Today it's exactly a year since C saw my personal ad online and replied to it. I didn't see his email until the morning of April 3rd, and replied to it then.

It feels like a lot longer than a year. It seems like all the things that have happened should have taken a lot longer than a year - emailing and chatting every day; eventually meeting; visiting each other every 2 weeks over the summer; him selling his house and finding an apartment in London; him moving to London; us deciding that we'd rather live together and him moving into my place. And random things I can't fit into the timeline, like him 'coming out' and us discovering freaky & kinky sex. And then there's me starting this job. I need a sit down and a cup of tea just thinking about it...

I am feeling *ptui* about my weight right now. Thing is, it's all coming from inside - I know I'm clinically overweight and I need to do something about it. It's not coming from outside influence - I work with images of beautiful slim girls every day and they don't make me feel bad. I think that's one of the reasons I find it hard to really motivate myself to diet/get fit. It sounds really really bad, but sometimes I wish I had body image 'issues' because then they'd motivate me to do something more extreme about my size. How fucked up is that?

Something else that doesn't really help is C. He gripes about his weight too. He used to be a skinny guy, apparently, and while he's still a totally normal weight now (I'd say he was slim-to-average), he feels fat. It makes me feel bad when he complains about how fat he is because I'm the one who's actually overweight. I also feel bad because he's maintaining his current weight despite eating at least 1 chocolate bar a day, and doing no exercise. I'm gaining weight because I've stopped going to the gym and am eating more-or-less normally.

I lost weight last year, and I can do it again, but only if I stop eating what he does and force myself to go and exercise, with or without him. I'm already serving myself portions that are smaller than his at dinnertime, but that doesn't make a difference - I have to exercise. We like to go eat out, and that's something I can't realistically do. I need to start back on the cottage cheese & Ryvita regimen I was on last year, which is going to be a bitch when he's eating stuff I'd rather eat.

It's not all bad though - C is helping WRT the exercise. He's suggested we learn rock climbing together, which is great - I'm really into working my upper body, and that would be perfect. Only I'm kinda scared of heights, and my upper body is really too weak to lift the rest of me. I suppose doing a beginner's class with him will make me feel better about trying it.

I'm also determined to at least give running a try. My main fear here is that I'll be the fat runner huffing and puffing in the park, who all the other runners laugh at. All the runners I see around where I live all look incredibly fit. Again, having C with me will make me feel less bad. I'm also in extremely bad shape cardio-wise, and I'm not looking forward to those old, familiar, heart-bursting-out-of-my-chest feelings.

I have no idea how much I weigh right now, since I'm no longer a member of the gym, where I'd weigh myself each week. C has some scales, but they're fucked (they seem to give a different reading each time you step on them). I suppose 140lbs is still a decent target to aim for, even if it's still technically 'overweight' (apparently I should be no more than 135-137lbs). I don't want to be thin, I just don't want to drop dead from a heart attack in my 60s.

OK, I'm going to shut up. I should stop bitching about this and just get off my sizeable arse and do something about it.