I'm meant to be on a health kick.
I call it that, rather than a diet, to make it seem more feasible. The word "diet" conjures up images of starvation, faddy food, punishing yourself with exercise, and basically denying yourself everything you might remotely like - and also, if you use that word in front of others, they instantly start reassuring you that you categorically do not need to lose weight. "For God's sake, there's more meat on a butcher's pencil!" some might say (and HAVE said). Hmmm, well I can understand you telling Victoria Beckham or Nicole Richie they don't need to lose weight but considering I'm a good two stone heavier than them, I think I KNOW when I need to lose weight and when I don't.
The problem is in my head, I think. For I find it virtually impossible to deny myself. Pretty much ANYTHING. Apart from one diet seven years ago, when I did lose a huge amount of weight, I've just never had the willpower to stick to it. Chocolate is just too yummy - the way it melts in your mouth, coats your tongue in it's sugary milky goodness . . . I'm actually virtually salivating at the thought. They (the elusive "they") say that fruit makes a good substitute if you are craving something sweet. I (the actual me) say "b0llocks to that". A tangerine or handful of grapes is no substitute for Green & Blacks or Lindt chocolate.
Pizza and alcohol are my other two main vices when it comes to food and drink. Some days I crave a Dominos pizza like you wouldn't believe - usually I end up feeling horrible after my binge though. Remarkably, I actually managed to not drink for three days of this week - in a row. This is quite an achievement for me. Last night, however, I fell off the wagon in a major way for a Wednesday night staying in, and consumed a bottle of chardonnay which I only started drinking fairly late in the evening (and therefore was still drinking it after midnight). Let's face it though - I hadn't had alcohol for a couple of days - I deserved a reward surely? Isn't it logical that I rewarded myself with the very thing I'd been abstaining from? No?
Me and my flatmate are meant to be motivating each other. You know, cooking healthy food, doing an exercise dvd every day - they always say these things are easier if you have someone in it with you. It's not really working - for neither of us are ever up for getting fit or eating salad at the same time, and we're both so easily led that if one of us says "I can't be bothered tonight, let's sit on our arse and order a curry" the other isn't going to put up much of a fight. That being said, when we actually start DOING the fitness dvd we usually have a good laugh and push each other to finish it, but it's the getting started, along with the not eating crap thing, that is just impossible much of the time.
I can't resist the temptation of curling up on the couch with my pizza, chocolate and alcohol over the distinctly less appealing idea of eating some fish and salad and working out. What one is more fun? It's a no-brainer for me - the couch and junk food wins every time.
Even tonight - a TGI Fridays night where wine and cocktails won out over water, where "just going to have the one course" was beaten by "2 courses for less than a tenner" and where it seemed like a good idea to have an ice cream laden cocktail as dessert . . . you know, to SAVE calories. Hmmm . . .
Did I mention I'm drunk? Could you tell?
I'm good at covering it up, aren't I . . .?