Not a sniff of a breeze

The blind, healthy living campaign (i.e. not weighing myself) is going pretty well so far. Yes, I've had a few treats here and there (and a lot of booze) over the weekend but I also went out for two runs - both just over 5km.

I've done sweet FA when it comes to running, this year and so I was really pleased that not only am I getting out there but that I'm managing the distances I am without too much bother. I'm taking a few minutes longer than I'd like but I know I'll improve if I keep it up. Which of course, I will!

So I was feeling pretty good. Was. I made moussaka for dinner last night and the portion was pretty big so I felt kinda bloated, not helped by the fact I polished off a packed of white mice. A short while later while perusing Facebook, I clocked two pictures of me, taken yesterday by two different people. They were horrendous. I looked like a massive blob in both of them. A massive fat blob. Awful. Really awful. I cannot remember seeing such a bad picture of me for a long time.

I saw pictures of me from a few weeks ago and they were no where near as bad. I've not gained any weight since then and I while I wasn't exactly jumping for joy about the size of my arse, I thought I looked okay. These two pics from yesterday have totally knocked the wind out my sails. Imagine a little sail boat just bobbing about on its own in the sea - with not a puff of air to help it. Does that make you sad? It bloody well should cause it's got on the verge of tears.

I'm trying to remain rational and not go totally bat-shit crazy. That's what I do. I react. I blow up - but within moments I've got things in perspective and I am working through the practicalities of it all, my brain pinging with positive thoughts.

Not today, people. Not today. I am struggling with this.

It's not like I've been going bonkers and ingesting anything and everything that's not nailed down. I've been good! I've been out running for crying out loud. I don't really know where I am going with this.... It's pissed me off and I feel particularly shite about it all.

I moaned to TB about it who tried to suggest the jeans I was wearing in the picture are not the most flattering. I knew they weren't a brilliant fit but I am telling you, I am never wearing them again. Although this just means I am going to have to go shopping for more which is just another giant ball ache.

AND the surveyor for my flat is underpricing the rental income (even though I can prove how much I get and it's a good bit more than they think it should get) which means I can't release as much equity as I would like. AND our solicitor thinks we will have to delay our move in date by two weeks. Pissed OFF.