Yes, I didn’t post for a whole week.
No, I have no excuses beyond “I’ve been tired like a lunatic,” and, “I didn’t want to.”
Also, no. I didn’t fall off the wagon. I didn’t make the 14 days on Phase One, however. I managed 12 days, and I managed 12 days rather well, I feel!
I just… I got to day 12, and I was sick of eggs and I was sick of mushrooms and I was sick of chicken and I was sick of salad, and really. I don’t blame me. Working and cooking my own meals, eating a salad for lunch every day, the same salad for lunch every day I was at work, got to be really boring, really tiring.
And so I decided to take two and a half days off. I went to the cinema to see Watchmen and I had popcorn and a bag of chocolates. I had a wee bit of ice cream on Saturday, and a few chocolates from my Mum’s box.
And I actually feel better for it.
I’m not going to go back to Phase One, and I’m not going to be following Phase Two to a T. I can’t deal with it right now. I’m going to be following Phase One sensibilities – snacking on nuts or low-fat cheese between my meals. No sugary snacks. No crap, no takeaways.
Kind of Core Plan-ish, but more South Beachy, I suppose? I just…
I hate vegetables. I’m sure people might have figured that out by now, that I absolutely cannot tolerate vegetables for any length of time. Especially when they’re replacing wheat or starch or whatever in my diet.
I survived for 12 days on Phase One. I lost a great deal of weight – I’ll get to that in a minute – but I’m going to eat fruit. I’m going to eat pasta and rice, but I’m going to try and keep it natural, keep it wholemeal, brown, no whites, you know?
No coming home on a Monday night and eating a batch of profiteroles covered in fake chocolate sauce.
But goddamn it, Phase Two scares me.
Anyway, I said I’d talk about the weight-loss this time around. I never gave y’all a start weight for this, because I was so damned embarrassed about the weight I’d gotten up to, even after my doctor told me to lose a stone (14lbs) by May 15.
So, let’s start with that: my start weight. On March 2, I started Phase One. I actually weighed myself around February 24 or so, and I weighed 392lbs.
Which, excuse my French, is fucking ridiculous. I swore I’d never hit 400lbs again. I’m glad I didn’t.
I weighed myself this morning – I weighed myself last NIGHT, but I was wearing jeans and a jacket and I’d eaten my dinner and all, and so I weighed myself this morning when I woke up, and this morning, I weighed 376lbs.
Which, if I calculate correctly, is a loss of 16lbs in just over 2 weeks.
To say that I’m thrilled is correct. To say that I’m thrilled that I lost 16lbs is… wow. Yes! Thank God.
But I’ve noticed that it’s not so uncomfortable to wear my jeans any more. It doesn’t hurt to walk down to the bank or the taxis to come home. It doesn’t hurt to stand in a queue in the bank any more.
Because I had been getting to that stage; I’d been getting to the stage where my hip hurt. I moved into the bigger room in our house after my little sister left, and when I spent the whole day moving stuff, my hip was hurting like a bastard. I could barely move at the end of the day, and with the new bed – the firmer mattress in it, too – my hip and my back hurt, and I couldn’t believe I’d let it get to that again.
But now I’m almost closer to 350lbs than I am to 400lbs, and that’s good. I’m moving in the right direction again, for which I’m rather glad, to put it mildly.
My next goal is that 350lb mark. The last time I weighed 350lbs – which is, by the way, 25 stones exactly – was probably 2001. I wasn’t any smaller then, in my mind, in my clothes, but I think that’s the changing point. I think once I hit the 350 that everything’s going to change. Things are going to be easier from thereon out.
So, you guys, keep your fingers crossed for me, aye? I’ll keep on doing my best. I can only disappoint myself so many times in my life.