I've had enough of the half-hearted brazzle that I've been coming out with over the last few months. No wonder my weight loss has stalled (I've refused to call it a plateau because in my definition of the word, that's something that's happened even though you've stayed on plan
). Being slipshod about stuff isn't going to do it for me.
Food: I'm back to logging everything
in Fitday. Kaki fruit have nearly 120 calories! Who knew?
Well you know what, I would have known had I looked it up when I FIRST went on a bender with the things!
Back to counting the calories. Back to portion control (like, no second helpings, ya lazy tub o' lardy Salsa!). Treats once a blinking week
, not every single day. Sheesh.
And no, I'm not telling my personal trainer. He's of the 'just write it down [and I haven't even been doing that] but don't weigh/measure anything' school of thought. Well, what does he know, he's one of those people who need to gain weight!
Daily weighing and tracking, both in Fitday and in my neato Excel file.
Exercise: I'm doing lots each week but I'm going to start running again. Mainly because I want to and I'm a wimp if I don't.
But it's mainly the food. Sheesh.
No more gaffing around. I'm going to kick start this (again) so hard that my innards aren't going to know what's hit them. Bring it on, you moronic fat cells who labour under the illusion that I'm going to starve any time soon. I'm ready for you. I
mistress, not the other way around, and I
will specify (with the help of various physical laws) how much I'm going to weigh. Not you. Yes, you, the saddlebag on my right thigh, I'm looking at you
This message was brought to you by the exasperation of a self-realisation on a Tuesday morning.