People are being nice to me at the moment and pointing out that I've lost weight. I have. I've lost a stone. Why people are only just noticing it now I do not know. It's nice that they are but I've sort of fallen off the wagon a bit this week. I'm pretty nervous about my weigh in on Wednesday. It'll be a drag if I've put it on. I think I might have done a bit. I've been making it up by going to the gym loads. I think perhaps the thing to do is a solid aerobics class. Get sweaty! Either that or get diohorrea. Or cut my arms off.
I remember once when two of my mates came back from India and I caught some sort of horrible stomach bug off them*. My stomach must have contracted to the size of a pea. I shot vomit from my mouth and s#it from my ar#e at the same time! Imagine that! You can't. No matter how hard you try, that's something you have to experience to understand. F#cking brutal. Lost half a stone though.
The problem with losing weight is that you get cocky about it. You start thinking it's easy to lose it: "so what's the hurry? Have a week off. You're okay. Just a bit chubby. What's the problem?".
My internal monologue bumbling away there. It's hard not to listen to it. It speaks such sense. What's wrong with stuffing your face anyways? Food is good.
Don't want to have to put weight on though. Not so good.
Gym again tomorrow meethinks.
*I've no proof it was their fault but it will have been. I get sick. They're sick. They made me sick. Must have done.