Kiki's diet diary

So here I am. With clammy hands on the scale. Eyes half squinted, waiting for the line that will change into a number at any moment. Seconds seem to last minutes. I look away. “I swear to you, friend, if nothing happens in those two weeks I will go crazy, you know that?” I can still hear myself saying it. my personal trainer say.

“Of course something has happened, Kiek. Just stay still for a moment now.” He looks at the values on the scale and I see his eyes get a little bigger. “What? Steve? Hallooohooo? Is this good?” Like a small child, I stare at him. He scribbles down the numbers, compares them with the numbers from two weeks ago and raises his hand for a high five. “You're doing great! 2.5 kilos off!”

It's just that my body isn't ready for a split yet, but in my head, I'm making it a spectacular one. With a flip afterwards. My body fat percentage has decreased by 3 percent. 3 percent (!) of Kiki fat has dissolved. Where to? No idea. But as far as I'm concerned, they can stay there. Nothing is more motivating than results. And maybe I'm the only idiot, but I always compare kilos to packs of milk. Just imagine having to carry an extra 2.5 packs of milk every day, and now you don't have to anymore. Also quitting smoking (19 days now) is going well apart from a grumpy attack here and there, purrrima. Better than I expected actually.

And no, I can pretend that it's all a piece of cake, but that's bullshit. Especially now that it's starting to get colder, I really don't feel like going out to exercise after work. I crave TRUFFLE PASTA. But okay, the switch is flipped, so strangely enough, I'm going. And when I get home, I'm bursting with energy and almost staring high at the ceiling. I suddenly feel like writing a book, with legs that can hardly stay still in bed and a focus that's almost scary. Wait a minute... Is this what they mean by that substance that makes you happy?

Besides: I'm cooking. My pans are a bit shocked by it too, but yes, so am I. I catch myself doing silly things. Googling things like: ‘where is your hamstring?’, ‘what are protein-rich products’ and ‘what does muscle soreness mean?’, only to look disgusted when I find out that they are small tears. Well, you get it: Project Fitgirl is still in full swing. With a thousand thanks to Steve from Book Your Trainer, the drill sergeant who helps me reach my goal. Although I sometimes hate him too, when he makes me run through that gym like a sweating otter, haha. We're doing great, friend!