So I’m not going to win any prizes for slimmer of the week am I, but all things considered it could have been worse. One quarter pound on isn’t the biggest disaster in the world, right? I get it. More than that, I probably deserved it to be fair. I don’t think there’s been a week in the last twelve months where I missed my exercise goal every single day, but I did last week. In my defence, for at least four of those days I felt like crap, although it didn’t stop me from eating my weeklies from the cocoon I created under my poorly blanket. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I felt entitled.

It’s easier to accept a crap output when you understand the reasons why, don’t you think? I never seethe with resentment and fantasise about taking a hammer to the Shitbird Scale when I know I’ve had a bad week, because it sort of feels fair. When I accept responsibility for putting on a shit show, I have no axe to grind with a shit number. No, I reserve those fantasies for weeks where I’ve brought my A game and the Shitbird’s just being spiteful. Anyway, last week was shit, so let’s move on. I’m going for two pounds this week. Are you in?

I had a dabble with some fake tan last night, and you know what, it looks pretty good. I thought I’d better point it out in case you looked at the Shitbird’s page and thought I had dirty feet. I don’t look as dark as I did when I had the spray tan, but I definitely look like I’ve been toasted. It’s a product called Skinny Tan, I don’t know if you’ve seen it but they reckon it hides cellulite too. Which is awesome, but I can’t confirm or deny those rumours because I only rubbed it in to just above the knee. No point wasting it on no-man’s land, right? It doesn’t seem to have done much for the lumpy bits on my upper arms if I’m brutally honest, but then nothing coming out of a tube is going to fix that particular war zone.

The thing is, I feel nice with a bit of colour, and isn’t that all that matters? When I opened my eyes this morning I saw one of my new shirts hanging outside the wardrobe, with the necklace I’m going to accessorise it with strung over the hanger. I had my shoes picked out, and my pants…it’s so hard to explain to a skinny string bean that the privilege of feeling good in your clothes isn’t simply a given…I don’t think I’ll ever take that feeling for granted, you know? Eighty four pounds ago, I didn’t even notice which shapeless monstrosity I was pulling over my head on any given day, much less enjoy wearing it. Put me in front of a mirror these days and I preen like a fucking budgie.

That’s just one of the dozens of ways in which it’s nicer being me now, as opposed to then. I’m starting to feel like my life is fitting me better, and not just my clothes.  It’s what keeps me going forward. That, and you lot, who never fail to lift my mood when you reach out and tell me about your own journey, and struggles and triumphs.  I can’t even find the words to tell you how awesome it is when one of you takes the time to let me know that what happens in these pages helps you too.

Come on…let’s smash it this week 🙂

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