Yesterday was a fat day. Yesterday, despite all my efforts to the contrary, I felt like a big, fat, blob – and therefore unhappy and really self-consious. Members of the jury, allow me to make my case by taking you through the day:
· I did get up early and got off the tube and walked in the c2.5 miles in my MBTs (by dint of not washing my hair – probably didn’t help with feeling such a mess)
· I also walked – extremely fast (arriving revoltingly sweaty) – to meet Beth for pilates. A little over 4 miles, again in MBTs
· Went for a walk at lunchtime (not MBTs – c 35 mins)
· Pilates. More of which later.
· Salad for lunch, salad for dinner, no naughties, no treats
· I wore jeans to work (we don’t have to wear office wear at the moment). I don’t usually wear jeans (or trousers) because my legs are too short and fat for them to look good and finding a top that covers my stomach is problematic. I felt I looked awful all day having caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror in the loos looking, er, awful. And fat. And dumpy.
· I was hopeless at Pilates and everyone else was pretty effortless (or that’s how it looked). This was highlighted by the instructor keep saying pityingly to me (and me alone) “Are you okay with that?” and “How did you find that?” during and after each exercise. I was also concentrating on not throwing up since I had arrived so hot and early that I’d quaffed down a skinny frappuccino to try and cool down. Not wise as it turns out.
Let’s examine a few key points in more detail:
Jeans - Beth diagnosed (I asked her) that the problem was that the top I had on with jeans had a kangaroo pocket which made me look even fatter across the midriff. Really useful advice which did make me feel better (although curse it, I’ve only worn the top twice!). I also went home and tried on my jeans which are a size smaller and got them on – they’re tight but they sort of fit (there’s almost no muffin - more of a polite fairy cake). Not sure I’m going to be wearing them just yet, but it did explain a bit why the legs of my jeans felt so unpleasantly loose and baggy in the legs (which added to the dumpy/frumpy feeling).
Pilates – Ow, ow, ow. This morning only my back, shoulders and backs of knees hurt (none of these make my top ten of places to de-fat) but other parts of my body are slowly starting to register protest (my upper arms – yay!) so I hope that despite the humiliation, it did some good. I don’t think I’ll be rushing to do this again – I’d rather do weights, lunges etc at home (of course I don’t, but I would still rather). I did Pilates many years ago with a genius teacher who took us through exercises that didn’t especially hurt at the time, but the next day you felt like you’d been mown down by a fleet of juggernauts; I’ve never been able to replicate that experience since but would like a shot if I could.
Of course, the final verdict should have been delivered by Scales of Doom today, but I was so tired and rushed this morning that I forgot to get on them, damn it.
Today is another day. It’s day one of my commando plan (mission: avoid SoD disaster) for minimal damage over the weekend in Suffolk/Norfolk. Despite a hysteria-inducing lack of sleep, I tore myself out of bed this morning to do that 2.5 mile walk again in my MBTs. Armed just with a rucksack containing vital provisions (boots and an assortment of plastic boxes of food) I wobbled my way along the Thames (wobble not (just) caused by flab but by rocking motion of MBTs), trying to ignore the ache in my shoulders and lower back. Other tactics for the weekend include saying NO to fish and chips tonight (I have to have done a big walk to earn F&Cs) – we are having them on Friday and I’m planning a c10 mile to pay for a small portion. Saying NO to pudding in the restaurants tonight and Saturday unless there’s something I really, really want (and looking at their menus online, there isn’t – I’m picky which is dead useful sometimes), saying NO to any soft drink that isn’t zero calories (sadly no Suffolk apple juice for me), keeping the wine down to minimal levels (ie let bf drink most of bottle and no aperitif for me) and saying YES to lots of exercise. It’s not perfect (when am I ever?!) but that combined with pretty much a solid week of salads (before (tick) and after) will hopefully squeeze me through, if not unscathed then at least not missing in action.