Wake-Up Call Number 43

Hmmm. I've just had a big wake-up call from complacency. Bigger than anything that Gillian McKeith could recommend in her advice that you keep a food diary for 7 days and then all the wrappings from various products and stuff it all into a box and then look at it and reflect on your diet. Well, I didn't need that.

Just when I was starting to feel good about myself, in spite of sitting next to my sister in a bikini (partly thanks to the fact that I have been wearing a body-covering costume), I get a jolt to the system. Just got off the phone to Michael and decided to WhatsApp him a picture of the pool, and had a look at the one that Anthea took (don't know why I can't get that name fixed into my head very well) and there it was... sudden realisation. I mean, I have heard that the camera puts on a stone/half a stone? But this.... This was monstrous. Me, Faye, Brandon, with me on the end. Oh my word. None of those photos will be going anywhere near Michael, or Facebook or anyone. Except I will WhatsApp it to Claire and get her to commiserate with me in my pain. Whoah. I'm actually hungry but I've decided to forego my intended snack in the hope that it might make some difference.

I honestly don't remember the last time I saw myself looking so round, almost perfectly round. I was starting to be under the illusion that I was looking a bit Marilyn Monroe-like, in my polka dot swimming costume and my almost larger than life curves. Turns out that is not the case. I am beyond curvey. I am plump, very plump, in that picture. I hate it.

So. Salads ahoy for the rest of the week and pass me the agua con gas. I will be boycotting any sneaky glasses of red wine (ooh, only one. Can't do any harm) and I will be gravitating towards calorie-free activities and food items.

Actually, to be fair it hasn't been that hard. The sun has helped. I'm too hot to be hungry. And I'm also – thankfully – too lazy. I was at the pool and I was pretty hungry, but the sun was on my shins and I was reclined under an umbrella. In fact, in spite of the swimming, I doubt I will be burning off many calories in my day-to-day existence at the moment. That's the other danger.

But I've been pretty good on the salad front and today my digestive system even saw a piece of fruit. A plum. When did I last have one of those? 1997? Probably not that recently. And I had another salad today, AND with less cheese. My portion at the meal last night was almost pitiably small, too. And I've had a decent breakfast (two boiled eggs, bit of salt) and no naughtiness today, apart from a bit of sugar-free gaseosa in my fruit juice. But alas, I feel that it won't be enough and I fear that I will have to embark on a serious programme of yoga, stomach planks and walking up and down that hill. Sigh. I haven't yet overcome my personal and rather insistent rebellion against exercise. Although a friend's dad does say that food is the main thing/concern and he's in a pretty permanent state of hunger all of the time. Doesn't sound that appealing to me.

Yes, all the foods I most enjoy are poison and especially to one who is, in all likeliness, a star candidate for candida and Type II diabetes. And with an autoimmune disease thrown in (Hashimotos) the chances start to triple.

So. The battle against my sugary friends must continue. Think Lord of the Rings, second film. Gandalf here I come.