Sitting at my desk with a skinny cappuccino yesterday morning at 9am, weary and bleary eyed from 4 days on the trot without enough sleep, I realised that it was exactly a calendar year to our wedding. I can't say it was a shock exactly, as our treat in a lovely Country Inn/hotel/restaurant tonight was planned as a pre-anniversary treat (and today is 11/11/11!), but I still had a thrill of realisation as I realised that 10/11/11 was only a year away from 10/11/12 (although bf pointed out that the impending leap year means it's a wee bit longer). I felt... excitement and fear. Not fear about committment or marrying bf, despite the fact he's been a bit grouchy recently, but fear of everything I have to do before then - chiefly, getting to a state where buying (and wearing) a wedding dress doesn't cause me major trauma and self-loathing.
I've been stellar on the diet pretty much since coming back from the US 9lbs heavier, and I've lost almost 3lbs of that additional lardage, but the fact is that I am still Porky.10 (and a quarter) and I need to be blasting towards the next stone bracket down (and then down, down, down). I know once I get to the middle of the next stone bracket down, let's call it Chubby, that I start to feel a little better about myself. But I can't kid myself that that will be okay for a wedding dress. I want to be a stone down from there (let's call it Generous for the time being) by April when I start to look at dresses - and I'd like to lose more from there really, at least another stone if it won't bugger up the dress. And I suspect that that will still be a dress size 12/14 which still makes buying second hard hard (how DO they all get to 8-10s??)
So now we will have a blip in service for tonight's meal - and I'm trying not to be too black and white about it. It's one meal. Yes, it won't be anything like what I usually have, not least because there will be booze. And pudding. But that doesn't mean that I 'may as well' eat anything I fancy today or tomorrow or Monday - not even because on Tuesday we're having tea at a hotel in London which is converted from somewhere bf used to work (I bought a Groupon voucher which is about to expire). And tea, as you will have guessed, is not simply a cup of - no, it's sandwiches, cakes and a glass of fizz. (And will have to be both lunch and dinner to try and compensate a bit). The blips must be tonight, breakfast tomorrow and Tuesday AND THAT IS ALL. And ideally I'd like to enjoy these without self-castigation, panic and guilt. Ideally.
Then next Wednesday - because it's stupid to wait for a perfect time which will never come - I start Phase 1 of the Harcombe Diet. It's 5 days of quite hardcore eating (or not eating) - no sugar (argghhh), no dairy, no simple carbs - only vegetables and a bit of brown rice. Apparently I can expect to feel dreadful. I'm not sure I will because my diet is pretty reasonable - yes, not being able to have fruit or my usual daily square of dark chocolate will be miserable, but apart from that, I don't think I'll suffer too much. Although I've found out that I can't have green tea! I was feeling a bit smug that I am not a coffee fiend and I don't drink black tea with milk so I guess it served me right when I found with dismay that there's no green tea either (because caffeine spikes insulin). More of that when I get to Wednesday and those metaphorical sackcloths and ashes - for now it's hedonism, wheeeeee.