Crunch Time

Huzzah! Last night, I did eighty sit-ups and I actually think it might have had some magical effect, because today I feel AWESOME. Could also be affected by the fact that I got a solid eight hours sleep... but I'm going to go with the sit-up theory.

So, I decided that normal sit ups are SERIOUSLY boring, so I decided to switch it up a little bit. With The Fiancé playing songs from the musicals - inspired by watching Hairspray all evening - and me in my pyjamas on a yoga mat in the middle of the room, I did ten reps of each of the following sets:

Crocodile crunches - raising arms straight and legs straight and meeting in the middle.

Reverse abdominals - holding legs straight up in the air, and then legs and bum off ground.

Half-half sit-ups - bringing yourself up into a sit up in two graduated moves. (x2)

Half-half sit ups with knees bent to side - bringing yourself up into a sit up in two graduated moves, with knees bent to the side. Repeated for left and right.

Cycle sit-ups - using cycling leg motions, and touching alternate knees.

Full pull-ups - a complete sit up, complete with The Fiancé holding my ankles down.

What a sight that must have been. Anyway - hurrah! I am very chuffed with myself. If only I could do that every night before bed... Well, we should all aim for something!

Really fancy sushi for lunch, so think I will indulge in Abokado today. Yummy and fresh! :)

Tonight is a big night out with the Lovely Ladies from work, and then on to some card games. Must avoid drinking cocktails. Fingers crossed, team.

Deepest Depressions

Today, I was horrified. Having been a VERY good girl for the last few days, with all my commitments to the stairs and eating (almost) no carbs and (mostly) low fat, I would have thought that there would be something positive to look forward to today when I jumped on my Wii Fit scales for a boost for the day.

So when my scales cringed under my hefty feet, and the television told me my BMI was too high, I looked up to see, to my horror, that I have gained weight. No, wait, what? GAINED? But I have been so good! I have cut down the amount I am eating to about half. I have upped my exercise - and am about to hit the gym effing hard at 6 o'clock. I am really disappointed :(

I'd love to con myself into thinking that it's muscle but it's not. I'm really not sure what's happened, but there is clearly something naughty slipping into my diet. Which is a shame, because I'm suffering from the usual Diet Symptoms: headachey, tired, breath that tastes like nail varnish remover (yum x_x). Oh, and NO FUN FOOD.

This is the worst day ever in the history of all days ever.

On the bright side, I don't find myself craving things like bread or chocolate. I don't even really think about them and, as such, don't keep reminding myself how much I miss them. Except for right now, of course!

Am in a bit of a grump today. Think I'll sign off here. Gym tonight, for crosstraining fun. Moo :(

P.S...

You should always enjoy your food.

Six Months

Saturday was the arrival of The Big Day. Well, not the actual big day, because that isn't until August. But the biggest day in reference to The (actual) Big Day so far. Six Months To Go.

Now, this on its own would already be impressive but, even more excitingly, I made the biggest commitment of my life so far (other than, you know, picking Him). I chose my wedding dress. I would go into details, but I know The Fiancé reads this so I can't...! Let's just say it was my first choice, and after a few attempts, I found myself reverting to it with certainty. It even made my Dad tear up a little bit. Possibly because he saw the price tag.

But in all seriousness: choosing the dress finally put my scales (both time and weighing) into perspective. Six months to the day. In one month's time, I will be measured, and all those numbers - hips, waist (or lack thereof), underboobs, overboobs - will be sent off to the Dress Fairies. And then, through some Cinderella-type Disney-esque magic, mice and birds will put my outfit together and my dress will be made. And, once made, it can be altered to a size less - and that's it.

What, wait, that's it?! A month today, I will commit my sizes and I can only drop a dress size from there. Nobody tells you this in the magazines! Where did that come from? That means the majority of weight-shifting work will have to happen in the next month, and the rest will be about severe toning.

