So what about those four days eating chocolate?
Hell.
Nah, I’m kidding I loved it.
Might be that it was not really the objective, but I have to confess that around 11h, knowing that my slab of Milka was awaiting… wasn’t worrying me, if I might use a euphemism.
However, however, how-e-ver.
I’ve never finished the said slab. And not because I was holding myself back. Just because, after half of it, frankly, it was really losing its appeal. Especially knowing 1) I would have some the next day, 2) two hours later, in case of munchies, I could have a light meal.
As a result, I had a small bread on the first day, a mandarin on the second and a slice of ham on the third as a snack.
There was no fourth one because it was on the same day as a business lunch and I feel not everybody is ready to receive the Zermatian message. In other words, I have a reputation for being an oddball at work, I prefer keeping my experiments for myself, there is such a thing as too much eccentricity in the eyes of my colleagues.
Thus, I slightly distorted the exercise in my opinion, but proof that I’ve had my fill of Milka, since then, no piece has fallen in my stomach and I haven’t missed it at all.
Ok, I slightly moved on to a competitive stomach bug.
But still. Let me remind you that in London there are Cadbury at every corner and I didn’t even think of bringing some back.
And on the scale, what the result?
Almost one kilo less, I would say roughly (I don’t have those scales that give you not only your weight in micrograms but also your body fat percentage, your thigh size and your star sign) 800 grams
Sign, thus, that you can slim down while eating chocolate. That is, as far as I am concerned, the best news from the past ten years. Next to it, discovering temperate lakes on Mars seems to me a vacuity.
In short, that’s it, I progress little by little on a totally new path for me and I admit taking a lot of pleasure in it. I’ve lost almost seven kilos, it means in concrete terms that I’m losing my pants a bit, that heels are less hard to bear during a whole day, that my bras don’t give me the impression anymore that I have breasts in the back too, that I wear a stripped jersey – JPG please – which was a gift ten year ago but was more like a brassiere lately and that I’m that close to zipping a Comptoir Des Cotonniers pants bought without trying it on, on a pure madness day in 1998 more or less (a size 16 that was lost in the shop and I couldn’t leave it behind, too cruel, poor thing others kept making fun of it). What’s nice actually it that this brand always has the same collection each year, almost, so it is roughly identical to the ones you see in their windows today.
I don’t feel happier with 7 kilos less, I’m still in the 7 something, men are not falling for me in the street, mine looks at me with appetite but it was already the case two months ago. On the other hand, I feel better physically, my knee cracks less when I climb stairs and I’m less out of breath when I walk. In bed, it has changed as well, let’s say that the warning light that usually blinks when he reaches the zone between below my breast and my pubis – “stoooooop, don’t touch my belly” – is now mysteriously switched off. And this, this feels great.
Edit: I’m not putting this picture for you tell me I’ve slimmed down, it’s just that sometimes I don’t really know how to illustrate an article, the chocolate slab is now boring and I like this stripped jersey, it’s one of my test clothe, you see.
Edit2: I don’t mean to say that I don’t like being told I’ve slimmed down, like all women it fills me up with happiness inside.
Edit3: Actually, you say what you want, right.
Edit4: the picture was taken with timer, camera sitting on a shelf, it was dark outside. It thus has reasons for being as it is, spare it.
