Blood was a fairly damning 6.7 this morning, rather suggesting the first suggestion I made about it recently - that without any of the one particular med I've been taking, I'm slipping further and further towards the top end of the safe blood sugar zone.
On the other hand, as d pointed out, neither Mondays, nor the last week since Wednesday, have been particularly high-energy for me - I've done some biking, certainly, but nothing compared to the range of different mad activities of recent weeks. Should undoubtedly get my swim back on (got new goggles now!), and even vaguely wonder about paying full price for the next month at the gym (while maintaining my GP referral schedule), to really push on through.
Can't afford to do that, if I'm honest, but it sort of glistens there, all twinkly and possible on the horizon of my mind.
Things will change weirdly from tomorrow though. And why will things change weirdly from tomorrow, I hear you all entirely fail to mutter.
Well, things will change from tomorrow because, in a fairly stunning example of why she's the brains of the outfit, d has been for one job interview since she's been in Wales - and got the job. She starts tomorrow. Which means a change in our world, from lots of lovely shared time, to her getting out by 8 in the morning, leaving me here to do...whatever it is I'm supposed to do for a living. I forget, frankly.
If nothing else, that'll be an incentive to get up earlier, and get back to some sort of early morning exercise routine (yep, probably back to the swimming I should think). So while in very many ways, it's a suckass development, in terms of getting some extra cash into our lives and in terms of force-feeding me routine, it's a positive thing.
We talked about what we'd do with our day, being as it was both Valentine's Day and the last day of d's home-making freedom. In the end, she said she wanted 'a normal day,' so I've been here in my little white cupboard-room most of the day, and she's been in her kitchen. We both blew off aquacising and the gym today, and I'm telling you now, I'm not even going to bike tonight, so nehh! It's Valentine's Day, I'm having it off...so to speak.
Oh yeah - Tuesday. Woohoo. Weigh-in results this morning:
15 stone 3.75.
Down a whole revolutionary pound on last week. At this rate I won't quite make it to the 5.5 stone mark by the time the first Disappearing Year ends. Still, as I say, things change tomorrow, maybe I can pick up enough pace to get there.
Not that it'll bring me anywhere close to this guy. This is Zac Smith, apparently - bloke from Rhoose, near Cardiff, who went the other way - the surgical way - after hitting 50 stone. That's 317 kg or 700 pounds. He's had a good year, by the looks of things, dropping a shedload of weight, and starting to live again.
If the schmaltz of Valentine's Day is too much for you and you happen to live in Wales, you can catch Zac's story tonight on Week In Week Out at 22.35 on BBC 1 Wales.
I don't normally do commercials of course, but WIWO is something special - it's the first place ever to pay me money for anything even resembling journalistic work, way back in the day. So unless you get a better V-Day offer, catch Zac's story - if nothing else, it'll show you a) that Disappearing is a road we all go down in our own way and our own time, and b) that having the surgery's not a one-stop solution, and that it's still bloody hard work. It'll also show you what I think both Zac and I could tell you till the cows come home, get bored and go out again - it's so bloody worth it we could cry.
No comments:
Post a Comment