Friday, 15 April 2011

New Regime..... Reclaim the Goddess, or is that Gothess?

Mr Roving Blade and I have made a pact. We both want to lose weight and get all sexy again. He made me weigh myself - in front of him!!! How's THAT for trust in one's marriage? Horrified to discover I am the heaviest I've EVER EVER been. A stone and a half heavier than a couple of years ago - the last time I weighed myself. Knew I'd been wearing black alot. It's a tedious cliche but I desperately want to get back into my favourite jeans which I tried on again 2 days ago. Not even past my hips. You'd never know they were mine. Apart from the knee holes and biro. It's TIME.....

One might think that a stone and a half ain't that much but I am a midget. A stone and a half is SUCH MUCH. I want to go along to the next set of streetdance classes and not cry at my reflection. I want my thighs to start living independent lives and not melt into each other. And I want to trot after an escaping football without turning purple.

I refuse to list what I eat (or what I've not eaten) or catalogue my miserable scales visits. I will not count calories or moan when I see thin people eat ice-cream. I am going to be very grown-up about this and not bore everyone around me. Apart from this post obviously. I just want to believe I'm already gorgeous and sexy and hope reality catches up with me.

But - some action is called for unfortunately. I used to do about an hour of stretching every day - up to a couple of years ago, when we rearranged the living room. A bit like the impossible task of trying to go to sleep diagonally on someone's floor in the old days, suddenly doing my stretches on a different part of the carpet and facing the other way was all it took to for all excercise to cease immediately. And I stopped breast-feeding. And Mr RB and I started getting along better than we had, meaning my stomach-knots relaxed somewhat. Followed by my stomach folds. And Xmas hit.... and seemingly never stopped. All in all - I am now a blimp. Half an hour on the pedalo yesterday with the boys just woke up muscles long since retired. Need to get them back to work - or I may as well give up to blobdom forever. Black blobdom.

So - after the weigh-in we did a couple of stretches, dodgeing the mobile phone cameras held aloft by Minx and her sleepover chum who'd just come-to on the settees - bloody cheek. Then we squidged into the trainers, set the timer for 10 mins and set off on our cross country run, round the garden. Quick thinking changed the plan to 10 laps instead of 10 mins. My arse is wobblier than blancmange on a trampoline. Kept remembering that line from an ex-flatmate's Callanetics video: 'You too can have a perfect peach!' Couple of trifles maybe. After 3 torturous laps round the garden we decided that 5 would be plenty. Slipped in a quick golf swing lesson for me. Another lost ball. Still, felt all rejuvenated and did a couple more laps. Twisted my ankle down a rabbit hole but felt all smug. Even threw a couple more stretchy shapes. 10 mins pinged. Time for breakfast. Bugger - still have to eat and all we have is crap. Porridge - I am just SO glowing and 10lbs lighter already so I am. May even reward myself with a day off tomorrow. Only joking. Think peach.

All hail the sex goddess that shall be ME ME MEEEEE.....

Hmmmmmmnnnnn....... Later I came back from a Mad Science, park, football boots shopping, girls drop off, diesel run and general runaround (make that a general drive-around) and ........... reached straight for the vitamins and headache pills. No sign of renewed energy yet. Mr RB's gone for fish & chips and I need a good lie down.

Think I'll just dye all my clothes black.


  1. Oh god! I am a blob too! My wardrobe is all black...except for those clothes that make me look like a 50-year-old social worker who shops in M&S. My middle age spread is planning to take over the world. And I have to wear blinkers when going past anything reflective, particularly shop windows.

    Is there hope?

  2. Maybe we should just invest in a couple of bhurkas and avoid France. Crap food there anyway.

  3. Oh god - you weighed yourself in front of your husband? That is the definition of marital trust. I love that you can do that. We are both getting blimpy too - went to a party last week and got out of puff dancing to The Clash and my husband nearly tore his achilles tendon trying to pogo on someone's shoulders, thinking he was back in the old mosh pit. Sad times indeed.

    I like your resolution and I should do the same. Just looked in my wardrobe - lots of black. I'm like the advert for Scottish Widows. Actually - a bug black swirling cape might hide it. I bought that Tracy Anderson video - oh my god. Cannot do one step of it.

  4. Hilarious start! Blamange on a trampoline, i will forever be thinking of that whenever I see a trampoline now. I have resolved now to wearing very covering up floaty pieces and just accept the torments of time, party fouls (a great American expression I just heard) and the pull of gravity, now I'm nearing 50!

  5. Ooh we're a right lot aren't we?

    Can I just say tho' - just to have this down in print - I have now completed SIX DAYS without chocolate! Oh yes. Or biscuits. Or cakes. S I X D A Y S I tell you!!!!

  6. Actually a big swirly black cape could be a good place to hide ALL sorts of things....... Hmmmmmmmm...........

    I have also completed a good couple of years without alcohol - mainly due to Party Fouls. Or were they just foul parties? Thankfully I can't recall.... Come to think of it I don't think I've managed more than a few sips of anything much since baby things appeared - I'm rubbish aren't I? Perfectly capable of dribbling into my own neck and talking gibberish without it.

    Fuck! - swearing really IS my only remaining vice.