Wednesday, 24 February 2010

Falling off the wagon

Once again, for probably about the fifth time in my adult life, I'm battling with my greedy demons to try to lose some weight.

I don't think I'm massively overweight (although those nasty BMI-believing folk would have me pegged at pretty darn obese) but I'm just about flabby enough to feel uncomfortable in my usual clothes, wobbly enough to be wearing my 'fat' wardrobe and lumpy enough to want to dress only in my loosest PJs and hide away from the world for a while.

So, for about four weeks I've been praying to the angels of weight loss and studying my bible of goodly eating in an effort to shed a few pounds.

The first week was marvellous. Three pound down - score! Week two was not so good, with a slight slippage from the diet train, resulting in a two pound gain. Not so good. Naughty!

Never one to be thrown from the voyage completely I reboarded the next week and lost a further three pounds - I so love it when I have a good week.

But then came holidays. Only two nights away over at my 'away' sis-in law's, but enough to skew my diet senses and send me spinning into a whirlpool of loveliness, non-diet food and wine aplenty!

And then, of course, there's the chocolate and wine-fest that occurred when my little monthly visitor reared its ugly head earlier this week... well, one has to allow oneself a little comfort every now and again... doesn't one?

What is one supposed to do when life (and wine) gets in the way? It is not always possible to be saint-like in one's pursuit of a looser waistband, is it?

I will never be put off the chase altogether and tomorrow I start swimming again - always a good way to shift the flab (even if one has to be seen in semi-public in a state of almost undress *shudders*).

Anyone got any good strategies?