So, here we are, Easter Monday. And I’m happy to report that the only chocolate I indulged in yesterday was a teeny tiny chick choc lollipop. Yeah, and, an even teenier tinier nibble of my Mr’s chick choc lollipop too. Oddly though since my abstinence from pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, we did have a small stack of those for dessert but hey, it was Easter Sunday.
Enough with the consumption justification it was Easter Sunday, I ate. World is in shock. But with Easter arriving, Lent is over. Those 2 of you who read that post will know that I gave up the bathroom scales for Lent and that this was quite a challenge for me as my motivation comes with every quarter pound that digital display can show me. And not always in a good way.
It started out well, though I did have to move the aforementioned weight measuring device from it’s usual spot on the bathroom floor as it seems that a sleepy step on to the scales after my AM ablutions is actually ingrained into my muscle memory now and I found myself going to do so on auto pilot.
The first week was difficult, but I tried to eat right, I counted my slimming world points, and I got plenty of exercise. Man did I run.
Then of course, it had to bloody happen didn’t it? A strain, a pop, a seventy two hour period of extended hobbling in which ankle, knee, thigh and hip just seemed to work together against me in a hot stretchy band of pain the debilitated my tubby self from the waist down.
Skipping all the interim frustration with the NHS for your ease of reading- The Doctor has banned all movement beyond a slow stroll until a full phsyio assessment can be carried out. Obviously this wont be until the end of April, thank you National Health. I sort of have myself to blame on this one for never pressing for treatment beyond ice and elevation after THAT marathon walk. This seems to be a compounded injury following this overnight effort in extreme perambulation. More boring details, must stop.
HOLY CRAP! Yes that’s right, no scales and no exercise. I’ll get fat(ter)! I’ll become lazy(er) and unfit(ter) and good god I’ll be moody (no moodier, I don’t think that’s possible)! AAAARGH!!!!!!
It certainly was a worry. What to do? Head down, carry on, try to avoid the evil.
It didn’t work.
The last month has seen some epic fall downs including several Pizza Nights (it needs capitalisation, trust me) with my partner in crime, frequent raids on the works chocolate vending machine and no less than 3 visits to the all you can eat Chinese buffet without even pretending I was going to stick to plain rice and vegetable dishes- one word: toffee apple fitters. Er…anyway I had pitfalls but I also established some great habits. I now walk to and from work pretty much every day (4 occasions of bus travel in 6 weeks due to rain or pain). I have moved over to Quinoa salads a few times a week for lunch, cut out the sugar in my school day coffees, started taking a chromium supplement to help my hulk like appetite swings (jury still out on that one). I tried. But my trying spirit was dampened by not being able to see results or being able to hit the problem in my favourite fashion of a long run and a lot of sit ups. I lost hope, dear reader, and I ate cake.
So, yesterday, lent is over, Christ is risen, the scales are no longer banned. I was on them as soon as I was out of bed. I wasn’t kidding myself, infact reviewing my dietary efforts, general feeling of sluggishness and evident dropping of the precious little muscle tone I had before- I was expecting a 6 to 8 pound increase which I would have accepted as universally fair, if undesirable.
I weigh exactly the same as I did on Shrove Tuesday.