Obsessed

I think I have a serious girl crush on Lisbeth Salander.
Yes, I know she's a fictional character. And I don't really give a monkey's.

Crazy busy.

In fact, so busy I barely have time to breathe.
I'm running around from one cocktail party to another, from gym to work to the shops to home, and then to yet another party. This hectic lifestyle seems to be working well for my weight loss plan: this morning I was 120.1. When I saw it, I almost jumped for joy. Not much further to go!
I'm also getting ready for my holiday, which is going to be a challenge: Barcelona is a city full of devilishly good food and I'm going with my boyfriend, so avoiding food is not an option. Instead, I'll go for small portions and low-calorie items. And I'll walk. A lot. After all, there's no better way to do some serious sightseeing than on foot.
All I need to do now is convince my partner that taking the metro is a no-no when you can walk.
I hope the new trekking shoes I bought him as a surprise gift will do the trick.

A surreal experience.

Saturday night: no sleep. Instead, pedaling along with 1400 other cyclists all through the night. Just an empty road, lots of bike lights blinking in the pitch black, lots of laughter and friendly people. The sound of bike chains rolling on the cogs, the sound of changing gears, the bats flying above our heads. And then the sunrise, not dramatic, just slowly creeping in, the night giving way to a new day. The cool morning on the pebbly beach, nothing but a tiny cafe - and bikes, an unbelievable number of bikes. Then the station, the train we were thrown out of ("Only four bikes allowed", said the conductor, and there were 50 or so), riding for another 30 miles to the nearest big station, pushing myself even more. Running on empty, grunting on the uphill parts, going against the wind. The train home, no time to sleep, talking to other fellow crazy people who did the Dunwich Dynamo this year.
An unforgettable night.
Now I know why some people say it's addictive. I can't wait for the next year's edition. Meanwhile, more cycling next weekend. And the weekend after that.
No change on the scales, I'm afraid; not yet. I turned into an Omnomnom Monster yesterday - I think it was the combination of lack of sleep, hunger, muscle pain and exhaustion that made me devour more than I should have. A total of 1200-1300 kcals, so not that bad really, but my stomach wasn't very happy. This is what happens when you get used to not having normal-sized meals.
Oh well.
Back to normal today (cereal with skimmed milk for breakfast, sushi for lunch, air for dinner), and I'm planning to visit the gym, too. And yes, I did cycle to work, ignoring the whines and complaints of my sore bum.
Still tired. Need sleep. Or more coffee. Or both.

So I can't go liquid all the way tomorrow.

Apparently, that would leave me with no energy for Saturday night's ride.
Oh well. I'll just stick to 1000. And so sorry, but the big pasta meal for dinner tomorrow won't be happening. In fact, dinner tomorrow won't be happening at all, period. Unless fat-free vanilla Activia counts for dinner, that is.
I'll stick to bran flakes with skimmed milk, sushi and a kiwi/strawberry smoothie. That, plus some coffee, should get me through the day.
If I stick to my usual pace, I should burn around 4000 kcals. How's that for a good workout, huh?

I must be doing something right.

The black pencil skirt I couldn't take a step in is not so tight anymore.
My black satin trousers hang loose on my hips and thighs.
And my "measuring skirt" that I've had since I was 13... Well, let's just say it's done its job. It's roomy now, surprisingly big, it wraps around me easily and there's still some space left between it and my waist. I used to say to myself that if I fit into this skirt, I'll be thin enough.
I'm not.
Back to my master plan now: anything between 600 and 800 kcals a day, plus lots of exercise. Went to the gym this morning, then cycled to work. Recently I've been locking myself up in one of the shower cubicles during my lunch break and doing lunges and squats while reading a book. Any way is good to squeeze in some more exercise.
And the Dunwich Dynamo is approaching. I've just read some advice on how to prepare for the ride. One of them was to "eat a large pasta meal the night before". I find it difficult to even think about eating a large meal of any sort, let alone pasta, in the evening, but if that's what it takes, I might give it a try.
120 miles. At night. With no medical or logistical support whatsoever. Sounds crazy? Well, I'm crazy enough to do it.
I just hope I'm strong enough to get to the end.

