shhh... don't scare the whoosh
Drum roll please: the skinny trousers are a little less tight than they were! I think we're about a week away from sitting with crotch comfort. There has, clearly, been a tiny degree of whooshing going on. As I said with infinite sadness to the husband: two glasses of wine a week equals weight loss. It's a bit like the old gag:
Wife: do these trousers make my arse look big?
Husband: no dear, it's the cakes and pies that do that.
B: two eggs scrambled with a drop of cream, bacon, Greek yoghurt (why go into the kitchen with one breakfast when you can have two?)
L: hotdog sausage, six cherry tomatoes, a strawberry (at the first twins birthday party of the day, at which husband ate the pies; at the second twins birthday party I declined all food and husband took a slice of cake for the team as his arse is boney)
D: beef stirfried with broc, celery, onion, carrot, brussels, coconut milk, lime, coriander and sweet (yes, the 20% rule) chili sauce. Man and boy had noodles, pineapple and cashew nuts added to theirs.
And there we have it. Fitday makes it less - by a hair - than 2000 calories and this is probably the first weekend I've had such good compliance with deficits and no alcohol. Working is always easier as I only eat what I take with me.
Next week I hope for more whooshing to be had - hurrah.
self-sabotage thy name is stilton
L: stilton - loads (it was going begging on the table at work), 4 almonds (ditto), beef stirfry
D: tuna, salsa, sour cream
exercise 1hr 45 mins walking, some free weights (about ten mins with 5kg hand weights because I am a weakling)
Goddamn stilton. Fitday gave me quite a shock and instant regret. Never mind. I know better now. Tomorrow is another, better, day.