Gym and swim, but still not trim

A very big thank you first for the lovely comments on the two posts about my Mollie Project - I wasn't sure you were going to find it all that interesting, but wanted to record something which has meant a great deal to me over the past 4 years.

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I've been to the gym three times a week in the past fortnight, a couple of times with the trainer - and I can appreciate now why it's important that he tells me how far to push myself.

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I got over-confident on one of the occasions when I was on my own, and overdid it on the treadmill, which left me too exhausted to do some of the other machines. I realise that with a weed such as I, it's essential that I work all the muscles equally and build up gradually. He showed me on my record how much I'd improved in just a fortnight, and I must admit to feeling sneakily pleased.

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Last Sunday we went swimming in the afternoon - excellent timing, as people evidently have better things to do on Sundays. I was able to get a cordoned off lane to myself, and with my minimum-effort style version of the breast stroke, managed 40 lengths. No, don't even start to feel impressed, this took me a whole hour, and I stank of chlorine for 24 hours afterwards. The swimming itself was reasonably pleasant as the water was calm, but - oh the boredom!

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I'm swimming once a week, sometimes twice - and when a friend swims with me it's easier, even though we're not the sort of swimmers who feel compelled to chat about everything under the sun as they go along, at half the speed of even yours truly.

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Overheard last Sunday in the pool: Woman A: "I've got a wasps' nest in my garden - that's the third this summer. Really expensive to have them removed professionally..." Woman B: "Why don't you buy some of that powder you can put on the nest? Save yourself some money"... Woman A: "Ooh no, don't want to do that - you might not kill them all and then they'll sting you and give you apoplectic shock..."

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Yesterday there was a guy doing widths at the deep end - long hair, singing rock songs at full bore... But on the whole there's little to keep you amused as you plough up and down.

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Well?? I hear you ask - well?? how much did you lose then??

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Put the bunting away and sit down - I lost one miserable, bloody, cotton-picking pound, plus my temper. It wasn't just my pride that was hurt, but also one of my toes when I stubbed it against the bathroom scales. I bet it didn't even feel it either.

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Restriction is hardly there - why, when I'm on 9ml? I've only got 1ml left, and then what? I'm visiting Taunton next Wednesday, when I shall definitely need a fill. I've started to feel hungry more often and need a bit more help.

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-oOo-