Today. Today is the day I am getting a grip. Even as I type this, my grasp around the chubby neck of my diet is tightening. That's right I'm metaphorically strangling the fat me.
The past, oh I don't know... week or so has been bad. The weekend? Let's just not go there. Horrific. I feel awful just now. Those pounds that I ever so slowly chipped off over the past few months are more than likely right back on again. I'm bloated, wobbly and worried about what I'm going to wear over the next few weeks and throughout the festive season. I have far too many parties, nights out and social affairs to be recycling the same two items of clothing!
I've not weighed myself but it doesn't matter. As of today - I cannot let any state of affairs exist other than being on plan. I have no option. I don't really care too much what the scales say come Christmas Time but I know I have to feel better than I do now. Three weeks on plan could make me feel a lot better.
Porridge for breakfast, soups and lean meat for lunches, meat, fish and veg for dinners. Lots of water. Lots of fruit. Move more. That's is what is happening for 21 days.
I'm going to the gym tomorrow and am spinning on Thursday. This shit is happening.