Big breath. Or maybe it's more of a sigh. Yeah, I think it's a sigh.
Before you read any further, I should reveal I'm not in a positive frame of mind right now. The slinkiest of our two young boys is currently at the vets with a broken back leg. We came home from work last night to find him like that. We think he's been hit by something, probably a car. The vet's just called to say he needs to be referred to a specialist and the bill is going to be around £2000. It's that or amputation. At just over a year old, amputation doesn't seem fair. Before you ask if we've got insurance, don't.
I don't want to say any more about than that for now.
What I really need to talk about is my weight. I don't want to talk about it, hence the lack of posts, but I know I need to get my shit together. Here's where things are at. I'm 11lbs heavier than I was on my wedding day. It's gone like this.
Wedding: 11stone 13.75
Home from honeymoon: 12 stone 10.5
Pre camp: 12 stone 5.5
Home from camp: 12stone 10.5
A week later: 12stone 11
A week later: 12 stone 10.75
Today: 12 stone 11lbs
You get the gist. I'm pretty much dicking about, good style.
Once we got home from camp I really struggled to get it together for even one day before buckling and eating a whole load of whatever took my fancy. You know that feeling when you think, "Just one day. Please let me get through one day of eating the right things. That's what I need to get me started; 24 sodding hours."
Well, finally last week I managed those 24 hours. Yes! "This is it", I thought. "Here we go. Time to get into the single figures in the 12s. I am on it!" And so for the rest of the week I was feeling positive. I had a double workout on Thursday, I ran on Friday and I feel like I made good choices all week. I got on the scales this morning and there it was - a gain. Sure it was a gain on 0.25lbs, so pretty much a stay the same, but it's not what I was expecting.
I just feel so despondent about the whole thing. The thought of mustering the energy to dig deep to find some motivation is exhausting in itself. There is a whole load of ambivalence I feel about it all - and have done for weeks. And that is manifesting itself in my actions. When I was complaining to TB that I'd put on weight this week which I didn't think was fair, he then very easily listed quite a few things I'd had which weren't 'good'. A whole M&S pizza for tea, half a bag of percy pigs, a couple of creamy cocktails. Hmmm. So I'm kidding myself on. I'm not really 'doing it'.
I can't really articulate why this makes it worse, but my mum is losing weight like a demon and TB is back on his lots of small meals, healthy eating plan and will no doubt start dropping the pounds too. They are both going to slim down and I'm just fannying about here feeling pissed off with myself, but totally unmotivated.