Saturday, 21 June 2014

The Tiniest Triumph

It's a strange moment in these early stages. I'm not sure the loss is continuing, because if anything I feel pretty lumpy, but I'm still doing the right things at least, and currently trusting and holding true to those things in relative cluelessness about what's going to happen Tuesday.

Did my early morning six miles this morning, stopped off in McDonalds for 200 calories of plain porridge and a water.
Sian met d and I there, and one mug of coffee, large, with semi-skimmed milk, was had back at home.

Lunch was a sort of cheese and chicken salad, which d whipped up. Had three plums and an apple throughout the morning to keep the metabolism ticking over.

Tonight we went out for dinner before heading to see the Jersey Boys movie (Capsule review: So, so slow and lifeless). Dinner for me was a sort of very wet tomato and courgette risotto (apparently sub-500 calories), with a chicken breast (couple of hundred, I'm estimating) and two apple and raspberry J2Os - 86 calories. Given that the Gestapo phone by that point registedabout 18,000 steps and over 1,100 burned, I'm pretty much equating the walk to the dinner, meaning I've done today on porridge, fruit, salad and a coffee.

But for all the lumpy feeling, there has been one glimmering moment today. One tiny triumph to report.

A few weeks ago, d handed me a pair of trousers that should have fit me.
I could barely get my legs into them, let alone do them up over the flabby expanse of my gut.

Tried them on again today, and they did up.
Now mind you, they did up in a kind of straining, "She's gonna blow!" fashion that meant had I kept them on and decided to bend up to pick a £50 note off the floor, I'd have had to spend it on a new pair of trousers, but still - feels like evidence, in the absence of a weigh-in, that things are at least going in the right direction.

Am also still absolutely, easily, resolute about the perspex walls. d's offered me yoghurt today. And chips. And both times I didn't even have to think about it. No - I'm on a Disappearing jag, and it seems to be a proper one, where the mind is driving, rather than the simple necessity or hope or optimism.

Liking this really rather a lot. Back down the Trail in the morning, but there probably won't be a blog tomorrow night - we're in Cardiff, seeing the Bay City Rollers (Oh yeah!), Showaddywaddy (Squee!), David Essex (Hope he sings something from War of the Worlds!), and the Osmonds.

I know...how cool are we?!

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