Surprise, surprise.

After 5 days of eating around 1000 kcals a day I haven't gained a single pound. Which is good news.
The bad news is I haven't lost anything either. But now it's back to normal, back to my usual work/gym/home/feeding everyone but myself pattern. The party's over, time to get to work again.
And I will.

Sophie passed on the Blogger Addict Award to me, so I shall comply and reveal my five pet hates and five greatest loves. So:

J'adore:
- cycling, especially long distances. I guess I just like putting my endurance to the test.
- high heels. I can't live without them, I feel naked in flats.
- my two completely mental cats. Oh, what the hell, I love all cats in general.
- those balmy nights by the Thames when sitting on my balcony and watching the city lights seems to be the best thing on Earth.
- books. Need I say more?

Je deteste:
- reality TV. I can think of many nicer things to waste my time on.
- people who text while crossing the road and completely ignore me when I ring my bell to warn them. I'm sure one of those of days I'll hit one of them. And I won't even be sorry.
- cargo pants. Perhaps there are some people out there who look good in them. I'm not one of them.
- looking at my bank balance around the end of the month. Ouch.
- nosy people who insist on giving you advice, even though you never asked for it.

Five fab people I'd like to pass this on to are:
Hazy, because I'm curious of your answers,
Pretty Wreck, because reading you is pure delight,
Kristal, because sometimes you remind me of... well, the younger me,
Kemper, because you deserve it,
Lund3on, because you're a rebel and I've always had a soft spot for rebels.

Two days of eating dangerously.

And somehow I still managed to lose almost a pound. Yee-haw!
Plus, I have an enormous hangover today (from all the wine we got on the house last night), which means I can't even think about food at the moment. If it wasn't for the headache, I'd actually enjoy being hungover.
I was supposed to go for a day trip with friends today, but, to be honest, I don't really feel like going anywhere now. I'd rather stay home and watch the cats play. They have a new favourite game: one cat hides behind the curtain and the other one paws it frantically. Sometimes I'd like to be a cat. I'm sure they appreciate life's simple pleasures.

Fuck.

Double fuck. With cherry on top.
Yes, it's lovely when they remember your birthday at work. Yes, it's delightful when they want to celebrate it with you. But why, oh, why do they have to do it with a chocolate cake? A fat-free yoghurt would do just fine.
I'm going to need an extra punishing workout tomorrow. And a liquid fast until the evening.
Good thing the picnic on Saturday's canceled. We're going to do some sightseeing in Hampton Court instead. Sightseeing = walking = burning calories. I'm always up for burning calories. Plus, I'm going to do a water and green tea fast. If the girls ask too many questions, I'll just tell them I'm too hungover to eat. That always sounds better than "Sorry, can't eat today, otherwise my arse is going to become the size of a double-decker bus".
It's going to be a long weekend.
Oh, and BTW, Monday's liquid, too. Boyfriend's at work, I'm off and plan to do some shopping and meet my sister. For a coffee. No muffin.

They seem to love me dearly.

They cling to me, holding for dear life, not willing to let me go. They are perfectly happy where they are and I cannot persuade them to go away. They are completely, totally in love with me.
Oh, spare pounds, when will you understand that I don't need you and I don't want you?

My world, my rules.

1. Whatever you eat, think about how many calories it contains.
2. No mindless munching. Ever.
3. Why bother eating when no-one's watching? You might as well bank the calories.
4. Chocolate is delicious, but fruit won't make your bum the size of a lorry.
5. Not hungry? Don't eat. Hungry? Have some water, wait for 20 minutes and see if you really were, or if it was just a craving.
6. If you can walk, don't stand. If you can move, don't sit.
7. Contrary to popular belief, you can function pretty damn well on liquids.
8. There's no such thing as a bad day for the gym/cycling/jogging/swimming.
9. Healthy diet is good - for maintaining weight. You still have a lot to lose, so stick to your ways, at least for now.
10. Smile. There can't be anything wrong with you if you do, can there?

