A .6kg (1.3lb) gain today. Entirely to be expected, even if it wasn't Water Retention Week at Chez Tree.

There's a variety of reasons for this gain, but I think Kimba and Airlie's comments on my last entry were spot on.

I am pushing the boundaries, I am testing my limits. I want to know how much I can 'get away with' before the scales leap out from behind the curtains and yell, "Busted!"

Apparently, I can't get away with what I've been doing. Which is not surprising, considering how excessive it was (e.g. an all day drinking session, eating half a family-sized seafood pizza, random choc attacks, rich restaurant food, Baskin Robbins, several days of not exercising). I actually ate worse and exercised less over the last week than I did over the week of Christmas.

So the gain is not a shock, nor is it a disappointment. It's what I can expect for doing what I did. And that's OK. I take full responsibility for that and I declare it done.

Of course, my emotions are at the root of all my binges and bad eating habits. And I'm on a little bit of a down cycle at the moment (hence less frequent postings). Not full-blown depression again, but, as my husband described it, not my sparkly best.

But that is no excuse. Even on my blackest days and weeks, I could eat well, track, drink my water and exercise.

So last week is history. This week is fresh and shiny and new and I'm going to make it a great week (this morning's raspberry friand incident notwithstanding).

I'm really focusing in on my exercise, as the heat has robbed me of some walking motivation. When it's stinking hot even at 6am or 9pm, it's really hard to find the will to walk. I need to find something else, and there is a pool less than a minute's walk from home. So I took a big step today.

A really big step.

I bought my first pair of bathers in over 10 years.

It was revelatory. Usually, buying bathers is a traumatic experience unequalled in our society. All that bare, pale flesh, the teensy bit of lycra, the unforgiving mirror and the harsh reality of the change room lights. Sure, I had all of that, but the revelation was in the fact that I had over a dozen outfits in the change room with me and I was making my choices based on things like price or colour or cut. For once, my choices weren't limited by size.

Sure, I wanted to punch the lights out of the woman in the change room next to me who wittered in a disgusted tone, "Oh, no wonder that was so big on me! It's a 14!", but that was the only traumatic part.

Now, don't get too excited, we're not in itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, yellow, polka dot bikini territory yet. It's a practical one piece that will allow diving and vigorous swimming without the girls getting out and about or inadvertent butt flossing. But it's cut nicely and the colour is lovely and I happen to think it looks pretty good (and the husband agrees).

I'm hoping that I can take it on its maiden voyage tomorrow, after a bit of deforestation at the beautician's first. It's one thing to inflict my pale legs on an unsuspecting public, but when they're pale AND furry, then I'm sure I'm breaching one Geneva convention or another.

One last thing. As I was standing in the queue to pay for my WW meeting today, there was a new member puzzling over whether to buy the Points Guide or the Supermarket Guide. I nudged her and told her that in my experience, I found the Points Guide more useful. She thanked me and asked how I was doing. I told her how much I'd lost since last February and she seemed stunned. She told me that I must be close to goal. I said I was about 8 or so kilos away and she seemed stunned by that too. Then she paid for her books and wandered off.

As I paid for my meeting, she came up to me again.

"Do they have inspirational buddies at Weight Watchers?" she asked.
"Er, I guess not. Why?"
"Because I want you to be mine."

Awww, shucks.