Slimming World III - This Tme it's Serious

I'm sorry if I'm boring you with yet another "fresh start" post.  To be honest I'm boring myself.  I wondered last night how many times I have been through exact same throught process and striven to lose these exact same lbs.  Tiring when you consider it - so I won't.


This last few weeks has been hectic: the fun and excitement of Rome; coming back home with a nasty cold; the weekend at my parents' for Dad's birthday; an away trip to Chesterfield for the football; a big local derby on Sunday.  I have paid lip service only to food restraint and exercise and used all of the above as excuses NOT to get stuck in.


It seems harder to get going and drop lbs because I'm too happy.  What a terrible excuse.  Before, I struggled to get going because I was unhappy, had little self-confidence and was resentful about being made to feel bad.  But, once I got going, I at least had the assistance of a disapproving tut (or full-scale slagging) from D and the fear of failure to keep me at it.  Now, I struggle to get going because I'm happy, my life is full, Richard wants me to take part in everything we do together which includes eating and drinking and he fancies me anyway.  Talk about irony.


I have been mulling though and I know that I DO want to drop this extra weight for me AND for us.  I know that I am happier when I'm slimmer and fitter and I do NOT want to get any fatter.


I had one of Mrs L's "lightbulb moments" which is quite simple really - I will still be happy and enjoy life if I say no to the nice treats which now litter my lifestyle (most of the time).  In fact, thinking back, I'm usually happier when my diet and exercise regime are under control.  So, rather than using events like the big game on Sunday as a reason NOT to diet, diet through them.  Okay, so I won't be able to drink 5 pints of bitter or cider in a day but I can still go to the pub with everyone, have a couple of glasses of wine or a rum & diet coke and probably enjoy it every bit as much.


Likewise, biscuits in the house, toast, the odd half a bottle of wine here and there and all the other extras which have skulked back into my life.  Last summer/autumn when I managed to slowly but surely drop 12lbs without a great deal of difficulty, I did have some of these extras from time to time but only occasionally and only one of them each day.  Since then, the restraint has gradually disappeared and the exercise has declined.  THAT must be the difference.


I went to my SW weigh-in last night and discovered that I've gained 3.5lbs since before Rome which takes me to 1lb OVER where I started last summer.  Sigh.  But I went.  And I'm clinging onto that mantra - you cannot fail until you give up.  I have not given up.  I have not failed.


I came home and chatted it through with Richard.  It was lovely.  No angst or accusations, just love, sympathy and support.  He gave me a cuddle, listened to what I had to say, offered suggestions about what I was doing before when it was working and what I'm not doing now (obviously he can see what I'm eating and drinking now and can be a bit more objective than me).  He offered his support and empathised.  It was no big deal.  I could have cried. 


Then, while watching TV later, he helpfully finished off the last 2 choc chip shortbread cookies (apologising as he did so) and didn't comment when I drooled on his arm like a hungry labrador....