Oh dear, it happened. I fell off the wagon and into a trough of triple cream brie (and chocolate and wine). Okay, so there are worse things to fall off a metaphoric wagon into (mud and cow poo come to mind), but in case you’re caught up in the imagery, I’ll spell it out. People, I stopped exercising and commenced eating everything in sight. My bum got big, again (see stunt bum below). Even the dog flees when he sees me approaching, terrified of becoming some kind of tasty afternoon snack. Yum … Cavoodle on toast!
So, I started the year off all inspired and determined. Project “Look as Hot as Genine” was commenced with gusto (and a million sit ups and burpies). Here are my posts from earlier in the year, “Is it wrong to hate my friend because she’s skinny?” followed by “Diary of a big but soon to be much smaller bum” – I was seriously committed to becoming healthier and hotter.
I stuck to it for many months, I’ll have you know. I watched what I put in my gob. I made myself hit the gym at least four times a week. I reduced my wine intake considerably (the biggest challenge of all). And I lost six kilos. Yay!
But somewhere between my boxing fitness class at the gym and the ice-cream isle at Coles, I lost my way. Seriously. I became super busy – lots of touring and public speaking for Alli & Genine. Lots of really important work to do and blogs to write and magazines to proof. Lots of excuses.
I couldn’t possibly go to the gym today / this week / this month / this year. Do you know how busy and important I am? And for a while, that was okay, I kept eating well so the weight still slowly came off. Until I subconsciously made the decision to start eating like a contestant on Survivor when they get booted off the show and return to the mainland. Let’s just say I have had the munchies for about two to three months now (creamy brie cheese, below, I blame you). Whoops!
I don’t remember the exact point I threw caution to the wind and a Crunchie in my mouth, but I am back to my old ways. Too many sweet treats. Too much wine. And too many “I couldn’t possibly find time to exercise” moments.
And the result? Well, while I haven’t been brave (or stupid) enough to step back onto the scales, for fear that I have put on each and every gram I worked so hard to lose, I can tell you there’s definitely more junk in my trunk (damn you, muffin top) than there was a few months ago.
Time to get back on the horse (or the wagon or whatever I’m supposed to get back onto) and head straight to the gym. It’s also time to rid my house of delicious chocolate treats, creamy, creamy cheese and wine. (Insert sad face here.) PS. Winter doesn’t help, damn you winter.
Why now? What has inspired me to pick up “Project Look as Hot as Genine” where I left off? Three words – my school reunion. Yep, my 20 year (boy I’m old) school reunion is just around the corner. And unfortunately, given I have written a blog and book about my dysfunctional life and many, many messed up issues, I can’t rock up to said reunion and pretend I have it all together and a million dollars in the bank. Sadly, they will call “bullshit” on my Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion-like claims of inventing important things like Post-It Notes (and yes, I completely plan to wear a dress JUST like the ones the girls are wearing above). Instead, we wear Post-It Notes … embarrassing! (Yep, that’s us in our Post-It wearing glory below on our book cover.)
So, if I can’t be the most together and successful in the room, I will try my hardest to at least look good in a pair of jeans. I know, it sounds pathetic, but who wouldn’t want to look good at their 20 year school reunion?
Wish me luck! The hell starts tomorrow (because you just can’t start a diet / fitness regime on a Friday, can you?).