I guess, if I'd thought about it, it makes sense. With a dress with an internal corset, losing too much will mean that all the structure will be, well, wasted (if you'll pardon the pun). But gosh, in some ways, my long-term motivation has been a little dashed.

However, counter-balancing to that - my short-term motivation is ON FIRE. I have run up every escalator and every set of stairs so far today, even though I'm wearing heels. I've had a non-carb breakfast, non-carb lunch, and I'm aiming for a non/low-carb dinner too. Oh, and a DVD session with Davina McCall tonight. If I've got one month to really cane myself, then I am going to. And then, I'm just going to enjoy watching all the wobbly bits tighten up.

Realistically, I'm not actually going to lose more than two dress sizes in six months - I think that would be unhealthy and, truth be told, I probably wouldn't keep it off. So maybe this is for the best... I just wish someone would have told me!

Anyway, as an aside: my lovely friend Helen sent me this to cheer me on, for which I am very grateful indeed!

Priscilla versus the Cookie Monster

Aha! So twenty-four hours have passed since I made my resolve! And, unfortunately, they have not been as strong as they could have been.

Not helped, of course, by my buying a bag of two giant cookies on Wednesday (prior to my wedding realisation, I hasten to add...) The Fiancé, doing the decent thing, left me my fair share.

*crafty glance sideways... glomp*

That thing was gone in an instant. And it was good, too. Caramel and chocolate, something extravagant and indulgent. Yum yum YUM. Followed with a glass of soy milk. One would think it was the perfect end to an evening.

Except, today, for the first time ever, I woke up with real and genuine Food Guilt. Perhaps it was the slow and serious realisation of what I had done. Having vowed to behave, I had not done so. I had given in to my baser needs. Not even needs - wants, desires. Sabotage. Now I've never murdered someone, but I think if I had, I would feel a bit like I felt this morning. I found myself thinking, 'What did I do that for?' Yes, it tasted really good. And yes, it hit the spot for that brief moment. But for the rush of pleasure... I now feel that I have to be super-hard on myself to make up for it.

Now, I know it seems silly, but exercise is something I am really, really not built for. Maybe it's all the curves - and not the good kinds. Not only do I have a muffin top, but also a cake shelf and a potato wedge. Oh, and some bajungas that really need strapping down three-times over before I can move with any sense of urgency.

Basically, I'm x stone 1 lb because I'm full of excuses. I looked at myself in the mirror and I felt genuinely sad. I don't want to be that girl. I want to look beautiful and glamorous and sexy and pretty on my wedding day, and I'm not at this rate.

And I thought, very simply, no more.

With a determined pace, I strode to the station, complete with giant arm movements. I ran down the escalators at Waterloo, and up those at Oxford Circus. I clambered up those five flights of stairs to my office. While today does not have a reasonable chunk of time to go to the gym in - there are little things I am determined to do to have even the smallest impact. I consider it penance for my sins but, actually, I'd be better to think of it as a nice little habit I can get in to with actual minimal effort for decent reward.

On the bright side, I feel a little better for it. Didn't have too heavy a lunch but am still suitably full. Will be running up and down the escalators again later to get my train home before a long drive home. And Monday is the beginning of one hell of an exercise plan...

Have a good weekend, all - rest, and be happy :)

Act 1, Scene 1: A dessert place

It has just occurred to me that, in six months and two days, I will be married.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Let's be honest. Breakfast consisted of fruit toast, elevenses of a cereal bar (and yes, I think elevenses are acceptable - if hobbits can, so shall I) and a lunch time sandwich. Not so bad, you might think. Except the sandwich was accompanied by a bag of crisps, and I snuck some chocolate in at around four.

If I'm going to be frank with myself: I am a terrible eater. Not only am I a terrible eater, I'm also a lazy little madam. I count running for the train as my daily exercise, which is wrong. I have programmed my mind into 'minimal effort' mode, and, over the next six months and two days, I am going to undo all of that twenty-four years of wrongdoing.

Wish me luck...