In Dorset?

I most certainly would! (In Dorset – endorse it, geddit? Oh never mind, it's a favourite joke of 2 (male) friends of mine!)

So, back in the smog after a week in the rolling hills of Dorset with bf, Beth and the Lab pack. The Lab pack immediately set about endearing themselves to Beth with much soulful brown eyes and waggy tails – but they couldn’t keep up with her on the hills! Seriously, I sometimes call bf a mountain goat, so nimbly does he trip up hills but Beth is a frigging ibex. We did some serious hills – they nearly killed me, I couldn’t even talk as I puffed through gritted teeth, feeling the burn in my arse and thighs, the pounding of my head and the, er, absence of feeling at all in my little fingers (apparently a sign that my body had bigger things to concentrate on). Even bf found some of them tough. We’d arrive at the top to find Beth calmly sipping water, having not even broken into a sweat. Usually with a panting Labrador leaning heavily against her. Then, at the end of the day, when I collapsed on the sofa with a cup of tea, she was out on an hour’s run. And that’s after some yoga and press ups first thing. At one point I wailed, “Is THIS what you have to do to lose weight?”, thinking that I simply never could. Beth reckoned that it was what you had to do to stay super-slim, when you get to that point. I don’t think I’ll ever hit that level of slim-dom so hopefully I won’t have to work quite as hard and I'm fine with that - happy to be a small size 14 to be honest (Beth would need to invite a friend to fill a size 14). But even with walking every day (initially through mud which was challenging, and then up some big hills. And then down, and then up etc, etc, etc Curiously more up than down..) and really feeling it, I put on ½ stone. Which tends to make me think that losing weight isn’t really about exercise, it’s about food control. Because I wasn’t controlled about food. I have been a lot, LOT worse in my time, but we had wine every night and some sort of pudding and a good meal. So the hard work physically did NOT make up for the extra calories, which was what I’d been telling myself as I heaved up the hills.

I was back on my bike today – hopefully my climbing hills should have kept my cycling muscles going at any rate. After my depressing encounter with Scales of Doom this morning, it was particularly appropriate that I’d already decided to cycle. Even with cycling 3+ times a week though, it seems unlikely that I’ll be anything other than an utter fatty for Naughty R’s wedding. To wear the outfit I wore to a wedding last year, I would have to be a stone and a half lighter in a month and a half and that’s LL territory, not ‘normal’ life. I fear this means buying an outfit I’m not happy with – a particularly stinging experience. Still bullets don’t have calories, right? So biting that one at least shouldn’t impact on calorie consumption!

I had a pretty good day diet-wise yesterday and although I’ve upped my porridge quota from 1/3 cup of oats to ½ cup for the time being (which I feel guilty about but think I need to transition back to diet portions), I have a virtuous day planned again today. It’s all I can do. Dieting, one day at a time and cycling as often as I can plus maybe a walk at the weekend when we can and when I'm not working. It’s not exactly a foolproof plan but it’s the only one I’ve got.