Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The Gloves Come Off
Today we stuck to the stupid diet; which was harder than I figured. This was probably due to the fact that in anticipation of starvation, we have spent the last week, eating out; and neither of us was ordering the salad. Although there was token greenery, we race down the full carnivore path into cow/sheep/pig land with a love of pastas and cheeses on the side.
The only exercise we indulged in was the walk from the car to the next restaurant and then whatever calories were consumed in passing bread across the table and a fair amount of laughing. This routine has been followed by us flopping on to the sofa in the evening where we proceed to shove something else down our throats. For me, this is wine. For the Squeeze, this comes in the form of Twisties.
So suffice to say that our stomachs have stretched to the point where we should be wearing a moo to work. I did the dash to the wardrobe three times this morning. Pants and a top until I saw myself in the mirror; changed the pants – no better (yes, you guessed it, it isn’t the pants that is the problem); then into the modern ‘moo’; a wrap dress.
Well day one is down. And the gloves are off when it comes to blubber. Actually, the gloves are on. After work, we walked to a boxing club in Oakleigh (we are talking a “Million Dollar Baby” style gym here; not a single piece of lycra was in sight) and discussed our try out for tomorrow night.
I can’t wait to step into the ring with the Squeeze…
Posted by Mistress at 10:02 PM