It’s taken a while but I feel I’ve processed the conversations with Father in Wales. I’ve reached a conclusion and re-set my expectations. I still have no regrets about what was said and I am pleased it happened when it did. Earlier and I think the trip could have set me back, later and I’d would have been waiting, unable to move on. It doesn’t make it easy, although I have no regrets, comprehending Father is a twat takes time.
So, what next? Well, if return to work conversations are going to start next month, I’ve got a month to throw all my energy into me. I’m going to be selfish, I’m going to do the things that scare me but I need. A lot of work has gone into my head, now a lot of work needs to go into my body. Funnily enough, eating whole boxes of cereal in one go, with a whole packet of biscuits as a side and a whole packet of yum yums as dessert leads to significant weight gain. Gaining weight is fun, it’s yummy food so even though it was eating in an emotional state, it still tastes good. Losing weight is not fun. Not at all. It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s tiring and for me, it’s highly embarrassing. I had a light bulb moment about my debt a few months ago. It was the realization that I needed to face up to it and start managing it properly. Well, the discovery of some stretch marks, in a place I didn’t even know it was possible to get stretch marks, has been the light bulb moment to get my food and exercise back on track.
It started with a lot of walking on Wednesday. Thursday didn’t go so well as I stayed in pjs and on the sofa all day but stuck to my meal plan. Friday went better. I had a psychologist appointment and walked a satisfying 13,000 steps. To stay on track with food, I even ate a packed lunch whilst meeting a friend. Saturday saw my return to the gym. I’ve been paying this membership and not going. Granted I was ill etc. but now it’s time to get my money’s worth. Let’s start with Pilates. That’s gentle, right? WRONG! Turns out it’s not gentle. I tell the instructor about my ankle and she’s very accommodating of the brace and giving me alternatives but jeeze, Pilates is sweaty business. To my left I have Pretzel woman (obviously not because she’d dare let bread pass her lips, this moniker is due to their ability to bend into the shape of a pretzel – probably in anger that they can’t eat one!) and her partner, because obvs, those who train together stay together (yawn) who don’t even break a glow, let alone a dripping sweat. Her hair is just that bit too perfect, they seem to be in ‘his n’ her’ outfits too. Behind me is Mr. Ballet. Why such a name? He is very concerned with making sure we can all hear him doing the proper breathing and stretching that bit further than everyone else. His breathing is so loud, it’s downright annoying. On my right is Mr Fit. I.e. I think he’s good looking. He looks ‘Normal’ and thankfully does break a sweat so hasn’t found this class a simple stroll in the park. He’s dressed ‘Normally’ and seems to be able to control how loud he breathes. At the far right are some, ‘older’ ladies. I thought they would be my ally, but no, I underestimated their ability to do pretzel legs too. Darn it. Somehow, I’m positioned in the middle of the studio and slap bang in front of most of the others. As we being, I decide to give my brain a telling off. I am not allowed to feel intimidated by the others, they were all beginners at one point. Granted, they may not have been a 13 ½ stone, 5ft 5”, incorrectly dressed including a metal splint beginner, but they were a beginner none the less. Instead, I am going to concentrate on the class.
Time flies when you are sweating a lot and the hour is actually really good. This is something I could, quite happily, do regularly (although not in baggy leggings and a t-shirt). I’d planned to go for a swim but, 5 minutes from the end, I remember I left some dark chocolate on the kitchen table and chocolate is poisonous to cats. This is conveniently timed with me standing up and realizing that was harder than I thought and I don’t have the energy to swim now anyway. I walk home just as the endorphins kick it. By the way, they are real. To someone who enjoys sitting on my backside, I thought the ‘endorphins are great’ tag line was bullshit. It’s not. It’s real. Walking home is fun… yes… FUN! Well I never. Smug little me heads home for some soup and an early night. Some may be wondering about the chocolate on the table. Well, firstly, that wasn’t my fault, a neighbor came round for a cup of tea and brought them with her. Secondly, I am building in some treat items every day. If I don’t, I’ll binge.
Just to add to the smugness I’m riding high on, I log onto my bank account and lo and behold, I’ve got a mortgage rebate. Turns out the shortfall I didn’t know I owed, was too much. All that stress to get the cash together and it wasn’t needed. It makes me mad but also, gives me the chance to book something for me. The majority went straight back to debt repayment however, I’ve saved a small amount to have my hair done. I hate the way I look. I am obese, spotty, with long rat tails as hair. The weight is work in progress, the spots are a lovely side effect of my meds so will have to stay for a while but hair, that’s something I can do something about. I didn’t think I could afford to get it done until November so this is very exciting. It’s booked for after Pilates on Wednesday.
Sunday has been spent making my god daughter laugh and teasing her sister all whilst eating pizza. It’s allowed as I’ve accounted for it and it’s fun to sit and eat something yummy. I am booked on a 90-minute yoga class tonight but I am so tired, thanks a a bad night’s sleep, (and a little sore from yesterday) that I am not sure if my motivation will get me up and out the house. I’ve got 2 hours until it starts so, we’ll see. Tomorrow’s fun involves walking and a Barre class – I fear this isn’t doesn’t involve the kind of bar I normally frequent.
Whilst floating on endorphins, this came out to say hello!