Fab by 40

Okay, so as well as trying to save money, I’m also on a mission to get myself looking as good as possible by the time I hit the dreaded 4-0.

I’ve got just over a year to transform myself from a frumpy, wobbly mum to a more toned, more compact and more stylish version.

It’s not going to be easy because a) the no-money thing b) I’m inherently lazy and averse to exercise c) I don’t think I’ve ever looked stylish and refer back to a) because I don’t have the spare cash to spend on nice clothes and d) I have very little willpower and a terrible sweet tooth.

At some point in the future, I might post a ‘Before’ pic but it’s too close to home right now. I need to see some improvement before I can put that out there!

The plan is to work a reasonable exercise regime into my weekly schedule, so I know that on Sunday I go swimming or Tuesday evening I’ll run. I think that’s what I need. A routine, so it’s less easy to duck out of.

I also need to cut down on the sugary treats, big time. (I’m writing this while excitedly awaiting the start of the new series of The Great British Bake Off. The irony. Sometimes I get into such a rut that every time I go to the shops, I’ll pick up a little treat for myself. Not good! And weekends will always involve a family outing where I’m far more focused on the coffee’n’cake element than anything else.

I’m not overweight but I’d like to drop a few pounds. Who doesn’t? But it’s more the shape of everything since I had my two boys that concerns me the most. Everything’s a bit jelly-like, especially the awful mum-tum and the thought of that turning into permanent middle-aged spread fills me with horror.

It is completely my own fault as I didn’t really do any exercise between boys. I dabbled in pilates and swimming while pregnant the first time round and I walked a lot then, but in between I only really made the occasional half-hearted attempt to run or swim. I could probably count on both hands the number of times this happened. Then I became pregnant again, felt nauseous and exhausted in turn for most of the time and any thought of moving further than the sofa or the bed was banished.