True to my word, I’ve been pounding the pavements. The weather is nicer, spring is definitely in the air, and any excuse to avoid the tube and gently improve my fitness is a good one! I walked home from work on Tuesday and Wednesday, and bit the bullet and walked in this morning. The trip takes an hour and twenty minutes and is just under 5 miles (just over 7 km) … so I’ve walked a total of around 14 miles / 22 km so far this week. Not bad, eh? I’ve swapped my handbag for a rucksack (my shoulders didn’t like me after the first walk), my girly shoes for very unsexy trainers (with girly shoes in the rucksack, of course), loaded up my ipod with an audiobook or two (is that geeky?) and I’m happy as a pig in poo. Knowing my luck, mind you, I’ll probably just develop enormous leg muscles and end up gaining weight instead of losing it 🙂
I’m still comfortably chowing down on the lighter life food. It really has become second nature now. I was missing real food, as I said, towards the end of last week, but I think that was down to boredom and complacency. The good thing is that there are always incentives, however small, to keep me on track. It’s difficult to describe the feeling that I am actually going to be thin. It’s no longer an idle fantasy, it’s imminent … I can (almost) confirm that I will be a certain size and weight by a certain date. I’m still struggling to get my head around the reality of that. For the first time ever I don’t skim past the fashion pages in magazines (I’m becoming a bit of a Grazia fan these days) but, instead, muse excitedly about what might suit me and what I’d like to buy.
To that end I’m planning a second attack on the wardrobe tonight. I’ve already packed up four bin liners of clothes to go to the charity shop, and they’ll be departing on Saturday. I obviously had to hold on to quite a few clothes (nudity being generally frowned up on in London these days) with the aim of shrinking into them as time went by. I failed to take several things into account. Firstly, I only owned clothes that were in my old size or, perhaps, one size smaller. I’m already at least two sizes smaller, so that makes pretty much everything redundant. Also, fat clothes are badly made and badly cut (with the possible exception of a handful of nice things from Monsoon that I own). This means that only the smallest weight loss makes everything look like you’re wearing a sack. I have a few shirts that were a little on the snug side before the diet, but I put them on last night and they looked awful. If anything, they make me look bigger rather than smaller. I also have some long denim skirts that I was quite fond of … but with my new eyes I look at them and wonder why on earth I would want to swathe my new figure in acres of ill-fitting and frumpy denim. So it’s all going. Sod it. What’s the point in hanging on to them? I can survive on a limited wardrobe of interim clothes between now and the end of the diet … especially given that ‘normal’ clothes are a fraction of the price of fat ones. (Oh, that said, I know there’s a whole political minefield around the production of cheap clothing, but can I be forgiven for not getting in to that right now?)
I was also thinking, as I walked along the river this morning, how close I am to the initial 100 day marker. When I first said that to people, they were open-mouthed in disbelief at how far away it sounded. Now it’s less than six weeks away. People have met and married in less time than that. And, if I stick to the walking plan, maybe my final deadline will be nearer than I think. Now that definitely compensates for the unsexy trainers.