This week feels far from the triumphant return to Disappearing form I was hoping for. Instead, it feels like Tuesday's 'four stone' result was the quick-snatched breath of a drowning man, caught in the undertow of calories and fat. Tuesday I did a lot of walking. Since then, practically nothing - no walking, no biking, and frankly very little time to do any tonight either.
This morning, I had a severe case of SBF - or Stubborn Bastardy Failure, to the uninitiated. The alarm went off at 6.30, and I did some rapid math - the cold and wet and walking added up to a less attractive option than the warm and snuggly and snoring. And perhaps dangerously, the joy of Disappearing simply didn't add up at that point either.
What's more, I had soup for both breakfast and lunch today, and reached for a piece of bread with the first of them. Mmm....bread gooood. I reached for another. And before I looked up, I'd had three slices. Now, let's talk TMI.
I said a couple of days ago that I could really have done without those adorable calorie-scamps at Starbucks telling me exactly how much energy I was pouring into myself with my bucket of chosen pointlessness. So quite why I reached for the bread bag and interrogated its table of contents, I'm not entirely sure. Masochism, probably. Three slices, at no less than 135 calories per slice though whacked me in the face with the frying-pan of panic and guilt. Adding 150 calories of soup meant it was a huge wobbly arse of a breakfast, and I don't feel like the day has ever quite recovered from that.
Which is probably the moment to mention I had pizza for dinner. Complete SBF from start to finish today. Gonna try not to stress about the fact that a day like this probably equates to a pound and a half or more of regrown blubber. Instead, I'm gonna try and get on the bike for a while before heading to bed, then go snore, get up, and wake up the Stubborn Bastard you know and laugh at.
Sigh...
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