Archive for April, 2009|Monthly archive page

Woman overboard

In Uncategorized on April 17, 2009 at 2:31 pm

I caught sight of my arse in a changing room mirror today and almost cricked my next spinning around to reassure myself that it wasn’t me. Which it was, obviously.

I was trying on white capri pants for next week’s cruise. These were capri pants I’d already bought – I took them back, tried them on again in a bigger size and realised that the 10 fit just as well as the 12, and when I say ‘well’ I mean that I looked like a blubber whale in either size. I was too mortified to try anything on to replace them so I shall just throw them back in my wardrobe and pretend I don’t own them.

I don’t understand when this lack of definition in my physique occurred. I used to go in and out and have some muscle definition. Now I just go out, and then further out. My arse looks like I have two buoyancy aids down my trousers, and given that in a week I’ll be in the middle of the Med on a boat, this concerns me.

I’ve never been on a boat before; not a big one with bedrooms. I believe their are rules on ballast and so on, and ultimately, I am concerned that the ship will list to starboard or similar when I go to sleep, ot that someone will grab my legs to stay afloat in the case of a Titanic-scale tragedy (they will regret that move as we will plummet to the nearest wreck and be eaten by fishes before you can say ‘I’m sinking’.

Worse still, the weather report isn’t spectacular and I am torn in two directions – part of me thinks if it’s not hot and sunny, there will be less cause to expose my bleached and beached body to fellow holiday-makers, who let’s face it, could have gone to a farm if they wanted to see a pot bellied pig, and not shelled out on a posh two-week boat trip, while the other part of me is aware that I look thinner when I’m brown, but then I might block out the sun when I lumber on to the deck, waddling along in my silver diamante sandals. I have gone overboard (see what I did there) buying holiday sandals because my feet are the only parts of me that don’t fluctuate in size.

I can pretty much wager that I will come back a good half a stone heavier because the food on these holidays is meant to be outstanding, but I can also say that sadly for me, there won’t be many photos of me because I don’t want to be immortalised digitally in my current state, thanks.

There is a gym on board, and I am packing trainers, plus we’ll be doing a lot of walking through Rome, Monaco, Sorrento and Dubrovnik, but I think that the damage has been done and won’t be easily undone.

The week I get back, I’ll be investing in four personal training sessions. It grieves me that I’ll have to pay someone to get me back on track and express disgust and disappointment at my lack of willpower and sense of pride, but I come face to face (and indeed, arse to face) with it every day in the mirror, so maybe a super-fit honed gym fascist is the only thing that will haul me off the slippery slope and set me back on the straight and narrow path I fell off six or so months ago. Here’s hoping.


O willpower, wherefore art thou?

In Uncategorized on April 9, 2009 at 10:47 am

Confession time.

I’ve not updated on my diet in weeks because I am ashamed. I have turned into that thing that lives in a dustbin in Sesame Street and eats whatever crap is hurled its way.

I am sure I fit the description of a binge-eater without actually having an eating disorder. I’ll start as I mean to go on, with nutritious seeds and grains for breakfast and masses of fruit, but at some point in the day; usually around 9.04am, it all goes wrong and I get more cravings than a pregnant recovering addict.

People laughed at the orange food plan, but that was a damn sight healthier than the diet I’ve adapted to of late:

Friday: Frantically busy all day. 3 cans Coke Zero, slice of cake as someone’s birthday. Visited friend (and baby), had a chicken korma with rice.

Could do better.

Saturday: Gym session (negates all food eaten for rest of day), followed by mid afternoon mini pork pie and Laughing Cow cheese triangle, then talked into my first Chinese in a year – sweet & sour chicken and prawns, noodles.

Am sure calories eaten trounced calories burned off.

Sunday: Another gym workout. Hurrah. 3 glasses wine, seabass fillets, leeks, baby potatoes & unidentified green vegetable in a lemon and chervil sauce. Oh, and half a Dairy Milk Turkish Delight bar.

Would be passable if I hadn’t glugged the wine and chocolate.

Monday: tuna sandwich, crisps, 3 cans coke zero, a gym workout – standing ovation please – wholemeal pasta with meatballs, mushrooms & peppers, slice of chocolate birthday cake.

Was boyfriend’s birthdaythe following day – is allowed.

Tuesday: Boyfriend’s actual birthday. Jacket potato with beans and cheese at client lunch, then my efforts to have a salad at a restaurant scuppered by outrageous waiting time, forced to once more eat a curry (I’m not actually mad about them). Prawn tikka massala, 1/2 portion of rice and some naan, here we come. One the plus side, too full for cake. Once more, managed an hour in the gym so full credit due for that.

Wednesday: Still celebrating birthday…3 cans coke zero, tuna sandwich, prawn cocktail crisps. Then out to dinner at 1709 brasserie – tucked into mussels followed by spinach & goats cheese risotto, then creme brulee.

Made me feel a little ill during the night – poss the mussels. So all I can think about now is a bacon sandwich, though I have resisted. But I am starving. Tonight we head down to Devon to see the boyfriend’s family, where we will no doubt eat our bodyweight twice over as Elizabeth makes such delicious cakes and prepares such gorgeous feasts, and I won’t be hitting the gym until Tuesday.

Which gives me ONE WEEK to lose ONE STONE before I head off on my cruise – odds: slim.

I saw a stunning dress in Monsoon today and realised that if I hadn’t shelled out so much on eating out in the past week, I could have afforded it, and looked better in it than I would with my little food baby in tow.


Shiny and clean

In Uncategorized on April 8, 2009 at 2:22 pm

I have been whinging for weeks about the ongoing two year saga with the bathroom, but I’m happy to report that despite being skint now, my bathroom is gleaming, courtesy of some extremely laborious tiling and plumbing and some expert painting from the boyfriend.

My new tenant has the satisfaction of being the first to enjoy the shiny and clean facilities, and I can only look enviously at the photos and wish my own bathroom was shiny and new.





See, doesn’t it make you just want to jump in and get scrubbing?!