Did a woman ever get as excited by a yoghurt as I did this afternoon? Possibly not. In fact, hopefully not. But low fat yoghurt is on the menu this week and I almost danced a jig in Tesco when I approached the Muller Lights. Oh happy days!
I’m settling into the management regime now. It’s psychologically a bit odd to be on a diet where you add foods over time, rather than cut them out, but it seems to be going OK. God alone knows what the scales will say on Thursday evening … I’m prepared to have gained (eek!) because of the calorie increase, the glycogen storage and the extra exercise, but it will still be a bit galling to see the scales go in the wrong direction. As I plough up and down the pool (four swims since starting managment and counting) I keep reminding myself that I’m not on a diet any more, I’m in the process of managing my life. And that life will include ups and downs in my weight. For now I have to think tone, tone, tone … as a fleeting glance at my jelly belly constantly reminds me!
I was quite well behaved on Monday night, at a client party of epic proportions. The setting was perfect (a beautiful roof terrace in the middle of Soho), the music was loud and the booze was flowing. I counted myself slowly through five glasses of champagne (yes, I know that was five too many) and navigated the canapes. So by the time I yawned my way to bed at a very respectable 1am I felt that I’d not done too badly. I did make a deal with myself to swim it all off on Tuesday morning, but the inevitable hangover put paid to that and I went on Tuesday evening instead. Debit and credit, that’s what it’s all about.
I’m down to two packs a day, rather than the requisite three at this stage, after a discussion with my counsellor. The packs are delightfully filling when you’re in abstinence, but I found that adding a proper meal into the equation made the third pack impossible. So no more soups for me … oh boy, am I pleased to see the back of them. I’d far rather reach for a handful of sugar snap peas or a slice of chicken if I get peckish and, again, that is good training for dealing with snack attacks in the future. I can’t always reach for that handy little lighter life bar, can I?
So tonight means another swim, and tomorrow the scary weigh-in. Keep it all crossed for me!