The festive period has not been kind. I have put on, oh, about a stone or so from my lowest weight. Sigh. The good thing is I know what I have to do, I know I can do it, I know how to do it. I just need to do it.
With that in mind I went out for a short and horribly rubbish run on Sunday. Had to walk a fair bit in the last half and can't say I enjoyed much of it. I was, however, expecting that so didn't immediately dissolve in a puddle of lardy self-pity*. Just gritted my teeth (and challenged the lovely Cofffeedog to a "get your backside out there!" race.)
Today, I had to drive out to a town a few miles from Edinburgh to do battle with the Sheriff Clerk (the clerk of court wumman who deals with the paperwork) and on my way back I noticed that (a) it was nearly lunchtime and (b) I was virtually passing my gym. So I diverted in there and ran 30 minutes on the treadmill. Ve-e-ery slo-o-o-o-wly (mostly at 7.5kph) but steadily. I lost patience, as usual: by about 8 minutes in, I had to grit my teeth to get to 15 minutes, then promised myself I could stop if I wanted to once I got to 20 minutes, then I counted the minutes from 20 to 25 in 30 second increments, counting backwards from 10, and then once I got to 25 minutes I called myself a wuss for thinking of stopping with only 5 minutes to do. So I did the whole 30 minutes and then 5 minutes cool down. See the psychological intrigues I have to create to stop myself getting fed up and marching back to the showers? Creative genius, I tell you.
I only covered about 4km because of the slow speed but I am ignoring distance in favour of time on my feet for the present. I now have that pleasantly wobbly feeling in the muscles in my legs and a smug expression on my face.
And I weighed myself this morning (and before anyone else points it out, I know that weight fluctuates from day to day and you really should only weigh yourself once a week but I am a scales junkie and like to weigh myself ALL THE TIME. I just watch the overall trend but like checking in regularly.) Anyway as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, the scales said I had lost 2 pounds. Which probably isn't a real loss but made me feel good. So there.
* I'm sure this is a trademark Shauna Reid expression - I have just finished reading her book and it is just wonderful. My husband kept looking at me oddly for sniggering in bed whilst reading it. At least, I think it was for sniggering.