Meticulous planning

It takes a long time to plan a meal out.
First, there's looking for a place that wouldn't be too dangerous. So, no Italian, no Indian, no place where you know they have tempting desserts. You're strong, yes, but sometimes it's not enough.
Then, it's looking at menus. Checking calorie contents, comparing options, deciding ahead what you can and cannot have. You know you should let it go, at least once in a while, but you just can't stop playing the numbers game. You count, you cut, you plan.
Then, it's time to put on a mask. Smile, laugh, pretend you're making decisions on the spot, just like other people do. If you're lucky, you might just skip the starter, go straight to mains and then leave half of your food on the plate. After all, when everyone's busy chatting and socializing, they might not notice. Desserts? Not for you. You're stuffed, you're full, you can't handle any more. That one meal, the only meal of the day, was almost too much anyway.
It would be so much easier not to think about it, not to obsess so much, but somehow you find it difficult to let yourself go.
So, you plan. Meticulously. Because eating is like going to war.

Whoops, I did it again.

I cycled to Brighton. It was a wonderful, hot day with a bit of a breeze to cool us down. A good, fast-paced group of cyclists. Not much food (still under 1000) and plenty of water. I managed to ride all the way up Ditchling Beacon. A 15-minute, slow, painful climb, but the views from the top made up for the exhaustion. In Brighton, some people decided to go for a swim in the sea. I didn't go; I still feel very self-conscious about how I look in a swimsuit. We went to a pub, ate (some of us), drank (most of us) and headed back home on a train.
And I still haven't had enough of cycling. I rode from the station. Another 9 miles to add to the daily balance.
Very, very proud of myself.
Dunwich Dynamo is in two weeks and I'm getting more excited by the minute.

Bright and early.

I'm a morinng person. I can't help it. My body is used to early starts and there's no way I could sleep longer than until 6am.
So, up already, had my breakfast (Weight Watchers vanilla yoghurt, a boiled egg, a slice of Ryvita with light cream cheese) and a proper espresso (instant coffee is one of my pet hates), and now I'm ready to cycle to Brighton. That's over 60 miles cycling. And over 2000 kcals burned. Plus, it's good fun. What's not to like?
Just finished reading Marya Hornbacher's "Wasted" again and, again, I am amazed by the sharpness of her mind and the brilliance of her writing. What I really like is that she's not preaching, not giving the reader a nice, neat, clean ending but instead makes you wonder about the implications of having an eating disorder and its influence on life. I've read quite a few books on the subject, but none of them moved me so much, none of them was as real and harsh and brutal as this one. It's not a typical teenage diary of a perfect little girl who wants to be even more perfect. It's not a sob story with a miracle at the end. It's a honest picture, and it's scary. Some people claim it may be "triggering". Triggering, my arse. Terrifying, more like.
Oh, and by the way, I was 124.3 this morning. So it looks like I was right to buy this dress!

I have a confession to make.

