So, on Saturday morning, two days later than planned, I went back to Fat Club.
It was a blow to my pride. I had thought, or rather, hoped, that I was in a good enough place to do this under my own steam without the ritual humiliation of getting weighed by someone else (and I do find it humiliating, even if that is not the intention). But if the last few years have taught me anything it is that there is nothing wrong with asking for a bit of help, so, with a deep breath and a girding of the loins, I entered.
And I am so glad I did. It was the nicest meeting I have yet been to.
The weigh in was far less painful than expected – even fully dressed I was still over a stone down from the start of the year, and I am glad that I dragged myself back before I regressed past that milestone.
Current mood: cautiously optimistic.