My crazy plan worked...

...well, mostly.

My plan was always to exercise more and manage my diet. I've always found that with IBS, or IBS-alike, I couldn't eat the healthy foods I have always enjoyed. For example, I haven't eaten spinach in almost seven years; I adore the stuff, can't touch it any more. I just don't digest it any my body works very hard to get rid of it as fast as possible... Yeah, you get the idea with that.

So anyway, I'm still injury free. And on average, over the last two years, I have lost over a pound a month, which is ideal, especially considering the currency's relatively strong presence on international markets. Converted to, say, rupees or the US dollar, I'm actually quite slim.

In real money, I'm still around 220lbs, but so much more of it is muscle and I'm in arguably the best shape of my life. Most of my clothing no longer features an 'X' in its sizing, for example. T-shirts are a 'large'; undercrackers are generally between the two, but they have to accommodate my thighs, so I don't mind and XL in them.

So, it's mostly worked. I feel great and look much better, without really altering my diet, though I am currently experimenting with probiotic supplements to see if they'll help. I've actually eaten my first iron-rich greens in years recently (samphire - I'm assuming it's iron-rich because of its sexy, sexy colour) with no ill effects.

I've also been coaching other people, which is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done. My charges recently completed their first organised race, the Ludlow 12k, which left me filled to burst with pride.

Good times.

If the skirt fits....

It was about twenty years ago, when my mother and I were staying with Wink.  I used to drive her down in her car, then come home by train and my sister would drive her back up and go back by train in her turn.  She didn't like to make the journey alone - alone apart from her dog, that is.

Sometimes I'd stay for a few days, and on this occasion we went shopping.  I saw a skirt I rather liked, longish, silky, black with cream and golden brownish (I'm rubbish with colours) flowers, a size 10 and quite unforgiving, being straight and sleek.  But my mother saw it too and pounced first (she had no idea I was interested myself).  She bought it, which was fine ... but she never wore it.  When she died, ten years later, it still had its label on.  I have no idea why she didn't wear it, or give it to me or Wink instead, but maybe she thought it was a bit young for her? - I don't know.  Anyway, within a few years I'd expanded, so wouldn't have been able to wear it.

We used to exchange clothes sometimes - that is, I don't suppose I passed anything much on to her, but she did to me, she bought rather a lot of clothes.  So Wink and I didn't have any scruples when she died about keeping any of her clothes that we liked, before passing the rest on to the charity shop.  One coat, she's only bought three months earlier for £250, which was a sort of bravado to prove she wasn't really ill and would live long enough to get full wear out of it.  It's lovely, I still wear it and get lots of compliments.

But this skirt has hung in the wardrobe.  And when I lost weight and could wear a size 10 again, it was still too small.  Then, I could do it up but it looked too tight.

Last Thursday, I was going out to dinner.  And I tried on the skirt.  Darlings, it went on easily, did up, I wore a close-fitting top and it looked fine.

Still half a stone to go, though.  But that was pretty damn satisfying.  Makes me feel I'm on the right track.