Yeah, so, this happened:
This time, I’m going to avoid imparting any more information from the BHF grimoire. I have wrapped it in chains and hidden it from human sight.
Here I stand in the second month of dieting; am I a gleaming Adonis?
Actually, I haven’t made much progress in the last few weeks. There have been… slip ups.
Being left to my own devices for a couple of weekends, I gave in to my laziness and partook in not one but two takeaways, followed by a hearty calorific meal for Valentine’s Day. Frankly this is no surprise; my willpower is no endless reservoir but more like a puddle on a hot day.
Having said that, I still kept up my calorie counting. So I at least know how much I screwed up.
Gym? No. Walking? Not a lot. Yeah, it’s been one of those months.
I’m determined to get back on track, so as of today, I’m getting my routine back in line. One starts to wonder just how much of life is little more than habit and routine. The things we eat, the things we do, the times we wake and sleep and so on. Routine is effectively down to willpower, within a framework of… well, work. My hours are a floppy mess which helps not one jot, but I’m going to be taking a look at my daily comings and goings and trying to adopt a more uniform, disciplined approach. This may mean getting up before the sun reaches the yard arm, or whatever.
It ain’t all doom and/or gloom. Despite my slips, I haven’t put any weight back on; so all I’ve done is slow my progress. I just need to get back on track. It isn’t a race, after all, unless you count racing against the proverbial ticking clock of mortality.
Back to the fruit.
Weigh-in of shame:
Weight at week two: 15 stone, 2 pounds (212 pounds)
A loss of 12 pounds from the start of January! Not so bad, right?