Monday, January 07, 2013
Eating the Elephant
I stopped making New Year resolutions a long time ago. About the time when I realised that they didn't last beyond Twelfth Night.
This year, though - just after New Year, when I'd scarfed down the last of the chocs, I knew there was one thing I had to do. Lose some weight. Really. My knees were begging me.
There should be a warning written on every publishing contract. Sign this and, unless you are an exercise bunny with a will of iron when it comes to biscuits, this contract will add 20lb to your weight before you know what happened.
In the new house I have to walk up two flights of stairs to the office and about half way up the second flight last week, my knees said "enough". Loudly. Actually, just lately they've been complaining when I put my feet to the floor in the morning and pain is the one thing that will make me pass on cake.
Since I have absolutely no faith that the scales will have survived the move with any degree of accuracy, I decided not to worry about poundage. I'd let my chatty knees do the counting. They'll keep me in line. The jacket that won't quite button around the middle and the black velvet trousers I've never worn will tell me when I'm making progress.
I've lost maybe two pounds (the first few days it always falls off) but the difference is already noticeable to me if no one else.
Exercise is the next step. I keep threatening to dig out the swimsuit and get to the pool. It's attached to the high school so they get first dibs on times and I have to figure out when I can fit it in.
I've made a start. That's the main thing. It feels a bit daunting at the moment, but losing weight is like writing a book. You know how it goes. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
Happy New Year!