21 Pounds / Starting all Over

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So. Here we are again.

Another Monday awash with good intentions and unrealistic optimism for the week ahead. My posts of a year ago tell me that I was 12st 7lb (average) back then – and rather less delighted about it than I should have been. I’m much less delighted now as my hulking mass of 14 stone stares guiltily at the screen in front, and I can feel every pound of my gain spilling uncomfortably out of my clothes. I’ve had to go up a jeans size, and even at that – things are more snug than they ought to be. This is the first time since 2009 I have experienced any sustained weight gain, and I’m not fucking happy about it. But who’s to blame? Nobody but me. Yet again, piles of reasons but no excuse. I just don’t have that fanatical discipline, the desire to whip up new dishes, the effortless determination that I had when I started Slimming World. The longing to be thin and toned is still there, but I seem to be sub-consciously avoiding any and all steps to logically achieving this. The ‘bad’ foods addiction is well and truly gripping me, and I can’t seem to break the spell.

 

It’s all so dramatic this, isn’t it? Any rational person would just shut the fuck up and get on with it. Not saying I’m totally irrational, but my behaviour at the minute in terms of nutrition is anything but sensible. The change? Life has changed totally. From 2008 until March of this year, I spent my days working in a job that I didn’t particularly enjoy, that didn’t engage me, and afforded me time to concentrate on food and on exercise. Now, I have my own business – a fucking food business. Probably not the smartest move for a fat bastard, but the only move I ever wanted to make in terms of a career. It’s great though, and I’m enjoying it, but it’s like a heroin addict setting up a needle store. It is literally wall to wall temptation. Scones, cakes, traybakes, chocolate, ice cream…..and that’s just the sweet stuff. I also stock an impressive butchers sausage, best eaten with bbq sauce and melted cheese. Proper bread. Floury baps. The works. A 21 pound gain probably isn’t that bad all things considered, but still. For all the naughty deliciousness, I also have healthy alternatives. All my soups are syn-free, as is my stew. I have free flowing baked potatoes and salad! Do I want to eat them? Do I fuck! Do I want to be a tubby bastard though? No.

Another big change is the amount of free time I have now. I don’t really have a great deal. Typically, I am working a six day week which means around 70 hours a week, usually more. Then again, if I was more disciplined and organised, I would probably be working less. Eitherway, after a 12 hour day, the last thing I feel like doing is getting changed and going for a run. Plus, after almost a year off from running long distances, I’m scared to try. It’ll feel like starting all over, but that’s because I would be! Having said that, pain is temporary, and at least now I know what to expect. I need to feel the fear and do it anyway. Lolz at that. It’s not like I haven’t been trying to get my shit together – I have. I’m back into the old ‘start Monday’ mindset. To be fair, I think I deserve my indulgences. I’m not a drinker, or a big smoker, and I don’t do drugs – food is my way of rewarding myself for work done, for celebrating, for consoling, for comfort. I just have to re-realise and re-accept that I can’t be trusted to limit my indulgences.

 

So after all that, what’s happening? Well, it’s Monday, and I have ‘started again’ again. It’s roughly nine weeks til my birthday, and I’d very much like to be 12st 7lb again for then. I need to lose 21 pounds in those nine weeks – an average of just over 2lb per week. It’s not just about numbers though, and simple arithmetic is only simple on paper. Challenge 2: Run a half-marathon on Boxing Day. Why Boxing Day? Why not. It would be too much to run it on my birthday, and I can’t be coping with unrealistic targets at the minute! So I’m choosing to run the day after the biggest carb-loading day/week of the year – it actually makes sense! I downloaded a Half Marathon app and I’m going to follow it up until the event date. Hopefully I stick to my word instead of throwing it at my arse along with everything else. Sad face.

 

Anyway, hope you’re all keeping well, sorry I am a shitty blogger these days – there’s loads of comments I have to moderate etc, but I’m such a lazy hoor. Sorry again! Give us a wee comment sure, who knows, I might even answer!

 

Five Reasons I Love Running

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A short and snappy post for a change!

1. The smug sense of satisfaction afterwards.

Nothing beats strolling around town, basking in the warm afterglow of physical exercise; knowing that you’ve already done more in the last few hours than most people will do all day.

2. It makes you look like a hard bastard

Unless your running style is akin to Phoebe from Friends, you can be pretty sure that people watching you think you are a badass. Adopt the appropriate scowl and you’ll be positively frightening. Mere mortals will flee.

3. Semi guilt-free munching

There is less to fear from the allure of baked goods and general naughties when they are preceded by a run. Imagine your metabolism is like a waste disposal unit in your tummy – after a run, it obliterates the tasty treats faster before they make their way to your hips/arse/spare tyre!

4. Legitimate public expulsion of bodily fluids

Athletes care not for Kleenex. They are a sign of weakness. I am running, I am machine, a speed demon with no time for mucus etiquette! Now move! Before I spit in your eye and blow snot forcefully from an open nostril in your general direction. Like Wayne Rooney, with less finesse – but more hair.

5. I can purchase and wear sports clothing without being a chav

No explanation needed.

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