Metabolic Swings and Disappearing Roundabouts

No blood result this morning. I woke up on the couch, still not entirely believing it was real, and in the dark.
"Morning honey," said d, proffering a bowl of hot gorgeousness.
"Mmm...umph," I said, aiming for "Wow, thanks baby," and clearly failing. I blinked. It seemed as hard as a push-up, frankly.
"Been awake since 5.30," said d. "Packing boxes."
"Urr...umph?" I said.
"Woke up. Couldn't go back to sleep," she explained.
I scratched myself.
"Armmph..." I said, sympathetically.
d turned on the TV, and the Breakfast team popped up, already wittering.
"Urgle," I said, nodding at the screen, and beginning to shovel hot porridge into myself.
An item was clearly ending. Some tall, skinny blonde woman was affirming to the world.
"Well of course, the more weight you lose, the harder it will get, because your metabolism slows down as it doesn't have to cope with so much..."
"Thank you Arabella Bleeding-Obvious. We'll never return to you, ever, despite showing a report about mistreatment in home care seven times in the next hour..." was what I thought  the male presenter said. He might as well have - she was there, and then she was gone, like a blonde, skinny portent of doom.

I'd be lying of course if I told you this was definitively the reason why, after some extraordinary weeks and months, things appear to have slowed down in the Disappearing stakes - the fact is, I'm not doing the morning walks I used to do, I'm not doing as many of the evening walks as I used to do, and I'm probably eating more carb than is strictly advisable. But while Arabella was depressing in the sense of counteracting my own feeling of nearly being at the top of the bill hill of weightloss (at 4.5 stone, I technically reach the halfway point), in another sense, it's sort of fun to have a tall blonde woman on the TV tell you you're too successful to succeed, that you've lost too much for it to be easy to lose any more...

Of course, only having had a snippet of Arabella to judge from, I may be hopelessly deluding myself - as I still, by any standard, have a lot of weight to lose, maybe the metabolic issue is yet to properly kick in. I've hit what might be called plateaus at various stages of this experiment, but at most of them, I've been able to chart my own failings, or falterings, and log reasons why I think things have happened, without particularly bringing in the factor of a slowing metabolism. Overall, not that keen to bring that element in now either - as I say, I'm not working as hard at this point as I did in the early stages, and I'm probably eating more than - at this stage - I should be.

There is of course always something better and more fun and more pressing to think about than the discipline of Disappearing. It's not fun, or anywhere near fun, to do, so there are always better things to think about. At the moment of course, my better things to think about are largely tied up with the move that appears to be impending something rotten since we got the go-ahead. Two and a half weeks from now, we do the box run. Three and a half weeks from now, d leaves. Four and a half weeks from now, I leave - oh and by the way, shoppers, it's Christmas! In between all that, I have a magazine to put together, a business quote to put together in the first seven dimensions that come to hand, another visit to Nottingham (me and Robin Hood, we're like that...oi, keep the Friar Tuck jokes to yourself!), and a three day conference to attend here int he heart of London. Plus of course a 'farewell tour' of friends and places to fit in.

Still - on to the boxes! If nothing else, I suppose, box-lifting is more muscle-building that fat-burning, which is good for a change right about now...