I’m stuck. For the last 2 weeks, I haven’t shifted a single pound. I appear to have arrived at a plateau and the frustration is immense.
However carefully you manage your consumption of food and drink, however diligently you exercise, it happens eventually. The plateau. The damned, excruciating, bloody-well-not-fair, I-must-have-a-sluggish-colon, oh-not-again-come-on-you-can’t-be-serious, my-scales-must-be-broken… plateau.
The unfairness of it all.
I’ve given up added/refined sugar – totally. I’ve had no potatoes and no bread so far this year, and only a few teaspoons of rice – the wild, brown stuff. I’ve had one tiny weeny alcoholic drink since Christmas. I eat seaweed instead of potato chips. I munch my way through a forest of greenery every week, with no mayonnaise. And I never, ever snack between meals. And yet… And yet…
Okay, so maybe I’ve become a bit lax on one or two little things. Are my tiny slivers of cheese still a maximum of 20g? Has my little knob of butter in a scrambled egg lunch got a little knobblier than it should? Was it really very naughty to put a tablespoon of half-fat crème fraiche in a home-made, pure and clean tomato soup? Guilty, m’lud. If that’s all it takes, mea culpa.
But then there’s the exercise. I’ve been building this up and now, instead of a lunchtime 30 minutes, I’m getting an early morning 45-60 minutes (temperatures close to zero) under my belt before I start work, almost every day. I know that’s not a massive amount, but it’s more than ‘Government recommendations’ and it’s about as much as my still ample frame and overworked joints can regularly tolerate. To that, I add Pilates and an occasional half-hour swim. When I weigh a little less – when I can push past this persistent pesky plateau – I will up my game again. I will… I will…
But in the meantime, it’s a real punch-in-the-gut that this amount of pavement pounding on chilly mornings, and the seismic changes I’ve made to my diet, aren’t proving sufficient to nudge my weight down a notch or two past that horrible horizontal line.
I know. Sooner or later my constitution will reawaken. I might kick-start it with a fast-day. Or perhaps it will be one of those days (a little more frequent at the moment than usual) when emotional disturbance intrudes – the kind of thing that puts your gut through the wringer – but, oh, you know, every cloud and all that.
Eventually… it will pass. Meantime, readers, avert your eyes whilst I throw sugar-free yogurt at the wall and curse my weighing scales.