Les Mills is a bastard

Tomorrow is weigh day. And it's gonna be a whole lotta faff.

I'm making the transition to the new scales and I'm doing this while at my folk's house as TB and I are heading there tonight so we can make a sharp exit southwards for a four days of music festival mayhem.

The plan is to weigh myself on my old scales and see if I've lost any weight (if they play ball that is). I'll then weigh myself on the new scales knowing what I think I was on them last week - based on the different between the two. Whoooa! Whoa. I think my brain just melted. What the crap am I blethering on about? That was quite a bit of crazy that just leaked out there. I'm gonna weigh in and hopefully I can work out if I've lost some weight. How about that? Better. Then after that I'll chuck the old scales.

I'm feeling confident for tomorrow as on the food front over the past week, things have gone very well. I am most pleased. I've been a bit slack with exercise but I did have a couple of good gardening stints over the weekend and Bodypump on Monday. Even if I hadn't been crazy busy trying to get fancy dress costumes organised for the festival there is no way I could have moved more than the bare minimum as thanks to bodypump, walking, standing up, sitting down, lying down, sitting up - well just moving at all - is agony!

Oh my god my poor thighs are aching. It's like hot rods are being drive into my femurs by Les Mill himself. The bastard. It's not so bad once I've been moving around but if I've been sitting still for a while and then I get up. Holy fuck.There he is again.

It's an early weigh in as I've got the dentist at 8.10am so the chances are I shall update you from the waiting room. Whatever the numbers are up to, I am feeling good. I feel positive. I'm ready to keep this train a rolling.