kitchen absolutely ravenous at 1am and when people came and found me I was sat in Macdonalds with a Big Mac meal. Yes I know we’ve all been there many a time and have delightfully lived to tell the tale however how many of you have gone back for more? Not once, not twice but I’d say I went back into that queue at least 3 times. I don’t know what happened, but for way more reasons than this, (I don’t think I really should mention what happened after that ever again in my life) last Friday was definitely not my finest hour.
I woke up on Saturday morning in such a fit of dispair and shame at myself that I actually put on a pair of trainers and went for a jog. This may not seem like that vast an occurance to many of you but I haven’t done this to myself since around 2008. Now it wasn’t actually bad but I bloody hate jogging and I’m not one of those cool people you see gliding through the park in all their snazzy lycra kit, high tech trainers, stopwatches, and bottles of water strapped to their arms. I run like an epileptic frog, my arms fly everywhere, I go redder than a baboons arse and I was wearing sweat pants and t shirt with the spirit of Jazz from the mighty boosh on it that said ‘Got Jazz?’. Not cool. Not cool at all. But let me tell you… Apart from the immense pain and stiffness of my body afterwards I FELT GREAT. So as I scrambled onto my train to Liverpool to say a brief hello to the crew for the night, I vowed that this would be my last drink for at least a few days(!) and that this was going to be the beginning of something really good and special.
Wednesday night I popped to see Aunty Jane and got half a bottle of red poured down my neck, thurs I got smashed at the staff social, stayed out clubbing til 2am and came home with a pile of chips. Friday although it wasn’t a late, there was still a lot of cider drank and pizza eaten so I really did fail myself there. When I woke up yesterday morning and went down to have my sorry bowl of porridge with water, I really did feel embarrassed at my awful attempt. (I will however note that I did run home on Tues night and did skipping on Monday – way more than the usual)
So this weekend I’ve actually managed to have a quiet one. I really just hope this this week I can attempt to adhere to it a bit better. I made all the effort of going shopping today and got all manor of green, healthy things. I’ve had a run, I’ve done some stretches – I’ve had oatcake cracker things for lunch (although they taste like crap and I realised all I have to put on them is chocolate spread so that seriously has defeated the whole object) and this week I feel I’m going to do it. It is an absolute must that Jenson and myself get a week away in the sun this summer and I am not going to spend the week wearing a t shirt on the beach like I do every other year. I must get fit because whether I like it or not, I ain’t getting any younger and although I am still young, my metabolism is slowing by the second. If it wasn’t already lame enough that I typed in ‘putting on weight symptoms’ into google search yesterday – the fact that the number one answer was ‘aging’ was enough for me to live off celery sticks for the rest of my life! Why do I have to go down the pan SO much? Give me a break already, out of all the things I enjoy to do in my life, food is number one and now I can’t even enjoy that. What else is left? ………*tumbleweeds*……Oh well whatever, its all about punishing myself right now. I enjoy it. So if anyone see’s me this week sneaking a biscuit or munching on a piece of cake. You remind me of this and you kick that crap out my hand I mean it! Housemates – a note to you please. If there are leftovers to be eaten I will eat them. Please I am now taking off the ban off no food in the bin. Either be good girls and finish your dinner or throw it out well and good before I can see it. That does also mean you have to bury it really well into the bin too…you know I have been known to pick off the top 😉 DON’T BRING ME TO THAT LEVEL.