It Started With A Dress: The Bikini Body Countdown Begins

In a new weekly feature, Her.ie newbie Liz is going to share her weight loss journey. She’ll be filling you in on fighting temptation, her willpower struggles with the cocktail menu and taking painfully slow steps towards regular exercise. All in the name of a dress. _____________________________________ Hanging on the wall at the end of my bed is the constant reminder I plan on shedding nearly two stone this year. I also plan on marking the trials and tribulations of ‘trying to be good’ – the favourite saying we all tout, and quickly replace when a cake is put in front of us. Week 52: Clubbing those pounds Summertime... and the livin’ is easy. Or at least that’s what you’re led to believe. Between longer evenings, the faint promise of some sunshine and the hint of beach times ahead, I took out the calendar and started the countdown I had to be beach bod ready. The good news is I had eight weeks. The bad news is I realised this while eating a share bag of malteasers. Clearly by myself. I decided before I started complaining about feeling chubby, that I had to be proactive about this. Miracles don’t happen overnight so I had to be a planner. And by planner, I clearly mean whipping out the calendar, colour coded pens (yes, I’m that cool), and tracking my points. I also resigned myself to the fact that I’d have to start exercising religiously. With that in mind, I went for a run (ok a jog, fast walk and slightly faster paced jog) on Monday, to the gym on Wednesday and a clubbercise class on Thursday with my lovely lady colleagues from Her.ie. And it was JUST the kick I needed… (Although the mere thought of raising my leg since that class is painful in itself) Admittedly, I thought this would be my thing. Exercise, cheesy 90s and epic dance music and the chance to shake my ass too… After making our way driving through pedestrianised roads (cheers Megan), the team decided to descend upon the energetic and fitness gurus that are JP and Sarah Jane. When we got handed glow-sticks we knew we were onto a winner. Any dance class that involved a mini-rave and Electric Picnic vibe would always get our vote. From hip juts, arm swings, lunges, swinging hips and 360 degree turns, it’s fair to say we were sweaty after an hour of pumping music. The best way to warm down? Well they decided to throw on ‘What Is Love?’ and let us freestyle. We’re lucky nobody lost an eye in a glowstick massacre. To say I haven’t been able to move since is an understatement, but it’s the good kind of pain. I promise. You feel better about yourself when you realise your tiredness is from actual exercise and not staying up late on another Netflix binge. I also had a pretty solid week when it came to clean eating. From countless fillets of sea bass, to salads, quinoa, and homemade cous cous, I was excited to see what the scales would hold. And because I’m still recovering from a few weeks of ill health, I’m still not weighing myself. I’m going to keep eating right and give myself until June before I step back on the scales. Which will clearly show me I’m well on the way to beach bod status…