Ah well

I put a couple of pounds on over the weekend, I knew I would, and in a way I'm glad. What I don't want this journey to be is denying myself everything that's fun and getting into a regimented, overly restrictive way of life. I want to be able to enjoy myself from time to time, and have some time off. So, I did what I wanted in Budapest. I ate cake. Boy, did I eat cake. And ice cream. And I drank beer. Oh yes, wouldn't you, at 60p a pint?

And I feel good. I know I can get it off again, so why stress about it. I'm going to enjoy life as it passes me by, and not get too hung up on some little figures. My new trousers still fit great, there was so much slack in the seatbelt on the plane compared to normal, and I had a great weekend.

And I'll get back down to business tomorrow.

Edit. When I say tomorrow, I do of course mean today. I had a lovely roast pepper salad and then went out for a bit of a jog. I was quite pleased with myself, I've not tried to run since I hurt my foot a couple of weeks back, and didn't know whether I'd be able to do it. I also usually run on the treadmill at the gym rather than outside in the open air. The last time I tried to run outside was probably last July, shortly before I joined the gym. Anyway, today I managed to run all the way to the park, and I walked back. before, I'd get a third or half the way there at the most. I have run further than that in the gym before now, but I wanted to take it relatively easy on my foot until I see how it reacts to it. But I'm back, and I'm in the mood for losing.