(Cue drum rolls and trumpets.)
Here goes: I don't binge. Ever. I just never really feel like stuffing myself with so much food I could burst. I wish I could say I understand the mechanisms of binging. I don't.
The closest I ever get to a binge is eating a 2-course meal. Even then, I count calories in my head, I hardly ever clear the plate and I control myself completely. Oh, did I mention that I don't eat for the whole day before said meal? Well, I don't. That's the only way to convince myself it's OK to actually sit down and eat once in a while.
I don't purge either. I did try laxatives, but they didn't work for me, I only felt dizzy with dehydration and very, very weak. Vomiting was never an option. I just can't do it and that's it. As for overexercising, I don't think I'm prone to that, either, although some of my couch potato friends would beg to differ. Oh well, they're happy sitting on the sofa and chewing on another Mars bar, I'm happy on my bike, enjoying the fresh air. So what if I sometimes cycle for 6-7 hours straight? I enjoy it and that's all. The fact that cycling burns shitloads of calories is a bonus.
Weight is still at 125 pounds and I decided not to wait any longer to reward myself. Instead of a top, I bought a fab dress from Asos. I'm planning to wear it to my birthday party. Well, one of the four (sic!) I'm having this year. Crikey, I never thought the older you get, the more birthday outings you have. But then, it's quite logical, because the older you get, the more people you meet.
Oh, and my boyfriend decided to get rid of his belly and he's on a diet, too. Which is good, as he's going to be more focused on changes in his own body than those in mine. Just peachy.

Elated

I honestly don't know how it happened, but I saw 125.0 on the scale this morning!
OK, I know how this happened: for the last two days, I consumed almost exclusively liquids. So that might have something to do with the sudden weight loss. Weird: I still feel strong, no dizziness, no weakness, a clear mind. That's good.
This morning I had breakfast (bowl of Special K with skimmed milk and 4 prunes), I made myself a sandwich for lunch (my boyfriend teases me about my sandwiches, which usually consist of 2 slices of Ryvita, some light cream cheese and a slice of lean cooked ham) and I'll have an apple and a clementine. That's the whole lot.
And if my weight doesn't go up until Monday, I'll do as I promised and buy myself a nice top.
I'll be going back home to see the family in September. Note to self: must get skinny before September. Another note to self: must stay skinny while there. My mum is a serial dieter, so she'll be very understanding. She knows I had some serious problems with food as a teenager, but she firmly believes that I'm old enough to get it right this time.
That's a relief.

Not a "porcelain butterfly"

Good news: after what seemed to be an endless plateau, I saw 127.2 on the scale this morning. I wanted to jump for joy, but didn't want to risk waking up the neighbours.
Bad news: my birthday is approaching fast and all of a sudden everyone wants to go out with me and have something to eat. So I have to brace myself for impact and prepare for gaining some weight. On the other hand, if I don't eat anything for the whole day and stick to safe options while out, I might - just might - be able to get through it with minimal damage.
I'm reading a lot of blogs and websites on disordered eating these days. There seems to be an ongoing trend for worshipping anorexia nervosa, especially among very young women. Even though I do have a weird relationship with food, I'm not one of those pro-ana types, who call themselves "butterflies" and pray to "ana". Pro-skinny, yes. But why would I want to delve even deeper into the twisted world of ED? Self-destruction was not and is not my intention. I want to be skinny, but I also want to stay strong. What's the point of losing weight if all you can do after that is sit in your room, stare at your tiny arms and hate yourself more and more?

Getting somewhere?

A guy that fixes our computers at work has just popped in a few minutes ago.
'Wow', he said when he saw me, 'you've lost a lot of weight! You look like one of those fashion models. What's your secret?'
'Oh, I just eat less', I answered, 'and I cycle a lot'.
Technically speaking, I told him the truth. I didn't feel the need to divulge what 'less' means.
Did I believe his words? Not really. But they made me feel a bit better about myself. Good enough to skip lunch, actually.
No gym this morning; instead, I exercised at home, while watching 'Supersize vs Superskinny'. I have a thing for this show. I especially like the moment when the doctor puts all the stuff that his patients eat in a giant tube. When I see the supersizers' food, a disgusting mix of sausage, fried noodles, white bread, refined meats, crisps, chips, greasy sauces, mayonnaise and fizzy drinks, I feel sick and can't even think about eating.
So, TV is not always bad for you.

Head pounding.

