I had a virtuous weekend with walking and a low-syn and more-or-less sin-free life. I have pulled a muscle in my thigh with over vigorous cycling last week which played me up a bit on the walks but it'll be rested all this week as I won't be cycling at all. This is because I have had a Brazilian hair treatment - which is not what my colleague thought I was announcing to the whole office (!) but a protein thingy, otherwise known as the permanent blow dry, to make your hair frizz free and shiny for 3 months. And for several days I can't wash it or tie it back or even tuck it behind my ears; wearing a cycle helmet is out. My thigh had better hurry up and heal because I have walking plans for it this weekend.
SoD decided to reward my virtue with a staggering 3lbs off. Technically it was a shade under that because my scales show increments of 1/4 lb which I can never quite work out but as last week I was Porky.12 (up, cruelly, from Porky.11) and now I'm Porky.9 (yeah, yeah, and 3/4) I'm claiming that as a 3lber. I'm very, very happy with that of course - only 1lb off my pre-Christmas weight - but am trying not to let my thoughts gambol off delightedly and over-enthusiastically. I will not lose that on a regular basis; I know this. I will be utterly thrilled if I can usually lose 2lbs a week but suspect I may have to content myself with 1lb. And that's fine.
Coming up fast as hurdles to consider is Easter - always a trial for a chocoholic. I think I'm going to have an egg but have to measure it out a very little at a time. It's better than either of the other extremes - having none and feeling very sorry for myself or stuffing myself silly, blissful in ignorance until the wrath of SoD hits.
And then we have something lovely to look forward to: we are going back to the B&B in Devon where bf proposed. B&B rather undersells it: it's a place with 3 rooms in the middle of nowhere. The rooms are lovely and each have their own private terrace with views across a valley. The owner makes THE most amazing blueberry pancakes for breakfast. SW will not like that - flour, sugar and fat are the Axis of Evil as far as SW is concerned. But I'll be having them anyway. And we'll eat out probably 3 times, once is booked in an amazing highly plaudited nearby Elizabethan manor hotel. But I'll try and practise moderation apart from the pancakes and the one treat meal - the others will be SW friendly choices only. And I've devised a romantic and very SW friendly picnic for the night we arrive - on the terrace with seafood and wine (a mere glass for me) and Eaton mess (mine with yoghurt), all made in advance and making use of my lovely wicker picnic hamper bf bought me for my birthday years ago but which is very impractical if you have to lug it anywhere. You really need staff for this hamper - it has the same misty-eyed illusions that I can fall prey to. I love it although I expect I am not what it considers a good choice for heroine of its story!
It does make me think though: I would say I've been more than usually unlucky with shedding the Christmas weight that 4 1/2 months post the big day, I've still not got rid of it. But you only need that, a similar catastrophe over a summer holiday and a couple of blips in order to end up with a net loss of nothing very much over the year. Or even a gain. I have to buck this trend - next Christmas will NOT find me back in this vicious circle.