Pushing the big 3-0

No, I haven't lost my marbles - I know quite well that I'm already edging from my early 30's to my mid-30's (transition will take place in August) in terms of age. I'm not one of those girls that is turning 29 for the fifth time...the pushing 30 I'm referring to actually has less to do with birth and more to do with girth.

That's right - I've lost 28 lbs so far, and this weekend I'm crossing my fingers that I'll eek over into the 30's.

It's been a long process, started in October, really. But slow and steady is going to win me this race (marathon or Ironman triathalon, more like it) so I'm taking every bit in stride and focusing on where I am as opposed to how long it took me to get here.

It's funny, people are starting to notice, and that's rather cool I must say. And notice they should - I've rid myself of the equivalent of almost three bags of potatoes. That seems pretty substantial to me!!

So I'm trying to be super good this week in an effort to slide gracefully into my 30's. And it's damned hard.

I'm starving right now. Honestly. You'd think that with all my reserves my substantial body would have fuel to burn but alas, tis not the case. I could eat my own foot right now...and I freakin hate feet. Blech.

To top it all off, I'm on insulin in the evenings as I've mentioned, and we're still in the process of trying to find the right dosage. Which means I'm all over the map during the day as we get this whole thing sorted out. I'm cranky, irritable, dizzy, sleepy, dopey...pretty much all of the seven dwarfs wrapped up into one. Makes me a real treat to be around, I'm sure!

And all this on the one day that Hubs can't pick me up from the GO station after work. Sniff. He's in London and won't be home until around 8pm, so I have to, gulp, take the bus. Boo hoo hoo for me.

Wow, that was quite a detour I took us on...hmmm.

Back to losing weight.

The funniest thing I'm finding as people are starting to notice the change is the question 'what are you doing?' The sarcastic bitch in me wants to say I imported a tapeworm from South America or that I joined a very controlling cult but you simply can't spout retorts of that kind in civilized company.

So I roll out my standard, pat answer - just eating better, that kinda thing. 'Cause it is the truth. No, I didn't have gastric bypass surgery (as tempting as it often seems) and I don't have one of those bands on my stomach. I haven't joined Weight Watchers or Jenny or LA Weightloss, despite the fact that I know many women who have and have achieved remarkable success.

I'm just not a meetings kinda gal.

No, for me, if I'm going to do this, I have to do it my way. And that means being as good as I can, but not all out depriving myself of everything either. I figure that it has to be a serious lifestyle change and not a diet. I'm not ON a diet, but I have altered my diet. There's a huuuuuuuge difference in my book.

So there you go. I suppose I'm blogging all of this to remind myself to be good and to avoid the temptation of running to my colleague Wendy's office and helping myself to her endless supply of Snickers bars, left over from an event a while ago. And since I know at least one other colleague reads this on a semi-regular basis (howdy, Camilla), there will be at least one person who can hold me to this new regime - hell, one person to hold me back as I bolt for Wendy's office.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?