Well, I measured and lost about 8.5 inches. After much urging from the board of dieters that I chat with daily. I also weighed myself (eek!). And it was scary. But at least now I'll know how much weight I'll have lost.
Nothing really interesting to report, except that I have to be a domestic goddess on this diet and organised, so that's the hardest part. The eating every three hours is getting easier. Ah well, we'll see how it goes.
I think I'm slimmer. I don't measure until Thursday but my naked appearance in the mirror looks smaller. The eating schedule is really hard to get used to though. Eating that often means I have to be (eek!) organised and prepare my food way ahead of time.
So far, so good. I'm off to start drinking my 3 litres of water now....
Well, this is the strangest thing. Hunger. I'm not used to hunger. Stomach burning hunger. I am eating 5-6 times a day and drinking 3 litres of water and my hunger is around. It's very encouraging, it means that my metabolism is kicking up a bit.
Yay!
Well, I initially intended this to be a chronicle of my personal inner 'a- grow- grow' whilst my body is shrinking. Sort of a funky inverse dynamic. Then the excuse-a-thon happenned:
Okay, before I became a massage therapist, I never was the girly-girl type that had long nails. Now that I can't have them, I sometimes wish I could get them. Instead, I've got gel toe-nails. Pretty gel toe nails. Very pretty gel toe nails.
The only problem with that is that wearing running shoes for exercising (long power-walks) is not the most comfortable. My very pretty toenails sometimes scrape against the tips of the shoes. I get them trimmed regularly, but my toenails grow quickly. It's quite freak-ish.
Ouch. I was considering giving up my fashion toes. Another Ouch. I am stuck between ouches.
I came up with a solution. I have now found sturdy sandals that you can adjust at the heel, and at the arch and right before the toes. So, as long as the summer lasts, my day has been made.
I can exercise and keep the pretty toes. Yay! Now all I need is to allow sexercise back in my life.
P.S. I tried to take a picture of my toes, but it turns out they're not very photogenic.
I am still re-thinking things with my bloggie. But in the meantime, I thought I would discuss something that's been on my mind for awhile.
'They', who ever they are, say you can't go back. Which is true. Things change after you leave. There is the possibility of going back to the same place that you once lived geographically and starting over, though.
And that's what I've done. Started over in the same place I lived 1992. And I've lived here for 3 years now. I've made a life, albeit a quite mundane one. I have a business. I enjoy my career.
But I wonder about the tangents my life has taken. 'They' also say that a moment can change your life. And it can. If I hadn't gone out drinking on a weekday 15 years ago, I wouldn't have met my ex-husband. I wouldn't have moved to Salford. Who would I be now without that experience?
An unanswerable question. But I keep on changing. My close friends know that I am a walking sexual encyclopaedia. But I have recently chosen to become a celibate girl this year.
Also, over the past few years have gotten earthy. I love pagan ideals and ways. I was travelling in that direction previously, but it really didn't mix too well with computer culture. It brews nicely with massage therapy.
So the ultimate question is - does your essence stay the same although your geography, culture, ideas and age change? Am I still all things Jill?
I've been going over my blog, and it kind of (read really) sucks. So I am re-thinking and revamping, and will reappear very soon.
Love,
Jill
