I’m a bit fed up. I try – with admittedly varying success – to stay cheerful on the diet progress front and just keep ploughing on with my eyes fixed on the horizon. The ‘horizon’ in this little trite simile is, of course, slimdom. In my case, I’m really only hanging out for a small size (UK) 14 (very modest desires here!) – although clearly I wouldn’t be displeased with a 12. But whereas I’ve been telling myself that I am making baby steps in that direction all the time – and not to get despondent – I seem to be currently bogged down in despondency. And that horizon is moving further away. These last two things may be linked. Okay, they’re linked.
The story so far (this year): I put on 8lbs over Christmas. I was not happy with where I was before Christmas so I needed to lose that and more. I had lost a distinctly unimpressive 5lbs before going to Devon a month ago. Then a couple of days off piste (off piste but not actually joyfully careering through the snow on a sledge pulled by unicorns) meant that I put 2lbs on. A couple of strict weeks would, I hoped, see off that 2lbs, given that most of it was as a result of carbs entering my diet. And my stomach. I was wrong. SoD tells me that I have in fact put ON 1lb since then. So that means that THIS YEAR I have lost 3lbs. In nearly 7 months.
Now, I have known for some time that I was not as other mortals when it came to losing weight. That it takes me much longer than the vast (but more rapidly decreasing in size) majority of people who diet. I don’t find that fact as easy to swallow as, say, a chocolate éclair (it’s been years since I had one of those, sob), but in the interests of sanity and because, frankly, there’s bog all I can about it, I’ve accepted that doing my best and accepting the meagre results were all the reward I could hope for.
And the diet I’m on, I’m happy with. The see-saw I seemed to spend my life ricocheting on is no more – the see-saw of sugar that could leave me shaking, confused and tetchy. No, now when I’m tetchy, it’s nothing to do with sugar-withdrawal! Seriously though, me stopping eating complex carbs has not been easy and there’s a lot I miss - but I feel much healthier. Sure, I get hungry but not desperate and il; my blood sugar levels are reasonably stable and it helps. Emotionally it’s hard but physically it’s much easier.
But I’m still not losing weight. I would really, really like to be a stone and a half lighter by the wedding. But it’s not going to happen (not in 4 ½ months – and possibly not ever). And that’s tough. Not just because of the wedding although of course that rather shines a searchlight on the whole issue. But because I work very hard at this and I need to feel that I’m achieving something. I am roughly the weight I was last year (actually 2lbs heavier, even more depressingly) – and I haven’t stopped dieting except for brief periods over Christmas, my birthday and holiday. And even then I’ve not gone mad.
Now, there may be reasons why I’ve not lost weight for 3 weeks post-Devon that I’m unaware of. Certainly I felt bloated on WI day this week – I had to ram my engagement ring on whereas usually it’s an easy fit. My period started that day – and it’s been a shocker. And I had a small bit of homemade cake on Tuesday (most office treats I now turn down with barely a flinch but my team-mate’s homemade lemon drizzle I could not turn down). And I’ve not been drinking much water – or anything. Maybe all these are reasons, temporary reasons, and all will be well next week. I hope so because I’m finding it tough, dear Reader.
But I’m not confident. And not just because I have our wedding cake tasting the night before next WI. And actually, I really want to be able to look forward to things like that, not dread them for their impact on SoD.
I’m gritting my teeth and I’m keeping on going, but it’s tough. That’s all.