The High Point

All downhill from here? Looked like, but then notsomuch.

When a weigh-in is the high point of your day, you’re either having a great weigh-in or a shitty day. Or sometimes, even, you’re having both.

Both would be the box into which I popped my cross today.

First, the good stuff. Weighed in before walking this morning, and tipped the scales at 18st 10.75. So Yay – finally broken that 19st hump that’s been dogging my ass for the longest time. Ya-freakin’-hoo. What’s more, I didn’t just sneak into the 18s, but strode, boldly and majestic into them and set up my carb-light picnic table there. For those just catching up, that’s a 4.25 lb loss this week – in other words, it’s the water I expected to lose last week, finally catching on and sodding off. Total loss so far – 6.25 lbs in fourteen days. Happy. 

Next goal – lose another four pounds and see the underside of 18st 7. This is a totally arbitrary mark as far as annnnnyone non-British is concerned, but for the Brits, it’s a half-stone mark (14 lbs=1 stone – I don’t freakin’ know why, it probably dates back to the Dark Ages and we’re just too damn stubborn to let go of it – so 18st 7 is 18 and a half stone). After that, I guess technically the next milestone should be 18st 3 lbs, which would be the “stone” marker of loss, but I prefer to go with 18st, and generally do things from then on using the objective stone and half stone markers, rather than the subjective ones of, for example, 18st 3 and 18st 10, because – well, frankly they’re confusing and annoying in almost equal measure, so let’s simply not, shall we?

Since then, the day’s gone downhill – walked around the lake with my heart well and truly not in it, shifted some more stuff at Ma’s and appear to have got some half-ton (don’t get me started on those) of dust up my nose, meaning I’m coming down with some sort of sinus…malarkey. Which means as everybody’s glorying in the great, sunny weather, I look and sound like I’m half a footstep away from death by pneumonia.

What’s more, the world appears to have decided that I don’t have quite enough deadline pressure on my shoulders at the minute, and that what I really need is a potentially holiday-knackering additional chunk of stuff.

So – all in all, wasn’t in a terribly happy bunny mood when I started this entry. Since then though, things have improved mightily, and have included a higher high point than the weigh-in. 

Wrote a review of an audio play by established author Paul Magrs, and the lovely man not only shared it with his Facebook friends, saying great things about me, but agreed to be interviewed and put me in touch with his Welsh publishers to get hold of an advance eProof of his latest book. So – holiday reading, sorted, plus I’ve learned of the existence of a Welsh sci-fi and fantasy publisher. Who knew? Anyone who actually opens their Writers and Artists Yearbook, presumably, but still…

Am actively not going to bike this evening – still feeling full of sinus lurgi and have sneakily nipped to Starbucks to power on with some of the deadline stuff, so aim to get back just in time to pick d up from work. But overall, a better day than I thought it was going to be for much of its length.

Tomorrow promises to be just so much fun I already want to punch it in the face – lake-walking, followed by scolding by nurses at my diabetic review, and all before nine in the morning (inhuman much?). Then shedloads of work, interrupted by a cardiology appointment, which will in all likelihood involve precisely nothing of value, there being buggerall to report on until and unless my fibrillation is acting up.

Still, accentuating the positive, lost 4.25 lb of water this week, so am nearly a half-stone lighter than I was when I started (only need to do that another eleven times in a row now), and had some great interaction with a published, respected writer. There are many, many ways to have worse days than that. 

As I say, tomorrow’s likely to be a showcase for the reality of that.