As I walk into SlimmingWorld today my heart will be pounding. My knees will be trembling. My palms will be so sweaty my weigh in book will be as wet as the rain pouring down the windows.
My legs are so tired I wobble more than ever as I walk. They are empty of energy. I’ve used all my battery charge up in the week.
It’s Mr H’s fault, it always is (poor man). Last week he and two ladies who joined in the same week as we did, managed to get themselves to a tipping point of one pound short of a stone weight loss. The challenge is on he declared; we will all cross the line together next week…
Meanwhile I sat beside him mulling over the fact that I was another 2lb behind them all. I needed 3lb to cross the line holding their hands. Be with them. Together. A bag and a half of sugar.
Damn them I seeth…
I come home and work on a plan. Look at the week you lost 7lb Jude suggested, what did you do then. So, I pore over my SW diary for that week. I decide that I will copy it, eat the same things; the same amounts.
But I also decide to increase my BodyMagic – in other words my exercise. I am working on a plan to achieve my Silver Fit Award in four weeks, this is week two. Last week I blew it out of the water; this week I aim to add another hour; three hours of walking, a mountains worth but, like eating chocolate, in bite sized chunks.
Now those of you who know me, understand what a challenge walking is for me. I have to think every step, lift left leg, swing foot out (so as not to trip over my lifeless foot), place it back down then repeat. If I am interrupted by a friendly hello or a car I stop thinking and trip. Walking is like taking my brain and body out on a lead. I should give them a name; Fido or Tripper maybe…
Because I can’t drive, not allowed says the DVLA, I walk if I need to get to the shop or hairdresser in the village and for many years I have been doing a weekly exercise class for mostly elderly disabled people. I call it the Class for Wobbly People. We laugh, sing and dance as much as we exercise.
But this week will be different I say to Mr H. I am going to double my daily walks. Attempt two fifteen minute walks in the morning then another fifteen minutes later in the day.
To do this I need my third leg. It keeps my foot up, lessens the risk of trips and falls. Until recently I haven’t worn it much. Vanity gets the better of me. I can only wear flat shoes but I like pretty, smiley flat shoes. The third leg splint demands lace up shoes.
By Monday morning I have to drag myself out of bed, my legs follow grumpily. Nooo they plead no more. I have a Dentist appointment so I deafen my ears to their complaining, force my feet and third leg into the lace up shoes. And with Mr H by my side, to catch me if the wind blows me off my feet, I struggle down the hill. The pavements are topsy turvy with pot holes and patches of sticking plaster tarmac so I walk most of the way in the road.
I couldn't have done anymore...
So, Ladies and Gents when I step on the scales today, if it doesn’t reward me with 3lb off… do not be surprised if I shed a few tears when the others cross the line without me…
