And yet things had started so well on Wednesday, getting another positive weigh in and then going for a run while my youngest was having a settling in session at his nursery. However, as the day progressed things just started getting on top of me. My eldest wasn't on great form on getting picked up from school, refusing to talk to me about the accident he'd had and was a little bit lippy for the first time, probably a by product of the playground experience. At the swimming class, I learned that the father of one of my football mates had passed away unexpectedly (more about that in a minute or two). Through the swimming pool window I watched my boy crying at one of the teachers, and when he came into the changing room afterwards did not want to talk about it with his dad. In the noise of kiddies getting dry, my youngest was getting agitated and somehow or other I managed to leave behind my son's nice winter coat. All in all not the best couple of hours I've had in recent memory.
Obviously most of the above was relatively trivial but the sad news of Peter passing did hit me. Not so much in a personal capacity as the man in question was a passing acquaintance who I might say hello to occasionally at football matches. It was more the empathy that I had towards my friend, having lost my father prematurely many years ago. I was a little overcome with both sadness and anger that another father I knew, or knew by association, had been taken well before their time. Peter joined a list containing Robert, Brian, Martin, Mr Redmond and Chris. I thought about them all and the gloom set in. Thursday wasn't very productive. Friday I tried to snap out of it by going for a run, but inside of 2km my head overruled my body and said no. I did walk the rest of the planned route so it wasn't a complete waste, but I just wasn't in the mood. For anything.
Saturday morning I attended ParkRun as usual and found myself buoyed by the pre-race activity. Peter was a stalwart of the event, and his running club turned out in numbers, proudly wearing their colours. The course director gave a fitting tribute and dedicated the race to him. I still wasn't feeling my best but there was no way I was going to give up on the course. My finish time didn't matter. While I found it a struggle, I did feel the gloom clouds break up a little as I made my way round. That didn't stop me eating and drinking more than I needed to over the weekend.
So why may you ask, am I giving such a detailed account of the past week when most of it is not particularly relevant to a dieting blog? Well, the simple fact is that if you dedicate yourself to a sustained period of weightloss, there will be times when dieting becomes both difficult and unimportant. You can't expect to be motivated day in day out, and sometimes outside influence affect your ability to stick with it. How quickly you can regain your motivation will decide whether a slump in temporary or longer lasting. Had I weighed in on Monday morning, I've no doubt that I would be reporting weight gain this week. But on Monday a switch flicked and I returned to form. Back to my tried and tested diet plan. Back to cutting out snacks. Back to getting on with enjoying what is the penultimate week of my additional paternity leave.
Whatever damage I perceived to have done to my waistline up until that point was rescued from then onwards. And then some. I stood on the scales 2lbs lighter than last week at 14st 9lbs. At a time when I expected to find weightloss a painstaking process, I've instead accelerated. Half a stone has gone in the past three weeks and I'm getting close to the lightest I've ever been as an adult. One more pound and the BMI calculator will tell me that I'm Normal Weight, rather than overweight. I take the calculation with a pinch of salt, but it would be a nice landmark to reach.
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| Did not expect this |
The clocks go back this weekend. Even with the adoption of murky mornings and 4pm darkness, I'm determined not to turn back the clock and revert to my old ways.
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