That’s how long it took, to go from hero to zero. I’m always honest with you guys, right? Best buckle in then, let’s get it over with.
I woke up in a dark place on Wednesday, I mean I’d really seen my arse. From the moment I opened my eyes I was seething with resentment that I had to be on this stupid fucking diet in the first place, and I knew I was going to have a bad day. If I look back on the sequence of events I can sort of see it unravelling.
I had a rubbish night’s sleep on Tuesday night, which I think is where it all started to go tits up. I’d had to pull out of my fat furnace class at the Kingdom of Pain due to my knee, which since our cycling adventures on Sunday has been giving me hell. I’d settled down later in the evening to draft a blog post, but no words had come.
It happens every now and then, you know? I wrote and rewrote the same few moany paragraphs until I was boring myself sick, and I ended up turning in after midnight with a pile of shite on the page and a plan to look at it with fresh eyes in the morning. Which I did, and it was still shite. It took a while for me to get it to a point where I was ready to send it out to your ears and that meant I was late getting into the office.
My to do list was overwhelming, and from late morning I was tied up in a meeting that was due to go on for the rest of the day. For all the reasons I’ve talked about I’d not had time to prepare any food to take to work, so when the catered lunch arrived at 11.59am, my defences were shot.
And I fell.
Mini yorkshire puddings with rare beef and horseradish…oh yes I’ll have one of those. Then another two. Three BLT sandwich triangles and a handful of crisps. Back for another mini yorkshire, and a king prawn and cream cheese blini. MMMmmm that was nice, best have a couple more of them. There’s cake? Awesome. The rocky road looks good…three of those then and a square of ginger cake whilst I’m there. They’re only little after all.
We’re done? I’ll just carry the six remaining squares of cake across the hall for the girls in the office…girls, (chewing) there are five pieces of cake here if anyone wants them...
Just in case anyone on the planet was still under any illusion that I was watching what I ate, I also managed to sink six treacle toffees before we wound the meeting up. One hundred and fifty one minutes to eat my own bodyweight in crap, and I did it beautifully. It was carnage.
So from there, contrite and lesson learned, I headed home to sit on the naughty step and think about what I’d done, right?
Did I fuck. I drove three miles out of my way because I wanted pizza, and whilst I was picking that up I bought a box of Magnum ice cream lollies for my boy. Except I ate three out of the box of four before he got home, and I didn’t tell him about the fourth. FYI I ate that yesterday. Which wasn’t as bad as Wednesday but I won’t be winning any prizes for clean eating, that’s for sure.
How is it, that the ground beneath my feet can be so fucking solid one day – actually for more than one hundred days – and then I’m jettisoned headlong into dieting quicksand for no apparent reason? I think messing around with my food plan has had a catastrophic effect on my psyche. Lesson learned, eh.
This morning, I just feel a bit dazed. And I’ve got two choices haven’t I? I can choose a skinny life, where I pick myself up and reset. Or I can choose to carry on behaving like a fucking ejit.
I choose skinny. I’m starting again with my clean eating as of today, right now in this moment. I’m not waiting until Sunday. From today, and one day at a time.
Walk with me? I need you guys 🙂
