I have delayed writing my end of week 12 blog because, quite honestly, this last week has been crap.
It’s all too easy to write about the good days, the days that I spend prancing about in my Sweaty Betty leggings with a chocolatey protein shake in my hand, but the bad days (or weeks) take much more effort.
I was really excited about the end of week 12; I’d built it up into a really Big Thing in my head. Two days before my end of week 12 progress photos a massive dose of PMT turned up on my doorstep and gave me a kicking. I was headachy and miserable.
However, I wasn’t too concerned as the pre-period, edge-of-migrane headaches only last for 48 hours…usually.
At the end of week 10 and week 11 there had been no shift in my ‘weight’ which I was fine with as the camera told me that my body was still changing. I know all about the difference between losing body fat (a good thing) and losing “weight” (meaningless nonsense).
I”d been training hard and I had high hopes for at least a little shift in the scales at the end of week 12. This was due to no other reason other than decades of being conditioned to think of “weight loss” as the only meaningful measurement of progress.
Alas, it wasn’t to be and I ended week 12 at exactly the same “weight” as weeks 10 and 11.
The day after my end of week 12 progress photos was my late mother-in-law’s ash-scattering memorial. I think that its fair to say that I was preoccupied and stressed.
I wasn’t able to see the progress between the starting point and the end of week 12 – the goblins in my soul vowed to completely overlook the HUGE change. All they could focus on was the fact that the scales weren’t moving, which was utterly ridiculous.
On top of the PMT, goblins and imminent funeral, the weather turned heavy. Sleep was elusive and I felt tired and sluggish. The PMT that should have lasted 48 hours, dragged on, and on.
Both Luke and my wonderful, barmy friend (who has embarked on this adventure with me) said that change the photos were utterly fantastic. They kicked sand in the faces of the sneering goblins and cheered me up no end.
Despite how excited I’d been about the end of week 12, it slowly started to dawn on me that this was just the beginning; the hard yards still lay ahead.
I started this process with an arse like two badly parked VW Beetles and, after 12 weeks of trying really hard, it became clear to me that it was going to be a while before they would be towed away.
Footnote – Week 10/11 and Week 11/12 comparisons:
In all of the following photos I am the same “weight” – 10st 11lbs.
The thing I noticed about the difference between week 10 and 11 was that my arse was less lumpy! The scales may not have changed but the lurve handles were definitely less prominent.
The comparison of week 11 and week 12 shows (if you get the magnifying glass out) that I have lost a small amount back fat. This is a good thing, I want a toned back and any improvement in that department is a big win.
