This week has been a turning point. All of a sudden I feel smaller, stronger and more compact.
Also, my friends and colleagues are starting to notice.
Until now, only a couple of my very closest friends (who have been in on this escapade from day one) have said anything about my changing shape.
However, I received an email from a male colleague, following a zoom call, this week which started with “Please don’t take this the wrong way but have you lost weight?” I could have given him a virtual hug!
My response was effusive and grateful.
I have mentioned a couple of times, in various posts, that a friend of mine, Flo, started training with Luke about 8 weeks after I did.
A major topic of conversation between me and Flo is whether anyone has noticed our changing shape. Now bearing in mind that I’m nearly at the end of 6 months, remarkably few people have said anything. Until now.
My mum, obviously, tells me every time she sees me that I look amazing, tiny and exactly like I did when I was a teenager. In addition, Luke, Flo and a couple of my other favourite friends always tell me how well I’m doing, but beyond that…nothing.
Flo and I have come to the conclusion that people are reluctant to comment on someone else’s weight loss. We suppose that the reasons for this are complex: some don’t want to cause offence; some are jealous; some notice and don’t say anything and others just don’t notice.
One of the loveliest things that was said to me this week was by Lovely Girl #1. I’d just finished a workout and was in the kitchen getting a drink when she looked up and said “You are looking really slim mum, I’m so proud of you”.
Heaven knows no joy like a mother who has been complimented by her daughter.
Day 155:
Today I got my haircut. My mum, Lovely Girls and I make a day out of it when we all get a haircut. We do a spot of shopping and have lunch.
I’d made a decision that after 4 years of growing my hair it was time for a change. I’d got into a rut during lockdown of simply scraping my hair back into a pony tail. It was easy but not particularly attractive.
It was time for a change – I didn’t want to look like I’d given up, we middle-aged women are invisible enough as it is.
A jaw length bob was the order of the day and as I felt the first cut at the back of my neck I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of having made a mistake.
I swallowed down the rising panic. My hairdresser has been cutting my hair since 1999 and I trust him. He worked his magic and I loved the finished result.
Day 156:
Ok this rising weight is starting to get on my nerves now. 10 stone 5. Seriously WTF??!!
Looking at yesterday’s diary I could have had too much salt. Lovely Girl #2 and I have a habit of eating parma ham in the car. This might have to stop.
I had a really bad ocular migraine so I decided not to work out.
Day 157:
Today has been a rollercoaster of a day. When my alarm went off at 05:50 I rolled out of bed and pulled on the kit that I laid out last night. But not before I’d weighed myself.
Over the last few days the scales have been going the wrong way. I was pissed off yesterday with 10:5 but the air was positively blue this morning when the scales told me that I was now 10:6.
I didn’t have much time to dwell on it. It’s definitely water retention from too much salt.
I trained hard, felt great and made damn sure that I drank a LOT of water.
Day 158:
I wore my smallest suit to work today and it was huge on me.
This is actually quite a sad state of affairs. My best Jigsaw suit is my favourite one.
Nevertheless this sadness was totally irrelevant because I, mother to two teenage girls, had been invited out for drinks by my daughter.
Lovely Girl #2 and her wonderful friends invited me out for cocktails. This type of invitation is the holy grail of motherhood. It is so much more than an invitation. It says to the world that you are cool enough to be seen with. It confirms that you are Not An Embarrassment.
And with that invitation, my middle aged clock of invisibility was removed; I felt worthy.
We had a lovely time. For the first 10 minutes I REALLY wanted a cocktail.
I knew that if I succumbed to a cocktail then the sugar and alcohol would mess me up so much that I’d probably have to go home.
The alcohol free beer that I opted for gave me tummy ache. It also made me hoarse and itchy because I forgot that it contained wheat. I then switched to peppermint tea, as did one of my daughter’s friends.
I love the company of young people. There is so much we can learn from them.
Day 159:
As I opened my eyes I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t really drink last night. I felt rough and headachy after the alcohol free beer and surprisingly like I had a proper hangover.
Also, I was still really really sore from training on Monday. Walking into town at lunchtime holding an umbrella left my forearms screaming.
I was hungry all day; although I did 45 mins of steady cardio and made sure that I drank enough water.
The baked potato with butter was the highlight of my day. I bloody love potatoes. (Dairy products give me a runny nose, but sometimes it’s worth it).
Day 160:
The weight had finally started moving in the right direction but I was still sore when I woke up this morning.
Today’s training was hard. I failed to finish the programme at Luke’s so I did the rest in the evening.
Day 161:
My arms, shoulders and back were on strike today. It was a struggle to get into my kit for the progress photos.
I was so hungry at lunchtime that in addition to the veg and hummus that I brought with me, I went out and bought some cooked chicken breasts. I only ate one.
End of Week 23 – Progress Photos
Side Quest Progress Photos (end of week 9):
My mission to fit comfortably into small Sweaty Betty leggings has almost been achieved. This week I wore these leggings for training for the first time and I noticed that my Medium Sweaty Betty leggings are starting to get a bit baggy around the knees.
Side Quest 3 – my daughter’s jeans (week 1) …
It’s all very well taking photos wearing the same kit each week but with my small Sweaty Betty leggings almost fitting, I need smaller clothes to measure progress.
I have always wanted to be able to wear my 18 year old daughter’s jeans. So, this is my new side quest: photos in my daughter’s (size 27) jeans until they fit. They are waaaaayyyyyy too tight at the moment but it gives me something tangible to work towards.
These photos are comparisons of last week and this week. There isn’t much difference but with a magnifying glass my arse is marginally less lumpy!
