Disappointed with my weight loss my first week. Wasn’t the three stones I was looking for. Hey ho, need to settle with 2 ½ then. Not stones, (I wish!!?!) two ana half pounds.
To be fair, I had two girly days in among that, a 50th birthday lunch, I supported ‘Eat out to help out’ which I feel I did well on and had wine three nights instead of the one I promised I’d have.
All in all a crackin’ week then eh!
I’m sticking with my challenge of 10,000 steps minimum, Monday to Friday but it’s horrible when it’s humid.
I’m a sweaty burd on a good day, mix that with onset menopositivity and humidity (menoposhumidity?)…you get the picture.
Today, Piper and I went on our afternoon walk. It was toasting and I was beginning to wish I hadn’t had my shower before setting off. Hadn’t dried my hair cause reckoned I’d need another shower when I got home. Despite using nuclear powered deodorant my pits need more than a spritz after a 5k dauner.
It started spitting after 1k. A mere summer sprinkle.
It started heavier sprinkling after 2k. A chance to short cut and get home quicker but it’s warm rain like abroad and I’m wet anyway.
It was raining at 3k. Skin is waterproof. Piper has started looking over her shoulder at me indicating we should use short cut number two and head home. It’s not that bad.
4k. Things got tropical. I was wearing a skip hat and my face was getting wet? Why?? …’cause its bouncing off the pavement into my face, that’s why.
After 5k, my dog hates me, my skin, although waterproof, feels as though it’s leaking from somewhere, my front step is receptacle for skip hat, troosers, pants, top and bra. Operation, ‘Dry a soggy, in the huff labradoodle’ commences.
However…on the plus side…I’m NOT sweaty!!??!!
No beginnings of honky underarms, no puce face, no worrying folk can see the sweat patches on my clothes so sweating more from anxiety and making it worse.
Not in the ‘too cool for school’ sense but the temperature cool.
It’s the way forward, the Lighter Weigh forward and I’m going to choose to embrace it.
No crowded pavements to walk on, no avoiding kamikaze cyclists or stopping to pet other cute dogs, no having to stop for Piper to smell every larger than average clump of grass, I’ve just got to try and avoid the tropical downpours and only walk in warm rain.
Not much chance of that then, living in Scotland an all that. I can dream.