I went to bed last night with the unpleasant, yet familiar, sinking feeling in my stomach that yet again I have failed to lose a stone in a week.
Obviously I’m exaggerating slightly but I am a very impatient person who’s also cursed with great enthusiasm at the offset which then declines quite quickly.
Perhaps I’m simply lacking in willpower and self discipline as some people have suggested, perhaps I simply don’t care enough to make the effort, perhaps I can blame the spare tire on my medically-proven sluggish metabolism, or perhaps there is another reason entirely.
Reason aside, almost every month I embark on a new plan of self-improvement with the main aim inevitably to shift at least a stone (except in my head I have visions of model-esque loveliness…). And every month, I find myself back at the same point. It’s all very depressing.
I’m a great lover of a fad, and will happily buy into whatever diet or fitness craze is currently doing the rounds. I’ve done the Dukan and Slimming World; I’ve followed James Duigan and Gwyneth Paltrow; I’ve fasted and Paul McKenna-ed; I’ve exercised to Tracey Anderson and even had a couple of personal trainers along the way, but the fact remains that at some point, some thing will knock me off course and I’ll go plummeting in the opposite direction.
I’ve very much an ‘all or nothing’ person so when I fall off the wagon, I do so into a sugary mattress of tubs of ice cream, family sized bars of chocolate, jars of Nutella, bags of Haribo and so on.
When I’m on the wagon, whichever one it may be, I am ‘living the dream’ and the perfect disciple, until, of course, suddenly I’m not.
There’ve been many reasons why I’ve lost my way. Sometimes it’s been a birthday or celebration when I’ve gorged myself and found it difficult to go back; other times it starts as a ‘treat’ which escalates; or it’s a deliberate FU to the current regime when I’m having a bad day; or an excuse because I’ve been productive and successful in other areas of my life.
Fairly recently I told Mr T that I find it almost impossible to be successful in more than one area of my life at the same time. He gave me a dubious look as I explained writing well meant I ‘rewarded or motivated’ myself with chocolate, while doing daily exercise meant I felt justified in reading and relaxing when I should be writing. His dubious look remained, but then, he has one of the most impressive (wait for it…) work ethics of anyone I know. I always feel lazy next to him.
Now let’s take me out of this entire situation for a moment. Losing weight sounds like it should be simple. Eat less + exercise more = weight loss. But it’s never that easy. For a start, one week people are demonising fat, the next it’s sugar. Some tell you to cut out carbs, others to eat for your blood type. It really is a minefield out there, and most people are gullible little sausages, happy to gobble up whatever new ‘nutritional’ advice is doing the rounds. And then you hear the depressing news that most ‘successful’ dieters weigh more three years after their weight loss than they did before they started! I ask you, where’s the incentive in that?!
I’m not asking for sympathy from this post. Let’s face it, that’s the last thing I need! But I’ve often found that writing down my actions helps me to understand them. Mostly though, after this, I’m feeling more confused and petulant than ever!
I’m about to book flights to go visit the fabulous Miss S in distant lands. I have five months to transform myself into a goddess. That’s do-able, right?…