I'm going to start on Monday.
How many times in life have I said that at the end of a food (not to mention wine) filled weekend?
But this time I mean it. I'm going back on the 5/2 diet. Starting Monday.
Three weeks ago, a friend who is shifting her baby weight with impressive results told me all about it. As the conversation coincided with the weather taking a turn for the worse and me trying yet failing to squeeze into any of last year's winter trousers, I was very interested. My resolve hardened when I received a lovely package from one of my favourite online shops and I couldn't do up my fab new skinny cords even though I'd ordered them in my 'fat' size. Oh and I tried on a supposedly universally flattering wrap dress and my husband said, "It's nice but you might need your magic pants."
Great.
So I'd been reluctantly resigning myself to gritting my teeth and getting back on WeightWatchers but I've got to say, the prospect was about as attractive as sticking pins in my eyes.
I'm a greedy git - I love cooking and it's not too much of an exaggeration to say I'm obsessed with food. I've got a sweet tooth, a savoury tooth and a spicy tooth. Oh and I love wine. Love it.
My friend told me not to bother starting the 5/2 at that point as it was one week before I went on holiday (she had made the same mistake by starting a couple of weeks before a trip and all the weight just came piling back on quicker than you can say chocolate chip cookie.)
But I knew better. I would fast Monday and Wednesday on week one and in week two I would do a Sunday and Friday (the day we travelled home). Yeah right. I lost three pounds in the first week but in an inexplicably counterintuitive act of self-sabotage I ate a Starbucks chocolate muffin for breakfast and chicken fajitas dripping in sour cream and cheese for lunch on the Friday which was meant to be the second fast day. Gross. Not even very nice food but in my defence, I was still within the confines of a well-known family holiday resort which specialises in expensive but not necessarily nutritious food. I think I realised I wasn't going to be able to stick to it there so I just went hell for leather for the lardiest options available. Then I kicked myself and regretted the total waste of time that I had now rendered the first three fasts.
So I told myself I would be better off just generally cutting down on the rubbish and working out more. And I spent the whole of this week eating the kids' Halloween chocolate.
So 5/2 it is. Starting Monday. Six weeks and no excuses. This blog will be a diary to document it and hopefully motivate me.
And actually, the first two fasts were fine. Not exactly the best days I've ever had but totally manageable. The third was horrible but I think that was because it was a Sunday and I was so starving when I went out during the day, I ended up inhaling a diet sandwich that used up way too much of my daily allowance. That night I ended up sprawled on the sofa, in front of Downton Abbey, clutching my stomach and trying to ignore the alarming growling noises it was making.
So like a good girl scout my motto has to be 'be prepared.'
Right. So here goes. Onwards and upwards! (or downwards in terms of the scales)
