False Sense

So let's see. Took a year to lose 5.5 stone. Took 8 weeks to go absolutely nowhere. In all likelihood, it will by tomorrow have taken 4 weeks to put a stone back on. Is that enough to lull my body into a false sense of fat-fuckery, so that when I kick its ass with more exercise, more discipline, less food, a higher metabolism and all the stuff that worked before, I can break through the neuro-psychological barrier that says my body doesn't want to be smaller than 15 stone?

No of course I'm not claiming this was all some sort of cunning plan. What this was was the breaking of my discipline and a thoroughly enjoyable glimpse of what fees to me like normality. But in all likelihood tomorrow I'll be 16 stone again. I haven't biked with discipline for weeks on end. Sure, I've added the spin class into my mix, but I've broken the walking habit, stopped going to the gym, and stopped going to aquacise, so all in all, my exercise level is at a year-and-a-half low. And, as we all know, I'm now eating desserts more often than at any point in the last two years - so it's fair to say that all the elements of my Disappearing regime have been blown six ways from Monday. Clearly, that has to change.

This week, I'm spinning tomorrow morning. Wednesday morning, I'm reinstating the morning walk, the lunchtime walk, and the evening gym/swim combo. Thursday, morning walk and evening aquacise. Friday, morning spin and...something else. See what the body makes of that...

Meanwhile, I'm prepared for the news tomorrow - and I'm not gonna bitch about it, because I've enjoyed the stuff that's put me back up a bit. But, as I've said for the last couple of weeks, 16 is where it ends. Halfway is where it ends. There may, at various points along the way, be other months like this - months of Rumspringa, months off the discipline. But now, we have to kick it back into shape and push down at least another few stones before we consider easing off again. Let's say no sleep till 12.5!