So yesterday some druids danced naked around some stones, the neighbours kid dressed up like a tiny gay pirate and the sun started setting just after lunch. I spent the day slow-cooking the tastiest bits of a dead baby lamb, soaking in a bath and then wearing deeply attractive trackpants. Also watched Grand Canyon (3.5 stars).

The long nights, the cold, the general malaise: all combine to create the perfect storm that leads to my arse once again resembling the back of a black cab. And while there is nothing wrong with the occasional Sunday spent prone on the sofa, my efforts since July have left me restless and antsy if I don’t move myself with purpose a few times a week (nb: this makes me feel quite smug and healthy though very wary of sounding like a born-again wanker). Also I had pitta bread and taramasalata for lunch yesterday. Which in of itself is no great shakes, but I can feel myself returning to comfort foods becasue its cold and rainy and not because its what I actually want to eat. And I am still very aware that I am not even halfway to my goal weight; it could all go either way right now (suddenly feeling a smidge less smug).

I know that deprivation and concentrating on the negative (shouldn’t/can’t/haven’t) makes me want an entire tub of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food in rebellion. What does work for me is revelling in the crazy high from post-run endorphins and enjoying the preparation and eating of unprocessed food. Everything just feels better. Also clicking through this site at the gorgeous (and a little bit slutty) knickers that will adorn my curves before long has a wildly motivational effect.

I said white rabbits this morning. What could go wrong?

Update: thanks to Phil I have signed up for a 5km run through Richmond Park in three weeks! Its for a charity called Postive East who work to improve the health, wellbeing & independence of individuals & communities affected by HIV in East London.

You can sponsor me if you are so inclined :)

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