I’ve just got home from a really lovely weekend in Bournemouth visiting my eldest son. So nice to spend time with him and his girlfriend, but on the flip side, I always feel a little … bereft when I come home. I don’t know if that’s the right word. Half of me is so happy that he is happy, and the other half misses him terribly. You can never prepare yourself for the time when your children grow up and leave home and it just seems to have come round so quickly that I think I blinked and missed his childhood. But he’s happy so I need to just stop being all … bereft ‘n that.
I’ve had a really positive week, both exercise and food wise … well, everything wise really. I have a new exercise routine of Zumba, Spin, Zumba, Spin, with some weight training and cardio thrown in between, and then come Friday night I’m treating myself to a Terry’s Chocolate Orange in bed. Who said I don’t know how to live! It would be nice to share it with someone special but … hang on, Kate doesn’t share chocolate!
As an aside, I made Slimming World Pulled Pork again, one of our favourite mid-week meals, and it was bloody lovely. I put a bit more chilli powder in this time and it was even better the next day!
But I’ve worked really really hard this week, not going over my syns (until the chocolate orange thing), getting high-fived by my spin instructor because I worked so hard, finally working my way up to the front row at Zumba. All good positive stuff.
So why the bloody hell have I put on 1lb this week? (So that’s a total loss of 3 stones and 1lb.) Honestly, bodies are so weird. I’m not due to have my PC (Phantom Cycle) for another two weeks so I can’t blame it on that. The only thing I can think of is that because I have upped my exercise, my body is retaining a bit more water, and I’m gaining more muscle #lookattheseguns and that could explain the minor weight gain.
But it’s just 1lb and I don’t really care that much if I’m honest. I am an absolute MACHINE in the classes I go to, keeping up with women literally half my size and men half my age. It’s all about attitude, and when I do a class, whatever it is, I try really hard because this is so important to me. Maybe 20-year-old Kate might have approached classes differently, but I just don’t feel like I have any time to waste anymore. I need to get this weight off. I need to get fit and strong. And the only way to do that is to put the effort in. No-one else can do it for me.
So it’s a bit of a bummer that the scales didn’t reflect the hard work I put in this week but fingers crossed, it will come off next week. And I did buy a size 14 top this week, so the scales can kiss my big (but much firmer) ass.
Although having said that, I definitely had a few treats whilst in Bournemouth, but I tend to do that most Saturdays now … not go overboard, but just relax and eat what I like within reason for that one day.
A quick post this week because there’s a bath upstairs with my name on it.