Tag Archives: goals

Not Freaking Out

Biggest struggles, In the here & now,

long road

I suppose like anyone who’s quite near the start of a really long term weight loss journey, when I really stop to consider the size of the task ahead of me, it’s quite daunting. In fact, scrap that – clearly I’m trying to win today’s prize for the world’s biggest understatement…terrifying is a better word. I mean, I’m doing ok – the positive mindset has taken root, I’m standing in the sweet spot and I feel like I’ve come a long way, not to mention picking up a whole posse’s worth of company as an amazing support network. So my foundations are really solid..I can almost hear the ever-increasing sound of marching boots (and flip-flops, eh Fleury!) as more and more people fall in behind us and beside us on the road to Skinny Town…we’ve totally got this.

In terms of the size of the task though, I’m barely off the starting blocks. Right now, as documented by my encounter with the bastard in the bathroom last weekend, I need to lose 144.5 pounds. I mean, that’s a lot of pounds, right? It’s a whole other person’s worth of pounds. And I know I’m sort of breaking it down into bite sized chunks, our recent trip was my first short term goal and hitting New Year’s day as a size 22 is my next…there will be others after that.

But I’m trying to get two steps ahead of the asshole in my mind, build a solid strategy you know..? Just in case he wheels out the big guns and starts trying to freak me out by getting in my face about just how far away Skinny Town is. Several of you are much further down the road than the rest of us, and some have started from even further away and so your journey is even longer than mine. If any of you want to share your own thoughts on how you’re sidestepping the ‘freak out’ button in the face of this epic journey we could all pick out the bits that we like and line them up ready to pull on as required.

Despite being a fat girl with form – as in I’ve been up and down the sizes multiple times before – I’d struggle to articulate exactly what kept the momentum going for me in times past, because most of the diets I’ve done in my life were started with blind enthusiasm and I just hoped for the best. Twice in my grown up life I’ve sashayed through the gates of Skinny Town to great fanfare, and plenty of other times I’ve seen it on the horizon, camped in the suburbs for a while but somehow I’ve ended up heading back to Mooseville on the fucking bullet train without stepping so much as a toe over the town boundary.

I have no idea what makes the difference between seeing the journey through right to the end, and not. Each time I’ve set off it’s been from a little bit further away and that bothers me, a lot. I totally fall in line with the statistics and that offends me, given that I like to consider myself as unique. My big hairy audacious goal has to work…I don’t want to be a statistic any more. Any nuggets of wisdom would be most welcome, from those in the posse who’ve already found the secret to keeping the momentum going long term.

I’m not leaving anything to chance this time 🙂

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Milestone Moments & Memories

Biggest Triumphs, Diet update, In the here & now, ,

IMG_3697

Hey posse…home at last, to a rock star welcome from my four-legged fur baby and an enthusiastic welcome from my boy, who’d managed to empty the fridge whilst I was gone…quelle surprise! 🙂 It’s been a memorable trip, and now it’s lovely to be home. Thanks for all your input, comments and emails re yesterday’s post – I love that whilst I was away I sense-checked my decisions and choices every time against the question ‘what would the posse do…?‘ and I love even more that I pretty much hit it straight for that very reason. And I’m here to tell you, you are ALL getting on the asshole’s last good nerve!

In response to both dilemmas, I took a mouthful, made all the right noises about how amazing it tasted and how much I appreciated the gesture, then handed the baton – along with cake and spoon – to the girls who executed a pretty perfect mexican wave of appreciation. They know I’m dieting, and even when the kind of cocktails that would happily take the enamel off your teeth were in play they had my back. Teamwork at it’s finest.

And I needn’t have been terrified about being frog-marched out of the sweet spot for my lack of willpower, never to return…no lack of willpower, and no asshole victories, just some creative accounting within a framework of accountability which means I’ve had treats, but they’ve been totted up instead of written off. I pared back on some of the drinking because eating the food I wanted was more important to me…I had as much fun as everyone else and what’s more I even remember it all, which is an added bonus! Did I wish I could throw caution to the wind and have everything I wanted..? Yes, of course I did, but the realisation that I can’t has wormed its way into my psyche, and even on holiday, I’m all over it.

For those of you who remember the heifer in the helicopter post, and were wondering how it went…yes I had to pay a $100 heavy levy, kind of an arse tax if you will, but it was a little discrete tile on the floor where I had to weigh in, just like everyone else and no alarms sounded, no SWAT team arrived to take out the fat girl and we had the most amazing time, flying over the Grand Canyon and eating a picnic lunch with champagne next to the Colorado river. I’ve even attached a picture by way of evidence, instead of my usual clip-art! For those of you who like or follow the Break Out The Skinny Girl Facebook page you’ll find a couple more pictures on there too.

