Trying to be good

Confession: I really didn’t like how I looked in the photos at Megz’s birthday party on Saturday night.

I was so … ample. Some serious filtering and cropping took place before there was a pic I was prepared to publish.

It seems the green-eyed maven I see in the mirror doesn’t translate to the digital view. A bit like how your voice sounds perfectly fine inside your head, but gives you the horrors when you hear a recording of it.

I still feel comfortable in my skin, there’s just a little too much of it.

I’ve decided to try and be GOOD for a while and shed a couple of kilos.

Being GOOD is so freaking dull though. Yesterday alone I turned down a vegetable bao that my co-worker Michelle offered me; I chose a mandarin for a snack instead of a Tim Tam; I went to the gym and did a Pump class; and I skipped a glass of wine after doing an hour on the treadmill my friend Mel last night.

Having Tim Tams and bao and wine is way more fun.

But certain things are becoming physically uncomfortable. My bras are cutting into the squishy flesh under my arms, half my wardrobe doesn’t fit any more and ordering creamy pastas in restaurants is waking me up at 1am with horrible heartburn.

I’m not going to starve myself, but I’m thinking a little restraint is finally in order.

I was such a skinny mini when I met DD that I’d swan around in a bikini. The Divorce Diet was a marvel and a wonder. I think the trick was that I barely ate for a month due to trauma, which rebooted my metabolism. After that, every time I was feeling down I’d walk up really steep hills until I felt better again. And I went to the gym every day. Admittedly, I wasn’t working at the time, so there were lots of spare hours in those days.

After the first month of dietary abstinence, I went back to fairly regular eating, but the weight still fell off.

It was giddily exciting to buy size 10 jeans.

I doubt that will happen again, because I’m over 50 now and loved up and addicted to hot chips and Oreo Wafer Sticks.

I don’t have a great history with restraint, so I’ll probably fall off the wagon within days and decide life is too short to miss out on salt and pepper squid.

Let’s see.

Sorry, diet blog posts are such a bore … a bit like the diets themselves!

Song of the day: Kate Bush “Running up that hill”

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2 thoughts on “Trying to be good

  1. We hear our own voices at about an octave lower than they actually are, maybe a little less, but not much, because it’s internal to us. That’s why it’s such a shock to hear a recording, to hear ourselves as others hear us. It took a while to get used to my recorded voice. Doesn’t freak me out anymore. How I look in photos? haha. That’s another matter entirely. Ooooh I hear you on that, although you always look fabulous.

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