One Sweet At A Time?

I've had an interesting weekend. Couple of reactions to the Culinary Lemming Syndrome post on addiction. One from a Facebook friend, who said she knew the feeling, and that she was now addicted to feeling thin.

I have a nasty slick sickening feeling that I might come to know what she means - I certainly don't want to, but I guess now, in some respects, there's an element of truth in it - If I'm not eating madly, and I'm not doing this, I really don't know what the alternative would be, now or ever. That's pretty much because I've only ever done one or the other, so it's got a black-and-white quality to it.

Also, d didn't get to read that one till the following day. I was pedalling my ass off at the time she read it, and she came sort of bashfully grinning in from the kitchen and kissed me.

"I don't think you'll never be able to have nice things," she said. "I really don't. Mind you, I don't know what addiction's really like."

"'s'like being a racehorse, honey," I told her, "with no control over where you go and what you do, and some shouty, whip-happy fuck riding on your back from start to ultimate finish..."

"Well...I still hope you'l be able to have nice things," she said, giving me a hug - which in itself was tricky, cos I was sweating like...well, like a racehorse, now I think about it, on the bike.

I hope she's right of course, but I don't at this point hold out a huge amount of hope for that. Perhaps, if I get down to the ideal weight, and maybe into the 'porn window' I'm trying to get (the porn window, for anyone who doesn;'t know, is an extra half-stone I figured I'd try and lose precisely to let myself have a week-long dessert orgy - see, even then, I wasn't talking in terms of rational behaviour or restraint, it's like talking to the Cookie Monster!), I might experiment with desserts...
One sweet at a time, Sweet Jesus...
Like I say, knowing me, I'm not sure that would work at all, but maybe, when I get down there, it'll be something to experiment with, and if it looks like I'm hurtling back out of control, I can (hopefully) resurrect my perspex walls double quick and wrestle myself back under control. The good thing of course is that now I know what a stubborn bastard I can be, it might be possible. Guess we'll see.

Rest of the weekend has been good, but too fast. I've managed a couple of twenty mile biking stints, which always helps one feel virtuous going into a week Hoping, once again, to start back on my morning walking tomorrow. Who knows, maybe the 'addictive' part of this whole process, and the hope of maybe breaking the 3.5 stone barrier, or even seeing my first 16 on Tuesday, will drag my ass out of bed tomorrow in time to do something productive...

Or perhaps this particular 'racehorse' will stay under his blanket till it's time to run. Don't say I never give you a decent cliffhanger...