A little light...?

Well, I don't know what is going on with my weight. Hard on the heels of an 'oh my God!' shock, horror gain is an equally astounding 'say what!' sort of a loss.

This morning (for good or ill I still can't help but check it daily, she sighs sadly) the scales were back down to 63kg. Huh? What's going on here? No entiendo, non capisco, ich verstehe nicht or, to put it another way, WTF?

In my book, a mere two days to lose 3 whole kilos whilst eating fairly decent amounts of good fresh produce and doing some sensible exercise (but not going mad-crazy) does not compute. Does this mean my scales are having a bad hair day today...or did they have one on Monday, for that matter?

Ho hum, don't know. I'll try hopping on again tomorrow and see what surprises are in store for me then. In the meantime I can happily report that munching my veggies and staying clear of the bread and treats for a couple of days seems to be helping me feel a bit more like 'me' and less of a bloated blob. I feel that a small window of motivation may be opening up... I just need to push and squeeze to get onto the other side and really go for it! My next goal is still that magical 60kg.

Oh, and the bad news - and ain't there always some. I am going to have to give up my beloved salsacise classes (violins play and tears creep into my eyes). As much fun as it is, and I sometimes laugh so hard at my lack of co-ordination that I almost cry, my dodgy knee just cannot cope with carrying on much longer. This week I had to stop and give it a break on more than one occasion as it was howling. What's more, it stays very irritable for longer and longer. Not good - the fat lass concludes that the damage she's done to herself over the years of carrying excess weight is a permanent feature. Growl!

So, next term I'll be going back to the Chi Kung class, which is not a bad thing. It is definitely not high-impact and should be good for me. For my poor knee and for 'me' spiritually as well as physically. It does mean that getting back to the gym needs to move up the priority list a little more quickly too.

Holding on in there

Never mind the New Year's resolution... I made myself a Christmas promise this year. So, I have been, still am, and will keep on making a really big effort not to let the seasonal eating (or offers of a glass or two of sherry!) overwhelm me and to keep my body moving - walking as much as the snow and ice will allow me to do. So far I seem to be doing reasonably well and went walking (OK, slithering) both yesterday morning and at lunchtime, and again today.

So far, so good and those lovely scales have settled back down under the milestone ten stone mark again. I have to say I am really, really pleased about that. In fact, I'm still dancing on air!

The small loss which puts me back to the right side of 'that mark' has been made a little easier by a cancelled weekend away asthe delightfully pretty, but not particularly helpful snowy weather rather got in the way of our travel plans! But, however disappointing, this meant we ate at home and I could control exactly what ended up on my plate - always a good move. Sadly, it means that the present shopping isn't done with yet and a mild but growing case of Yuletide panic is beginning to emerge.

I am now looking firmly forward to getting the annual festivities out of the way (ungrateful Scrooge-like mare that I am) and planning ahead to 2010 and getting back to salsacise and the gym. This is desperately needed to address some of the problems of the flabby belly and other bits! I really do need to firm things up a bit. Clothed, I look pretty reasonable for a fifty year old ex-fat lass, unclothed I rather remind myself of this...!

And yes, I know my belly won't ever go away completely and be smoothly flat. I won't ever look like those girls in bikini ads. Well, not without the intervention of a gowned man with a scalpel and, being a confirmed coward, I cannot contemplate that! It would be unrealistic of me to think it would as I've always had my share of the family protruding tummy. I remember being told it was 'puppy fat' when I was a teenager and my Dad used to affectionately call my Mum 'Pud' because she always had 'the tummy', however slim and elegant she was (and she was!).

On the positive side, I tried on a lovely deep red courduroy size ten (UK) skirt yesterday and it fitted me. It was cut for someone who did indeed sport a nice flat belly so was a bit too 'clingy' on the belly to wear and feel great (although the waistband wasn't tight), but trying a size ten was still a nice boost to my self esteem. Quite a Christmas present, in fact.

Good luck to all over this festive period. Hope Santa is kind and leaves those extra lbs out of the stocking!

Salsa!

Well, I wasn't wrong - it certainly got the fat lass moving. This morning my shoulders are telling me they've worked and a few other bits are creaky but, amazingly, I'm not hobbling about like a pensioner as I'd half expected. It was FUN!

We were an unpretentious bunch, all ladies of a certain age and none of us (bar our young, fit, and very svelte instructor) could in any way be described as slender. There was a whole lot of flab strutting it's stuff in the dance studio last night and it was wonderful to see. Better still, there wasn't an ounce of dayglo Lycra in sight; we all turned up in ratty old jogging bottoms which had seen better days so I felt right at home.

Like almost everyone else, I left my class a delicate shade of lobster, dripping with sweat and completely exhausted after an hour of complex and exhilarating moves to some fantastic music. I'm still struggling to see the finer points of a forward salsa and a mambo move, even now. After one session I've come to the conclusion that, not only do I have two left feet but I have two left arms as well and neither set of limbs can function if the other is being asked to perform. In other words, co-ordination probably isn't my greatest strength.

Having said that, I probably used up more calories killing myself laughing at my own misadventures than I used for the dance moves. If everyone else went left, somehow I ended up going right! One lady obviously 'got it' so I ended up following her rather than trying to translate what the instructor was doing (while facing me) into which bits of the fat lass should be moving in what direction. I haven't had such a fun-filled, hilarious hour in ages and I'll definitely go back for more next week.

Maybe this is the motivation I need to get the exercise kick-started again in earnest.