Dieting in December is a silly idea

I have been on a diet for the last 4 weeks.  I have lost 13lbs. Thank you, thank you (takes a bow).


Christmas threatens to undo all my hard work. Maybe it was a dumb idea to try and lose weight in the run up to the Season to Be Jolly, but you have to start somewhere.  But at this time of year comes the inevitable socialising, partying, drinking and over-indulgence.  It is just so hard to resist beautifully prepared calorie-laden temptations as they are laid before me.  And I am polite to the core and refusal would be so, well, rude.  So let's just say that the last two Saturdays have been, um, non-diety.

The world is out to get me.  You should see our counter tops at my office.  They are smothered in well-meaning chocolate flavoured goodies, thank-you gifts of naughtiness sent from one department to another, and fancy biscuits and cookies that squeak to me as I walk past.  

"Eat me, eat me" they cry, and when I can bare their pain no longer, I oblige.  Three times.


We should resort to sending inter-departmental thank-you pencils, or some other non-fattening and non-threatening treat.


I have been mostly following a no-sugar, low-carb, higher-protein type regime.  I chose this because I am probably a diabetic-in-waiting.  That and the fact I have put on 12lbs since sitting on my ample derriere in my job this past year. Not good.  It's probably about the only "diet" that I have not tried before - but it's working and I am mentally in the right place.  Which is what all successful weight-loss is all about when it comes down to it - your mental attitude.  I've known for decades what I should eat - I just didn't want to.


However, I don't think I'll ever be a huge fan of that "exercise" stuff - it requires discipline, lung capacity and three hours in a private room to return to a normal colour.  And I didn't even mention sports bras.


Popping out to the gym in my lunch hour is not going to happen, and I have neither the time nor the inclination to work out before or after a working day.

I did try Zumba classes for a while which were enormous fun, extremely sweat-inducing and hard for my knees, but the timing clashed badly with the need to pick up Daughter Number One from her ballet class.  My most legitimate excuse ever.  But if you ever want a laugh, try Zumba. Maybe another time for me.


And then, of course, Saturday and Sunday mornings inevitably require lying in bed until at least 9am, followed by household chores, entertaining or taxi-ing children around and trying to remember to drink lots of water and ponder some more excuses.  See - no time for exercise when you think about it.  (Does thinking about exercise count?  Or walking around a shopping mall?)


So wish me well over the next two weeks - I want to lose another 15lbs in total.  And I've put the idea out there now, so I have to keep going.  Perhaps the Christmas/New Year season can be blanked out on my little graph and then I'll just carry on from 3rd January?  If I can keep off those first 13lbs I will be one happy bunny.


Florida, t-shirts and shorts, and the need to be seen (in public, aagghh) in the dreaded swimsuit all beckon in the Spring.  That, and the silly decision of going on holiday with a very slim friend are the motivation I need to dust off all those lovely tops in my wardrobe.  

The only whale I want to see in my holiday photos is Shamu.


Have a wonderful, joyful and peaceful Christmas everyone and if you can't be good, then have another choccie for me.

What I really need is .....

... a nice, decent bout of 72-hour stomach flu.   Something that will make me lose about 10lbs in a week.

I will reluctantly admit that I am a bit chubby.  Not obese-fat, but nothing that losing 30lbs wouldn't hurt.  I am over the ideal weight, whatever that really means.

Well, what it means is that while my jeans do feel a bit tight, there is no way in hell that I am buying the next size up - that's what it really means.


Now some people, when they get a toothache, cannot eat properly.  Not me. I bravely - nay valiantly - work through all tooth pain and manage to squish or pulp my food so I can still stuff my little face.


Some people, when they feel rough, nauseous, or ill - well, they lose weight.  They can't stand the sight and smell of food.  Who are these people for godsake?  It's food!  Apparently though, they are "normal".


When pregnant, I was still throwing my guts up at 20-weeks.  But I fought on, ensuring that me and my growing tummy were not deprived of a few calories.  Unselfish to the core, that's me.

I've been off work for a few days this week with a bad back.  Nothing major, thankfully - but painful and awkward enough to prevent me from doing much at all.  Sharp pains under my shoulder blade take the breath out of me.  I've twisted or pulled something and it's just really annoying.  But it's not slimming.


I'm the kind of person who returns to work after a few days off sick and I look "healthier" - read rounder-faced.  Just for one day, I'd love someone to tell me I'm looking gaunt.


Despite switching from a standing position to laying prostate on the sofa flicking listlessly through the channels of some incredibly awful daytime TV (except for Extreme Makeover: Bawling-Your-Eyes-Out Home Edition), me and my bad back can still manage to haul my ass over to the pantry to rifle through the bowl of Halloween goodies.

It occurs to me this morning (feeling quite a bit better now thank you) that I have scoffed 21 mini bars of chocolate in the last three days.  Yes, 21.  I hang my head in shame - and my three chins and tummy follow.


Even the heavenly aroma of Rub-A535 (for my UK readers, it's like Deep Heat) or the tingling from funky patches can't thwart my appetite.

I would normally protesteth too much at this point and explain to you that I do know how to eat healthily.  I have a well-balanced diet - yes, yes, a glass of wine in one hand and a slice of cake in the other.  I eat well, I cover all my food groups, and you'd be impressed with my fibre-intake (and therefore my output, hee hee - OK, too much information).  I just seem to have an issue with portion control.  I love food.  Simple as that.  'Tis one of life's pleasures.

Now then  - you know when I mentioned that lovely warm weather the other week, and it snowed?


If I mention a 72-hour stomach flu now, will the karma fairies return and help me get back into those jeans?  OK, be careful what you wish for, and all that .... 


Have a happy, healthy and slimming week folks, and, sigh, if that doesn't work, we still have choccie in my cupboards.  See you in half an hour.