A cycle of despondency

Cycling makes me feel healthier - but it's a kind of body dysmorphia. I cycle in with the wind in my, er, helmet and I feel vaguely that I must be healthy and slimmer than I really am; then I get in to work and realise I'm lumpier and frumpier than my happy imagination allows.

I don't think that I'm going to feel less angst about this until I've lost at least another stone - it's at that point that my clothes should start fitting again and that will make a big difference. It's extremely depressing to keep trying to squeeze into things that don't really fit and certainly don't look good - but I suspect that nothing's going to start looking good until I've shed that stone. Half of that stone is of course holiday weight but despite my vomiting kick start I seem to be back to my old tortoise pace of losing a little slowly - even with the cycling.

I shouldn't have weighed myself this morning, I know it now and I knew it then. I wondered -with hope in my heart - whether the cycle rides on Friday (going home was a real toughie) and 2hours 20 mins yesterday would have negated the dinner party and meant I'd lost a little more. But of course I'd put on a little. I need to only weigh at the end of the week since I am much better with the 'carrot' approach than the 'stick' - which tends to make me dispirited. Although as a friend pointed out, really, why would a rotten old carrot be a massive motivator? If if were a fairy cake, say, or a macaroon....

The dinner party was a success but I did drink more than I usually do and that may have resulted in my headache yesterday - although I am a headachy person and have a bad one right now (whimper). Either way, wine = calories so I should have eased right back and I'm still not sure why I didn't - despite my love for wine I am usually quite sensible. Anyway, let's hope that cycling most days and fitting in walks at lunchtime this week will mean a loss by Thu/Fri.

I'm still constantly diverted by cycling - men on bikes are so funny, they're consistently so desparate to overtake, even if that only means gaining an extra metre or so (well, we know that men see a small measurement as something impressive!) and will hurtle past, bulgy eyed with effort. Motorbikes and taxis are consistently rude, with motorbikes flouting as many traffic rules as they possibly can. Actually they're less diverting and more infuriating. I actually need to book my bike in for it's service but don't want to have a cycle free (and thus less calorie burning) day whilst I need it so badly, especially when the weather makes it so pleasurable to cycle (and so smelly on public transport!).