Oh yes, here it comes. It’s the dreaded C word – and with it all that that means (including lousy English, apparently!!?): expenses, expenses, expenses, food, flatulence, loss of will power, loss of motivation, loss of fitness diaries, etc. etc. etc. And I honestly think it all starts with food. The battle begins now and will continue over the next 11 weeks. Can I fit back into that LBD or will the expense start with buying a new one – a size or two larger? Will I lose the weight I want to lose over the next 9 weeks and then, just when I think I’m looking pretty damn good, pile it all back on the week before? Because that’s a real favourite of mine – crashing at the final hurdle. I work and work and work and then as soon as my goal is in sight my brain switches off and I blow it. That comes from my mother, by the way – that ‘you’re never going to make it’ syndrome, that I battle constantly.
Well, you know what? I’ve just decided that I AM going to bloody make it this time. In fact, I’ve done pretty well this year with ‘finishing’. I might not have finished everything exactly where I wanted to, but I finished a number of things and I plan to (excuse repetition) ‘finish’ this year off on a good note, too. I WILL see a 9 on the scales (preferably in the ‘stones’ area, not the pounds). It can be accompanied by a 13, but it WILL be a 9.
And how’s this going to come about? Well, I’ve tried a number of magic wands, but I’ll tell you a secret: don’t believe what it says on the box. Magic wands don’t bloody work! What will work is just a little consistency and a whole lot of attitude! If I put my mind to it I know I can do the consistency bit (even if that means that every Saturday is a chocolate day??? – just so long as it’s consistent, right?). Yep. And I picked up a truckload of attitude down at the gym this morning. I found it under the foam roller – a roller that was groaning about as loudly as my knees were. Oh, oh, why were they groaning, I hear you ask? Well, that’d be because I’ve been eating crap for the last month, my knees are f***** and all because I couldn’t keep my face out of the damn fridge. Simples!
But that’s finished now. I’ve got 11 weeks and that’s more than enough time to get back to where I want to be. I’m armed with attitude and ready to go. And I can already hear my knees whispering ‘Thank you’ – not to mention my heart, my lungs and my stomach!
It’s time. ‘Christmas? Here I come!’ I say. I’ll be ready for you.