Earning my gold stars?

All in all, a pretty positive weekend, this one.

It started off with porridge on Saturday, but made with blueberry juice. Different. Nice, not too sweet and definitely different. We'll try it again, maybe with apple juice next time.

And then there was Saturday lunch with friends which turned into a mammoth session, er, actually lunch, tea and supper! I'm really delighted to report that I was sensible and made good healthy choices throughout the day and restrained my portion sizes to the bare minimum without offending the cook! Only one glass of wine too. It's left me feeling (justifiably?) proud of the fat lass.

It was really enjoyable but did, as I said, turn into a very long day. So much so that Sunday was spent, in part, sleeping off the extremely late night (wow - you mean there's more that one three thirty in a day?). The slow, sleepy start meant that I didn't get back on the rower as planned and actually, apart from the physio essentials, exercise took a bit of a back seat.

Still, the scales rewarded my efforts this morning and are hovering somewhere between 73kg and 73.5kg which means I've shed the bulk of my horrible seasonal weight gain. Only a couple of pounds at most to go before I'm back to where I was at the tail end of November. That will feel really good, and definitely be a step closer to my next goal which is to get to 70kg.

And there's some more good news to add to the pot. I had an appointment with the surgeon this morning for my 'wee problem'. He was quite an arrogant beggar, but really pleased with the progress I've made by doing the morning exercises. The best bit? He says that not only do I not currently need surgery for my 'faulty bits' but may, if I keep at the exercise diligently, not actually need surgery in the longer term. I am absolutely delighted and it motivates me to keep up the good work.

One funny thing happened over the weekend. I know I've talked before about self-image and the ability we have to delude ourselves. When we don't 'see' what we 'really' look like but have a skewed idea of our own appearance. Well, this certainly applies to me and I'm sure I've seen posts from other people along the same lines.

On Saturday I felt good about myself. I wore something new, quite brightly coloured and close-fitting and felt trim and stylish (OK, some emphasis on the 'ish') and pretty much like a 'normal' woman. But on Sunday (and I can't quite figure this one), my body-image was really, really awful. I felt like a big flabby overweight slug and all I wanted to do was hide all my fat bits under a shapeless baggy sweatshirt. Indeed I did hide, and felt miserable all day.

Today, I'm back to feeling quite OK about myself. Not fantastic, but at least OK. So, was it just tiredness? Hmmm, maybe, but I'm sure there must be more to it than that. Can't get my head around it right now.