Oh hello Slimming World. My old friend. My spray on, low fat, fruit in the morning instead of biscuits, FWEND. To be fair our relationship rekindling had been coming a while. There was the weight gain. The muffin top. The scales that went up and the wardrobe choices that went down. No more jeans, only leggings. The bigger bras. The denial that turned into cold hard squidgy realisation that all that baby weight I’d lost last year was back on. The baby’s coming up to two. I can’t blame her anymore.
So, with a bit of a shuffle and a new class that was more convenient for work, I was back. Reluctantly, if I’m honest. I like stuffing my face. I like eating biscuits for breakfast, dinner and tea and you know what, I bloody love drinking wine. Restricting any of those activities spells NO CRAIC NICCI so it was a bit of a force on my part.
I didn’t think about it till I was sitting there, new Slimming World pack in hand, listening to the newcomers welcome. Speed. (That’s fruit or veg to you or me). Free foods. Syns. They put the ‘y’ in there to make it all contemporary but a syn is a sin. Syns spell STOP! YOU! NOW! anytime you go near the biscuit press.
Guess what. I enjoyed the first week. And it was easy. I knew the plan from the last time. It wasn’t hard to swap out some of the muck I’d been eating. I got back to cooking, a few more greens and veg, breakfast, cut back on the wine, (but not fully, I’m not be-bop-a-loolah crazy you know) and within three days of being on the plan I woke up and felt… fantastic. Like the sun was shining out my eyes. Like my skin was alive with glow. Like I was living again!
I don’t know how it worked so fast. You’d think with all the toxins it would take at least a few weeks to clear out the lymph. But it probably comes down to nutrition. And water. Instead of living on empty carbs and fats and anything edible that came out of a box or from the man in the van from our local takeaway, suddenly my body was flooded with green shit. And I don’t mean fat frogs. Mmmmm…
Anyhoo, week one I said goodbye to three and a half pounds of wine and crisps ‘baby’ weight. The following week I went on a bit of mad one. (A night out, pre-arranged, couldn’t help it). Gained a pound. Didn’t mind – was worth it. Following week, lost it again. Week after that;, lost another pound. See the pattern here? Eventually if I keep going at this rate – I will get there!
I’m all about having a life. I don’t want to be watching everything I sniff and knock back down my gob. (Sambuca). I want to know that it’s ok to have a biccy with my tea or a few chips if I want.
But, I also want to look good. I want to feel good. I want to know that I’m looking after myself and my own long term health for my family. It’s not just about the wobble of my thighs and the which top hides my muffin top anymore. (Although it is).
It’s about taking back control. For a while there I felt like I couldn’t stop myself. That I was sabotaging myself. That I was in a weird way, going out of my way to eat lots of crap. It makes no sense, and I’m a clever, logical person, but you know what, us and food, people and eating – there’s a lot more going on than simple hunger and thirst. There’s emotions. And comfort. And choosing to eat all the wrong foods just because you can.
So, the plan for the moment is to commit till late June when I need to get my Glastonbury legs out and to try and stick to what they lay out before me as much as possible, but still have a life and not be too hard on myself. There will be nights out, there will be choc ices when the sun comes out, but you know what I hope to have at the end of it?
A slimmer, happier me.
And who doesn’t want that?
(Well maybe underweight people of course, what they really want is boobs!)
You can read about my previous ‘journey’ to Slimming World here. Love a good journey me.