Didn't have a lot of sleep this weekend. Didn't have a lot of food, either. It's hard to focus on anything else when you have two cats running wild all over the flat.
Weight is still the same, but I'm sure it won't be long until I see another drop. My pencil skirt, which I wear at work, is already a bit looser on the hips. The waistband is barely touching my body. It's a big mood lifter.
Spent the morning at the gym (elliptical, treadmill, some arm and ab work). Breakfast was a bowl of Special K with skimmed milk, I have some home-made tomato soup for lunch. I'll have to eat something in the evening, as my partner will be home, so I bought a box of raspberries for dinner. I'd love to do a liquid fast for two or three days, but it's nearly impossible at the moment. Too dangerous; I don't want him to know, I don't want him to suspect anything.
So far, the hiding's going good. I eat when he's around - the usual, low-calorie, diet stuff which he got used to me eating. Little does he know that when he's not, I stay away from food. Do I feel guilty? To be honest, I don't. I know a relationship should be based on trust, but I also know everyone has their little secrets. This is mine. It's not like I'm sleeping with someone else. It's just a little love affair with madness.

Mayhem and madness

This is what happens when you decide to get a second cat to keep your resident cat company.
Hissing, spitting and growling is the norm, apparently. So is temporary loss of appetite. Unfortunately, it doesn't affect me. I already managed to devour a handful of Special K cereals, a fat-free, sugar-free Shape yoghurt and five prunes.
Plus, I know now why my weight didn't go down for the past 4 days: my period has arrived this morning in all its glory. I still don't understand why I need it at all. I don't even want to have children.
This morning, though, I was pleased to see 128.3 lbs on the scale. That's progress!
My food plans for today include lots and lots of water with lemon ('I'm not hungry, sweetheart, I can't bear the thought of eating in this hot weather') and, perhaps, some tomato soup ('I had to try that new blender; no, I'm not in the mood for main course, but you go on, help yourself'). A friend is coming over for dinner. Very fortunate; with someone else around, my boyfriend will refrain from asking questions. After all, he's a polite chap.
Off to the gym now. Shame to waste such a lovely day for being lazy.

One-track mind

'I might have to go to New Jersey to visit my mum this year', he says.
'I'll miss you', she replies.
But in her mind, there's a plan forming. Liquid fast, severe restricting, more than enough exercise. Without his oh-so-watchful gaze, without his questions, she'll be able to do it her way, at least for a while.
'I wish you didn't have to go', she lies.
'I know', he answers, free of suspicion.

Succumbing

My partner keeps moaning about us not going out as frequently as we used to. Funny, that: he used to love evenings on the sofa and was always unhappy when I asked if he'd like to go out in the evening. I'm tired, he kept saying, so I stopped asking and found other people to go out with. And now he's kind of jealous that I go out with them a lot while he's at home, staring at the computer screen. Oh well, the grass is always greener.
Anyway, we're going out tonight for sushi, so I'm saving space for it and not eating today. Just had a small skinny cappuccino and two sugar-free cranberry Ricola drops. There's fat-free Activia in the fridge. And that would be it.
I can't stop thinking about food. I dream of salted caramel ice-cream, chocolate brownies and fish and chips. When I close my eyes, I see cupcakes, blue cheese and paella. I'll indulge myself this weekend and have something I crave. Not a lot, mind. Control is key.

Fear not, my love, for the scales does not bite.

I had a mild scale-o-phobia last night and it kept me awake until 1am (which wasn't good, as I had to get up at 5am). I thought I'd be heavier after the feast at the pub opening.
I am pleased to inform you that I was wrong.
According to my calculations, I devoured around 900 kcals yesterday - hardly a binge, but I still felt bad about myself. I know I should be less controlling, I know I should let myself go once in a while, but it's not that easy.
Oh, and I had my eyes tested yesterday. 20/20 vision, apparently. That's good news.
Plans for today include a walk at lunchtime (it's a lovely day and the area I work in is great for walks), gym after work and watching another two or three episodes of "Supersize v Superskinny". A very interesting show, that. What puzzles me is that adult people don't know a thing about their bodies and are genuinely shocked when the doctor tells them their bones would get brittle from malnourishment or their veins will get clogged if they overindulge. Isn't it something that they teach in schools?
No? Oh well, perhaps they should.

