Well Dear Reader, I’ve been and gone and done it. Been to Boots, stood (in full public view) and weighed myself. Now, the reason that I was prompted to do this is that, following my comfy knicker post, I have been paying attention to the fact that I seem to be buying more ‘forgiving’ clothes – smockish tops, elasticated waistbands and suchlike and having caught sight of myself in shop windows and recent photos, I don’t like what I see. Not one little bit. My plight has not been helped by the purchase of a fabulous pair of summer trousers from Madrid. I neglected to try them on in the shop as it was SO hot and when I went to put them on at the weekend they were SO tight that I couldn’t breath and they looked awful, just awful with my flabby tummy rolling over the top of them. I could have cried, really I could as I folded them back up and put them away.
In amongst all of this I am also conscious that because it’s the Summer and because I have the sort of partner and friends and life that I do, I have been socialising more than usual. And rightly or wrongly where there is us socialising, there is us drinking. For those of you out there in the real world who actually know me you will know that I do like a glass of wine. White please, no Chardonnay. It’s the only thing that I drink – I’m not a beer girl or a vodka monster (unless you count the odd Pimms) and I have come to realise that despite my reasonably good diet (I don’t do chocolate or sweets but I do have a weakness for cheese) the vast majority of my ’empty’ calories are coming from the old vino collapso.
So. What to do? I am resolved to make amends. Stop drinking during the week particularly at home. If there should be a social occasion that demands a modicum of drinking then this will be acted upon responsibly and the second bottle will NOT be attempted. Stop eating sandwiches for breakfast and return to Special K (which is so boring it’s untrue) and fruit. Stop eating through boredom and apathy – get out there and do some of the billion things that need doing in the house and garden. Do some exercise. Unfortunately slaving working at the pub for 12 hours a week doesn’t make you lose the flab but does give you great cellulite free legs (there are some compensations) and I really need to do something in the way of swimming or whatever to get the old heart rate up and fight the battle of the bulge. Basically I need to take myself in hand in a big way. So in a fit of stupidity bravery I’m going to tell you what the scales said. And then in a Bridget Jones stylee I will give you weekly Monday updates of my progress. I’m sure there are those of you who couldn’t care less, those who think ‘HOW HEAVY??’ and those who think ‘that’s not so bad’ (or maybe not) but I think that if I write it down and confess to being heavier than ever before in my life, excluding pregnancy, then I might just do something about it. So here goes – *takes deep breath*
Weight 10 st 11 lbs
BMI 25.8 (I’m short too)
Body fat percentage 31.9%
All the wrong side of good. So, my plan is to try to get to 9 st 11 lb. It won’t be easy, it won’t be pleasurable but now that I’ve written it down and confessed to you Dear Reader, I feel better already.