Time for a bit of waffle

I lost all illusions (delusions?) of healthy eating the other day when I nommed my way through a sausage butty. And the Tunnock's teacake I just ate. Although to be fair to myself, the only reason I had a GINORMOUS craving for the teacake was because I nearly killed myself at boxfit this morning. It got to the stage where I was telling my muscles to work harder and nothing was happening, they had absolutely no more to give me, and I kept going anyway. I actually thought I was going to fall over when the class finally finished. I suspect I'll have trouble even getting out of bed tomorrow, but the sense of well-being I have right now pre-emptively makes it worth it.

Today I realised that my final assignment is due in four weeks and three days. Then I realised that for one of those weeks I'm going to be at camp and will have absolutely no chance to work on it. Cack! I've got the minimum word count so technically I could just leave it as is and spend that time editing it, but I don't want to. The range is 15,000 to 25,000 words (which is ridiculously wide if you ask me) and it worries me that I might have 10,000 words less than some other people. At the same time it's highly unlikely that I can write a good quality 10,000 words in the three weeks available to me. So I'm aiming for around 18,000 to 20,000 for my final word count. Hopefully a nice balance between quality and quantity.

In other news, I found out the likely date of my graduation today - it's about 19 weeks away. I also found out that THERE WILL BE KILTS!! 

Oh it's going to be a good day.

xXx

HA!

I both love and loathe boxfit. 

I love it because there is absolutely no denying that I've had a good workout by the time I get to the end. It sets me up for a whole day of slobbing because I can't physically move myself any more than I did in that class.

I hate it because so far I've always been the biggest person there and this wee toned instructor keeps yelling at me to "PICK YOUR HEELS UP! LET ME HEAR THOSE PUNCHES!"  I would love to pick my heels up like everyone else, but I'm at least 4 years older and 4 stone heavier than all the skinny twigs around me and my heels just can't handle being up. As to 'hearing the punches', I'm having trouble breathing enough to stay upright, never mind shouting every time I throw a punch.

At least I managed to stay for the whole hour this week. I was ill last time but I still felt a bit feeble for giving up halfway through. It probably helped that I got an incredible breakfast cooked for me this morning. I've made friends with two girls, Rebekah and Lindsay, who live quite near to uni and even though I'm older they seem to have adopted me. So last night I was round at their's and we had lasagne made with cottage cheese (nummy and low fat!) and this morning Lindsay made pancakes, scrambled egg and garlic mushrooms for breakfast. I was stuffed completely full, which is a feeling I haven't really had since coming up to Scotland. I'm feeling like a total scrounger though so I've bought the ingredients to have another go at banana bread. Let's see if I can get it to rise this time and I'll take it round as a thank you.

xXx