Total failure.

That's how she feels now. Full of food (just some cereal for breakfast and natural yoghurt for lunch, then 9 chips, a piece of fried fish, one pound-coin sized, greasy puff pastry with tomato and cheese plus a mini burger) and wine (just one glass, but that was enough, as she hardly ever drinks at all). All because of a gastro-pub opening. She used to love those events; she dreads them now, she despises herself after each of them more and more.
She sets her limit to 300 for tomorrow. She'll make up for the gluttony and the lack of control. Friday is Liquid Day again. And then she's alone all weekend, so she can give up food entirely. No-one will be there to watch.
A sigh of relief.

Memories

I remember going shopping and finding those fantastic, grungy, brown corduroy trousers in a tiny size. They almost fit. I asked the saleswoman if she could hold them for me for a week. She agreed, even though she didn't seem too pleased.
A week later, I went back to the store and tried the trousers on. They were a perfect fit.
Two weeks later, they were a bit loose around the hips.
I have no idea why I just remembered the trousers now. Perhaps because I'm close to losing motivation, thinking that I can't do it. Is it my mind, reminding me that I did it before, so I can do it again?
Thanks, mind. I needed it.
Down to 129.8. I just had breakfast (slice of Ryvita with light cream cheese), and I'm now sipping my coffee (black, of course) from an industrial-sized mug. Plans for the day include going for a little shopping trip (need to find new wallet - not enough space for cards in the old one), spending some quality time at the gym and watching football. Oh, and did I mention not eating? Yes, that too.

Still not moving.

My body's holding on to every pound now - it's at its happy weight, one that's easy for it to maintain. Despite my liquid day yesterday and only around 400 kcals consumed, the scale didn't budge. I'm thinking of some more drastic actions now. Next weekend: saltwater flush.
If I go to bed not feeling hungry, I feel like a failure. My stomach's grumbling is my favourite lullaby.

Lo and behold.

I hereby announce that Friday is going to be my Liquid Day.
Somehow I haven't eaten anything solid today. I started with a glass of orange juice (because it's good to have a healthy, hearty breakfast, isn't it?) and then had another one around 11pm. Lunch was Starbucks light mocha frappucino (144 kcals - what's not to like?) and dinner will be green tea. Lots of green tea; I'm very, very hungry today and if I don't fill my stomach with something - ANYTHING - I might binge.
Or at least have a sandwich or something.
If I'm going out on Friday, I'll move Liquid Day to Thursday. Or just avoid eating when out and stick to drinking.
And apart from food-related matters, I was supposed to get a new phone today, but the lovey people at my mobile phone company told me that I need to wait until September, unless I'm happy to pay £150. Needless to say, I wasn't happy. I found another mobile company who told me they'd love me to be their customer. If my loyalty is not appreciated, I just stop being loyal.
So, a new phone on Monday. Can't wait. I'm torn between selling the old (rubbish) one and smashing it on the ground. I never liked it, to be honest.

Anticipation and fear

Looking forward to:
- the weekend
- my birthday
- mini-break in Cornwall in August that was supposed to be a surprise
- our trip to Barcelona in September
Afraid of:
- all the food accompanying the above
Let me get this straight: I'm not anorexic or wannarexic. I want to be skinny, yes, but I'm not willing to lose my hair and my teeth and grow lanugo all over my body and become weak and apathetic. That said, my relationship with food is that of desire and fear at the same time. I love food, but I know how dangerous it is for me. I know how tempting it is and how easily I could slip into the habit of eating more than I actually need. I can't avoid places and situations in which I'm expected to eat. Instead, I fast through the day and only eat the one meal I'm expected to, sticking to lesser evil: grilled chicken, poached fish, steamed veg. I try not to play with food on my plate too much - it could raise suspicion and suspicion is the last thing I want. Most of the time, the people around me are so immersed in conversation that they don't even notice the fact that I've only eaten hal of what was on my plate.
So, it's not that bad.
My partner is the worst one to eat with. He's too observant, too inquisitive. Sometimes I think I made a mistake when I told him about my problems with food in the past. I thought he'll protect me from all this, I hoped he'll stop it from coming back.
Or have I?
By the way, I'm 130.7 today. So, still down. Slowly, far too slowly to my liking, but down.

