In a new weekly feature, Her.ie newbie Liz is going to share her weight loss journey. She'll be filling you in on fighting temptation, her willpower struggles with the cocktail menu and taking painfully slow steps towards regular exercise. All in the name of a dress.
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Hanging on the wall at the end of my bed is the constant reminder I plan on shedding nearly two stone this year. I also plan on marking the trials and tribulations of ‘trying to be good’ – the favourite saying we all tout, and quickly replace when a cake is put in front of us.
Week one: Admitting the festive pudding pounds were unfortunately not just for Christmas
It all started on a shopping trip with a friend. I was meant to be helping her find an outfit, which naturally meant I was walking away with at least a new pair of shoes, when I saw it. Standing there. Calling me. Beautifully cut, with its own quirky feminine twist. That was the day I fell in love.
One slight problem. The zipper didn’t go up. Not even half-way up my back. I’m not going to say I’m obese (I really am not), but I’m what my granny lovingly referred to as ‘hearty’. (Yes, my heart sank when I first heard it too.) I stood in the changing room looking at the reflection.
Turning my back to the mirror for the fifth time, I realised there was no snag, or catch on my bra hook. I had to confess to what I’d already known. I’d put on weight. Not enough that that I expect to star on
Biggest Loser anytime soon, but enough to know it was a downward spiral. Today it was a dress, tomorrow it was shopping for a momo. (That’s a Simpson’s reference for anyone who’s planning on looking it up later).
So I bought it. Not in a larger size or with plans of a trip to the tailors. Sitting across from said friend in a bakery (who admittedly was a little confused considering she heard me shuffling into the ensemble and the sighing under my breath for the zip to ‘come on’, ‘wiggle up’), I had my last indulgent treat (a hot chocolate and lemon meringue tart. They were delicious). So, sugar rush underway, I toddled off home to rid my press of goodies, chocolate and all the delicious e-numbers that wreak havoc on your waistline.
I was doing great, three hours in, when I noticed my eyes darting to the treat stash now hiding out in the press above the fridge (the only press you need to drag a chair over to reach). I got myself a glass of squash and sat back in front of the
House of Cards marathon I had committed to BD (Before Dress). I did well too. I lasted right up until episode three before I treated myself to a glass of wine. (Clearly the wine wasn’t going into a press. I want to lose weight - I’m not crazy).
So here it is. New job, fresh slate. I’ve clocked my actual weight and I’ve set my target for July 1
st - the first day of summer and the perfect excuse to *fingers crossed* wear a cut out dress that’ll work for any occasion.
So *big gulp*, my starting stats are:
Height: 5ft 8
Weight: 174 lbs (Definitely the hardest thing about this entire process was printing that figure)
Goal: 148 lbs
Feeling: Optimistic but very nervous (and now craving a lemon meringue tart)
The Dress in Question:
Image via Zara 
