So I gained on Monday night, 0.8 kilos – 1.8 lbs, that is. I thought I’d had a good week, I’d been the gym four bloody times! Plus walking the dog. And I was feeling good. And I got into those OLD JEANS, yknow? I was a little crushed.
Okay, more than a little. I sulked and brooded for days.
Now I am over that, and instead I am just panicking that I am not going to lose any more weight and somehow after 24 kilos lost my body is going to say, "Nah. Don’t wanna do no more" and I am going to be a size 24 BLOB forever.
So I’ve been extra good this week and exercising and we’ll just have to see what happens on Monday night.
Before that gain I was thinking to myself that I was looking really quite good and there was some tone starting to happen from all my gymming. I could feel these muscles (under the layer of lard) beginning to form in the front of my thighs. My stomach had eroded enough to reveal that yes, I DO have a navel and yes I DO have naughty bits! (They were concealed by my spare tyres before. A lot of the air’s been let out) I also thought my calves seem to be getting a bit of definition.
But now I am getting all panicky and paranoid and thinking that I *imagined* that there’s been changes and really I am actually getting fatter again.
OH BLOODY HELL! I wish it was just Monday so I could get the weigh-in over and done with! Scales are PUREST EVIL, I tells ya. EVIL!