Sometimes she wouldn't mind being left alone

For a few days. Or weeks, maybe. She could then launch her master plan and not worry about suspicions.
She's sure he knows. She pretends to be on a "normal" diet, so she has to eat sometimes. She tells him she can't eat in the evening, that it's all part of her plan. To make it more believable, she stuffs a forkful of risotto she's cooking into her mouth when he's watching. Then she puts some of it away - "for lunch". Most of it will land in the rubbish bin anyway, her lunch today will be air. She hates wasting food, but she hates being fat more.
She went to the gym yesterday - good to be back. She's going again this morning. What's the point in sitting at home and doing nothing in particular? Why should she choose staring blankly at the computer screen, if she can stare at the treadmill screen?
No loss today, but no gain either. She wasn't hungry enough when she went to bed. But that will change today. She'll see to it.

Tell me why I don't like Mondays?

Well, having to go to work may be one of the reasons. Or having to get up at 5am. Or the combination of these two factors.
Still, if every Monday starts like today, I'm ready and willing to like them!
And it started with 131.6 lbs on the scale. Lighter today that I was yesterday? You got it! Not too bad a start, considering the fact that my weekend was unusually sedentary. I can't wait to see the results of calorie restricting + my usual amount of physical activity. I'm a bit wary that I might feel more hungry today - after all, I cycled 10.5 miles in the morning (home to work) and I still have my return journey and the gym ahead of me, but I think if I stick to 1000 kcals, I should be fine.
Speaking of bikes, I have three long rides to look forward to in July. Two of them are routes I already know (the exhausting, but very scenic London to Brighton and the more relaxed London to Cambridge), but the third one is going to be extreme: a 120-mile ride to the coast. Not extreme enough? Oh, I didn't mention we'll be riding at night. I'm so excited I can barely think of anything else now. I've never done such an epic ride before, but I know - I just KNOW - I can make it.

Good things come to those who stick to the plan.

At least that's true in my case.
I did have brunch (smoked salmon omelette - around 370 kcals) and a glass of fresh orange juice (no sugar or other nasties, 55 kcals). Bah, I even humoured my friends and ate a little pistachio macaron (which was roughly 80 kcals) - and yes, it was delicious. Back home, I had lots of water and green tea. I wanted to exercise a little, but I seem to have lost my favourite workout DVD, so I went for a walk by the river instead.
I had a minor scales fear this morning. Turns out I shouldn't have - it showed 132.7. So far, so good.
Breakfast was a mock-scrambled egg (instead of frying, I put it in a bowl over a pan of boiling water - takes a bit longer, but tastes just as good), a slice of Ryvita with some half-fat cream cheese and an industrial sized mug of black coffee. Did I mention how much I love my mug? No? Well, I do.
Shopping was a total failure yesterday. The shoes I liked were either too expensive (£720 for a pair of shoes, anyone?) or they didn't have my size, so I decided to leave it for now. No point buying something you don't even like. I didn't even look ad dresses - I'll reward myself with one when I'm 120 lbs. That should keep me motivated. Sophie, I think I know what you mean by saying you only buy yourself things when you feel like you deserve them.

