We Need To Talk

Remember these words? We have all heard them at some point in our lives. It’s usually just before a shocking (see unwanted) piece of news comes our way.

Whoever makes this announcement is usually about to tell their truth.

Well, “We need to talk”.

I’m afraid I have possibly been a touch economical with my truth as I appear to have been leading you up a cul-de-sac of inaccuracies and figure I had better come clean lest I be found out.

Now I know when these words are spoken, the one who says them would usually follow it up with “It’s not you, it’s me” but on this occasion they have to be followed up with “I’m sorry, I lied”

I feel like a Southern Baptist Preacher. One who spouts Hellfire, Segregation, Brimstone and Treacle. You have all seen their reaction when they finally get caught out for having inappropriate relationships with members of their congregation, both men and women. They start to cry and pray to their God for forgiveness of their sins. All very theatrical I’m sure and in this situation, only very possibly a little bit over the top.

I lied. I broke my fasting day on Monday night. I was found wanting by that box of flapjack pieces. I was taken in and held under its sticky spell. I devoured them like a person who had never before seen carbs. I had eaten my usual fasting fare of fruit and then salad. I had been a paragon of fasting virtue and in one fell swoop it, my house of cards was taken down by mine own hand. On Tuesday (my second fasting day) I found that family were visiting mothers, so at lunchtime instead of an apple, I broke bread with them along with nutty rice salad, ham, sausage roll and mini Quiche. I got back on that train however and ate my sensible chicken with Quinoa, chick peas, Bulgar wheat, pickles, chillies etc. Still non the less. An epic fail.

I am fallen.

Unfortunately it doesn’t stop there. My lies gets worse.

You may recall the piece I wrote about Pilates classes? Well after speaking to the gym I was recommended to do a different class – one for older, stiffer wrinkly sorts just like me. But I kept forgetting and since that, day two sessions have gone by and I have attended neither. Oh the guilt. At least the Archie has kept me mobile.

Well today I aim to resolve my second indiscretion and attend that Pilates class. I am determined not to let myself down and forget. I shall walk the dog and then I shall go to the Pilates. I shall do this because it is good for me, well actually I shall do it because a friend caught me off guard last night and had me promise her that I would go to the class today, that there would be NO excuses and that I would get my “Pilate on”.

This post will now morph into something most unusual for me, because instead of sitting down to write all in one go, I shall be splitting it into two. The second half shall be a report on how sore I am after Portly Pilates at The TFD…

Back again. Thoroughly invigorated from my 3.5k walk with Archie and then my HOUR long session of Osteoarthritis Pilates. I say invigorated, I actually mean battered. I got to the gym and found that the class had been cancelled so I took Archie on a walk at double speed – well nearly, it was actually 2 minutes per kilometre over double speed so that resulted in a good workout. I achieved a good heart rate and due to my sheer bulk and the speed at which I walked, I am able to say I burnt off 494 calories on that walk alone. Add that to the Resting Metabolic Rate of 1984 calories it would mean that anything under 2478 calories for the day and I will be in the negative. This is good as far as I am concerned because today I aim to eat no more than 1400 calories with the food from which I have mentally built this evenings menu.

I am actually due out for lunch in a short while. I was a little concerned about this at first but then realised I could have a bowl of soup to eat and drink lime and soda water instead of Lager or Cider. Not as much fun I am sure you will agree, but far better for an expanding waistline whose owner has ignored him for two days on the trot. This is why when I was out getting my precious little Archie some chicken for his dinner, I resisted the temptation of buying refrigerated Cadbury’s milk chocolate. One of my many true weakness’s is cold chocolate. I picked it up, put it in my basket, walked around the store, got the chicken for Archie, picked up some fish for me and then went back to the fridge where I had picked up the chocolate and put it back. As you know I haven’t patted myself on the back for much since I started this long and arduous task, on this occasion I am giving myself a full round of applause.

Finally, this brings us to how I intend to atone for my calorific slips on Monday and Tuesday. I think walking the dog and burning off 500 calories is a step in the right direction to get some of the deficit clawed back and if I walk Archie again tomorrow on a route that I know is 6k long that should, according  to Map My Run Walk, use approximately 900 calories. This means if I watch myself carefully for these two days I should be able to get back on track because as ever, the weekend is on its way and as good as I am, who knows what delights that Bad Boy may hold…

Just as long as I don’t become a Bad Boy along with it.

‘Till tomorrow,

Stay out of the fridge.

2 thoughts on “We Need To Talk

  1. Osyth says:

    Bosh to the bad … it happened, you have worn your hairshirt and beaten yourself with birch twigs so enough already – what I want to say is hugely hugely well done for getting back on that wagon and mega respect for putting that chocolate back in the fridge. Keep going forward and don’t look back – what you are doing is awesome 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s