So I reached Thursday this week without having visited the Kingdom of Pain since the weekend. It wasn’t by choice, I promise, I’ve just had a crazy work schedule this week. I don’t go on Mondays because God of Pain has a stand-in (even Guru’s have to take a day off, right?) and it’s not the same. Tuesday I had early meetings followed at the end of the day by dinner with our new boss, and Wednesday was a proper killer. I had a 3.45am alarm call to get a 5am train and it was almost 7pm when I got back home, so fitting in a class just wasn’t humanly possible until yesterday.
And somehow that made yesterday feel really hard. I did not want to go do that early workout, for the first time in ages. I laid in bed when my alarm went off, running through pretty much the whole of the Asshole’s repertoire you know? Stay in bed, you had such a long day yesterday, you’re too old for this shit…today you should scrape by with the bare minimum, conserve your energy and take a load off…you need a rest. You might hurt yourself if you’re tired…blah blah blah.
I went, of course I went but the going sort of teetered on a knife-edge for a moment. The only thing less appealing than dragging my sorry ass out of bed was cancelling the session and getting nailed by the full force of his disapproval. And I felt so guilty at the way I’d tried to talk myself out of going that I went from one extreme to the other and shot my mouth off, totally putting the kibosh on all things naughty whilst I’m away on holiday in the next couple of weeks.
I think the blood must have rushed to my head or something as I jogged on the spot in-between torture stations, because I only went and made a point of telling him that I was going away, and requested, yes requested that he personally weigh me next Friday before I leave, and again a week on Sunday when we get back to make sure I haven’t put any weight on over the course of my cruise.
I mean WTF?? I earned an approving nod of his head as he agreed to it. Well of course he fucking agreed to it, he’s the actual diet police. I can’t think of a more effective way to make absolutely sure I stick to my food plan.
What usually happens when I’m presented with something I shouldn’t eat but really want, is that you’ll hear me say no…no really I’m sure…yes very sure thanks…oh fuck it go on then. I guess I’ve shut the door on that one, right? And you know what it’s like on a cruise, there are chefs hiding around every corner waiting to force-feed you cake. Step on like a girl, step off like a foie gras.
There’s two big reasons why I need to hit this with a straight bat – firstly if I don’t, and I have a week long chew-fest, no way will I be able to get back in the game when I get home. Secondly it’s taken me the last two months to lose ten pounds, and I could put all that back on in the course of a week, and then some…I’ve done it many times and it’s just not worth it.
Plus which, I’ve got to admit as I dress for my skinny dinners in one of my new little size 18 numbers, not feeling like Shamu in a frock is going to really help in the willpower department, you know? And imagine, clothes that fit me as we set sail still fitting me as we arrive back into port…I don’t think that’s ever happened before 🙂
Anyway, I’m just home from doing the ‘muffin tops and bingo wings class’, which is it’s own little world of pain. Tonight I’m boxing, and tomorrow a bunch of us from the Kingdom of Pain are going to conquer Pen Y Ghent, which is a 6 mile walk up one of Yorkshire’s peaks. At almost 700m it’s not far short of the mountain in Cuba that I’ll be looking at in a few weeks’ time. Then Sunday I’m back for the circuit training and boxing combo to kick off my last pre-holiday week.
Have an awesome weekend chaps 🙂
Before you go, we have a new contributor on the Guest Spot – Thoughts From The Posse Page if you’d like to check it out…Deb is an accidental guest writer, since I pulled the words from a note she sent me rather than her setting out to write a post but I could relate to every word, and I’m sure she’d benefit from a little encouragement from the posse. Knowing other people had walked a mile in my shoes when I started my journey helped me no end…you’re a bunch of wise old owls 🙂