An early birthday gift

So tomorrow wasn't supposed to be a fast day, but somehow it was. And you know what? The scales says 133.5 today. A good start indeed!
I'm going to eat today - got an invitation to a brunch menu launch in a fabulous restaurant and, being me, I couldn't refuse. The brunch is at 12:30 and it will be my only meal today. It's convenient that I don't like tomato juice - I'll skip the Bloody Marys and stick to water. That should save me some calories.
After brunch, I'm planning some shopping, since the restaurant is in one of my favourite shopping areas ever. I need shoes and a dress for my birthday next month. I'd like to get both today (I don't have time for shopping very often), but now I'm wondering if I should perhaps put buying the dress on hold. Who knows, maybe I'll need a smaller size?
Got myself an early birthday present yesterday: I finally signed up for a gym membership. I haven't been anywhere near a gym for almost 2 years now and despite having plenty of physical exercise (22 miles cycling every day Monday to Friday, 50 or 60-mile long weekend rides), I miss it. So, back to the gym tomorrow. I'm as excited as a kid before Christmas!

Used to be Miss Piggy, gonna be Miss Twiggy

Yes, I did have weight problems when I was a kid.
I was fat. Not chubby, not plump, but fat. I remember the moment I realized it: my class was going for a walk and the kids were chatting about how much they weighed. 55 pounds, said one girl. 62, said another. 61, one of the boys chimed in. I was silent; I didn't want them to ask me. But they did.
I was 107 pounds then. I wouldn't mind being 107 pounds now. But at that time, I was only 8 years old.
This should have woken me up. This should have been enough to stop me from overeating. But it didn't - and things went from bad to worse. By the time I turned 14, I was almost 170 pounds.
If you think children are sweet, innocent creatures, let me enlighten you: they're not. They're brutally honest, cruel and unaware of the consequences of what they say or do. They mock you, they call you names, they have no mercy on you if you're different. I should know that; I experienced it first-hand.
Then, one summer, my brother fell ill. What seemed to be an infection turned out to be a brain tumour that required immediate surgery or my brother would have died. He was taken to a hospital 250 miles from where we lived and my mum and dad both went with him. My sister and I stayed home with nan. The whole situation was so nerve-wrecking that I was unable to eat and, surprisingly, nan didn't force me to eat either. I think she wass pretty stressed and scared herself.
I didn't realize that I'd been losing weight until one of my friends noticed it. It was pleasing to hear something good about how I looked for a change. Encouraged by the comment, I started restricting. Soon I was eating around 300 calories a day. Sure, my hair was falling out, my skin became dry and horrid to the touch and my period vanished, but I was slim for once. So slim that when I went to visit my brother in the hospital and my mum saw me, she was terrified.
Long story short, a few months later my family was reunited again and as soon as my brother's started to show signs of recovery, my mum turned her eyes on me and began to gradually convince me that food was good and eating was not a crime. It took a while for me to believe her, but eventually I did.
However, my relationship with food was never "normal" and "healthy" again. I had periods of severe restricting, followed by what I thought was "normal" eating (and what other people perceived as being fussy with food), followed by enjoying food too much. Needless to say, my weight fluctuated a lot, too.
At the moment, it's a shameful 136 pounds.
But I'm working on it. Silently, secretly.

Being an adult changes things.

You have a job, you have friends, you have your own flat. You're finally in control of your own life and no-one can tell you what to do. You don't have to constantly be on your toes. You can do whatever you like - and eat whatever you like.
Then you realize you've let yourself go. The skirt that was a little too big a year ago is suddenly almost too small. There are parts of your body that you wouldn't even look at if you had the choice. But somehow you can't stop looking. And you make a decision.
Because you can make your own decisions now. You can eat whatever you like... or choose not to eat whenever you like.
Your boyfriend wouldn't be happy about it and you know that. He thinks you look good in your British size 8. He wants you healthy and feminine. He knows your little secret (and you can't help but think that perhaps you shouldn't have told him). But he won't find out. You'll make sure he won't.
After all, you know how to lie. You went through it before, only then, over 10 years ago, it was harder. Deep down inside you knew that it will catch up with you eventually. You knew it from the start.