(In the interest of full disclosure it should be noted that I am writing this while polishing off a large tiramisu from Sainsburys. You know the one...)
I've always been a bit of a contrarian. Tell me no, and I'll do it. Tell me yes, intending to use reverse psychology on me, and I'll punch you in the neck, and then do it. I like doing things at my pace, and hate being wrangled. And that's probably why weight loss isn't fun for me - to get from my size, to the size I need to be, I can't work at 'my' pace. I need to work on a schedule, with some rules laid out. And, I'll need to do it in front of people, something I *hate* doing.
It's weird how one small part of your life can be so intrinsically tied to everything else. I was mopping the kitchen floor last night, and was stuck by how much I was huffing and puffing. How much more clean the house could be if I wasn't winded mopping, I thought. Not that my house is a biohazard, but I could certainly keep a tighter ship. And my kid - he'll be walking soon. Will I be a mummy that runs after him in the park, or one that has to sit on the park bench, "to keep an eye on things"?
Tonight I step on the Wii for the unofficial weigh in, so that I don't die of shock when I am at my doctor's office. I'm looking over meal options, but I think I am going to start with a modified Paleo diet (lots of meat, veggies, no dairy, and no ground grains like bread or pasta, but I will have rice and potatoes). And yes, it means I'll have to look for a cheap and cheerful exercise class once a week, just so that I am held accountable by other folks around me.
Ugh. If only taking the weight off was as fun as putting it on.