This one’s for Sabine, my fellow Fitness Ridger (yes, I’m going back, probably in April for one or two weeks).

So, I got weighed on Sunday and I gained 2.5 pounds. Um. Yeah. Two point five freaking pounds. Now, I know most people wouldn’t freak out about that but yanno, I did. I’m not gonna lie. I told my mother, I told my colleagues, I freaked out.

Got my period (sorry for the TMI boys, but this is the way the women roll). Lost 2.9 pounds from Monday morning to this morning. So, despite eating out way (way) more than I should last week, not working out as much as I normally do because I went to see Radiohead and was dog tired for the next three days, and despite having a generally stressful week, I still lost a half a pound.

Which is good, cause you know what I do when I’m stressed, right? Yes kids, I binge. For example, last week I went to a spinning class on Tuesday and lasted a whopping twenty minutes (i didn’t snack in the afternoon and I just bonked). And I ate unremitting crap that night.

Today, I lost it on my new boss’ boss (yes, I actually told someone two pay levels above me that she was making me work late because she was making work that didn’t need to be done at a time when we have way too much work to do already). And tonight, I had english muffins and peanut butter instead of the spaghetti and meat sauce and veg I had in the fridge. Yeah. Not so smart sometimes, am I?

Still, I tried on a pair of size 14 pants yesterday at the Gap and they fit at the hips and waist (though, they looked like crap and I didn’t buy them), so things are going well. I have a colleague who can’t stop staring at me whenever she walks into my office and another one hollered a “holy crap” at me in the hall today. Funny thing is, I can’t actually see that I look any different. Mostly because I still see a lot of belly fat when I look at myself and that’s all I can focus on.

My goal is this: in 8 weeks, I’d like to be 15 pounds lighter. Mark the date: that’s around Thanksgiving. The obstacles in my way are legion: I’m getting my wisdom teeth out next week (which could be a positive, but mostly likely is an excuse to eat ice cream and peanut butter); I’m travelling for 10 days in September (luckily I’m going to places that have Goodlife gyms, so I’m going to try to find one and keep up the classes); and a need to staff a lot of positions quickly (which takes a whole lot of work). It’s the good times.

Work itself is the biggest obstacle. I met my old boss today for a very quick coffee and told him about the Year of Kerry and my trip to Fitness Ridge and my zen attitude. He told me that he sees a fundamental conflict between my desire to work 40 hours a week and go to the gym and eat right and have a life with being a public service executive. Immediately after that I got overwhelmed with extra work at a time when my team is tired and understaffed. Good times.

I have an odd strategy for this though. First: I’m going to religiously go to the gym on Saturday mornings. And on those weeks where I miss more than one weekday workout, I’ll do a kickboxing class and a spinning class to make up for it. That’s what I’ll do this week (I didn’t gym yesterday because I had three fillings replaced and it took… are you ready for this? two freaking hours to finish). It’s a slog, but it’s doable with enough water. Oh, and I signed up for a hip hop class on Sunday afternoons, which is a recovery activity so it doesn’t count against my trips to the gym, but is a good activity in case I miss a day. Walking home from hip hop would be prime, because it’ll be about an hour to get home from there and I’d be in the money for activity. I also have the gym schedules posted next to my desk so I can just flip to it and see when a makeup class could be done. S’all good.

So, yeah. Strategies abound. And, at least one of them will stick. Right? :o)

Full body pictures to come. Apparently that’ll make me see the difference…