Eat less, exercise more. Exercise more, fall on the floor.

Yes, when I’m not bitching about SPN or calling people out for being stupid and senseless OR quietly appreciating Tom Hardy for his looks and not pretending that he’s God’s gift to earth, I am a real person who does real people things.


Like many people, I’ve been on a diet/working out for what feels like years. Of course, like many people, I wasn’t really taking it seriously. Sure, I’d walk instead of taking the bus every once in a while, or hop on a treadmill. Do some stretches. Eat a salad or two and then expect that to magically work while I go back to eating junk.

Obviously, my weight didn’t change and I still looked the same. At least I think it did because I had a rather heated argument with my scale and refused hang out with it. The argument was along the lines of my weight never changing. That in itself wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because when I did eventually lose weight, I was overjoyed. Too overjoyed and also very, very stressed out. My main thought was ‘NOW I CAN EAT WHAT I WAAAAANT!’ because that’s the whole point of this dieting thing, right? (Nope!) So despite the fact that it took me a long, long time to actually lose weight, I went food crazy. All the stuff I cut out came back here and there. I started watching the Food Network (in hindsight, this probably wasn’t a good idea).

In the midst of all of this, Easter happened and chocolate was thrown back into the mix. I gave it up for Lent but kept forgetting so I had a nice little stash and I went to freaking town on it. I think my lowest point came when I bought a tub of the most disgusting ice cream ever and ate the majority of it at once.


It was a sad day. While all of this was happening, I didn’t really do much exercise. And when I did, it was stuff that I probably should have eased myself into. So it was just an unhealthy couple of months overall (caused by a few other things but that’s neither here nor there). After the ice cream incident, I weighed myself again and realised that I’d put the weight back on, plus a little more I wasn’t really surprised but it wasn’t nice to see.

Bizarrely enough, losing it wasn’t that difficult. It was really strange. I did cut out a lot of the junk because I was seriously out of control. I was in Sam Winchester cake mode – acting like I’d never seen cake before. I didn’t really do much exercise because I hadn’t for so long that I couldn’t really motivate myself. All I really did was cut down on everything and stop drinking orange juice (so long, Vitamin C!) and eased myself back onto a treadmill like once a week and I managed to lose more weight than I had in the first place. HOW ANNOYING IS THAT? Now I’m exercising more regularly and still at the same point.


Okay, so I have sorted of slipped up junk wise.


And, exercising is sort of hit and miss. Every single post I read usually has words like, ‘simple’ and ‘easy’ in them in regards to stretches and so on and I’m convinced that all of these people are lying to me. Sure, the stretches are physically simple and easy but MENTALLY, it takes a lot to actually motivate yourself to twist your body in ways that’ll ensure that you feel some form of pain the next day. I don’t know what normal endorphins being released feel like, but clearly I haven’t felt it. Yelling obscenities at myself in my head probably isn’t healthy but that’s sometimes the only way to motivate myself. The only thing less appealing than exercising at this point is watching Supernatural. I hate it. Haaaaaaaaate it.

But it is a necessary evil and I shall continue to strive to reach my targets. Grudgingly.

In conclusion:

  • Dieting and exercise suck, but they’re good for you at the end of the day.
  • I have no self-control
  • This is a completely random post but I’m hoping that my self-snark will kick my butt into gear. It probably won’t. 




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