So, enough…I’ll quit banging on about my trip now, and let’s pick up where I left off with the usual motley assortment of head spam shall we?  I have to ask myself the question what now?  This has generally been the danger zone for me…I’ve got form, in terms of dieting hard for a special event and then leaping off the dieting bandwagon with indecent haste as soon as the milestone moment has passed.  I half expected to be locked horns with the asshole at the first post-flight meal but I think he was too busy working on his exercise avoidance strategy to pay much attention to my food choices so I’ve just quietly carried on making good choices. But I need a new goal, another milestone moment to work towards…I’ll share it with you of course once I’ve figured it out:)

To coin my friend’s phrase, I’m thinking Kylie by Christmas?

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See It, Achieve It

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, , ,

medal

So I was lucky enough to have dinner last week with Sir Chris Hoy…*screws face up* okay okay you got me, I was lucky enough to attend a dinner last week where Sir Chris Hoy was the after dinner speaker – he was awesome. And rather more dishy than I’d expected if I’m honest – he’s already made my friend’s top 5 ‘list’ (you know, that list…) but I think he might just have upset the apple cart a bit on mine too, by knocking old Kevin Costner into 6th place. That’s a debate for another time, but anyway as MAMILs go he was, you know, up there. Buns of steel allegedly.

He was talking about his career as Britain’s most successful Olympian of all time with 6 gold medals and one silver under his belt. More particularly he was talking about the dedication to training and what it was that enabled him to push through the pain of everything he had to put his body through on a daily basis for years on end.  It was really emotional actually when they played the video montage of him winning all his medals. And I couldn’t help thinking as I sat there listening to him that whilst we might belong to the same human race, he and I are about as far apart as members of that human race as it’s possible to get.

He was up there, glowing with vitality, a supreme athlete talking about how he’d pushed his body to the extremes of what it’s possible for the human body to endure, in pursuit of a dream, which he achieved. And then he dreamed even bigger, and achieved again. As I sat there, buried under the best part of 300lbs of fatness, puffy feet stuffed inside strappy shoes which were digging in like mad, with back ache from doing nothing more exerting than standing on my feet a lot during the day, I felt so sad – and a little bit ashamed – that in my own way I’ve also pushed my body to the extreme. Not in pursuit of excellence, but simply because I’ve never gotten a hold of this broken relationship I have with food and put it to bed once and for all. But that’s why we’re here isn’t it? Me and the rest of our posse.

As it turns out, he and I have more in common than I thought. He’s a visualiser…his whole approach to training was based on him seeing himself race a perfect race. By focusing on that, he was able to tolerate the punishing train – hurt – repeat schedule day after day after day. And it was never the result which drove him – it was purely seeing himself racing the perfect race.

He made me smile when he talked about negotiating with his legs, telling them that this time round the track would be their last so they needed to give it their all. Then when they did, saying there’s just one more, but this time is the last time…ten times a session (his legs must be a bit gullible that’s all I can say…fool me once and all that!)

I’m a visualiser too. I don’t know if you read the ‘Heifer in the Helicopter‘ post a few weeks ago – I’ve been visualising the bloody bells and alarms going off every time the asshole in my mind rattles his chains, and it’s effective. It’s definitely kept me away from the hobnobs.  But, Sir Chris Hoy has further inspired me, and being the magpie that I am I’m going to pinch all of these different things that work for other people until I find the things that work best for me. I’m going to force my body into compliance by lying outrageously that the hobnobs are coming if it will just stick to the diet for one more day, and I’m going to keep on visualising.

I’m visualising running the perfect race from fat to skinny. Not focusing on the finish line but focusing instead on executing it perfectly. Sticking to my food plan, counting my points, ignoring the asshole, being the best I can be. And getting skinny..? That’s my Olympic gold right there.

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Big Hairy Audacious Goal

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, ,

bhag1

Don’t you think it’s funny how you find inspiration in the most unlikely places? I recently had to attend a workshop on business strategy, and whilst it was all quite interesting, one bit in particular really captured my imagination – I was introduced to the concept of the ‘Big Hairy Audacious Goal’. Apparently the phrase has been kicking around in the business world for ages, and it’s all about creating a clear and compelling goal which serves as a focal point, no matter how unrealistic it might actually be – kind of a cheeky knacker statement of intent.

How I have existed in business up to now without crossing the path of a BHAG I don’t know, but now the cat’s out of the bag I’m all over it…I am busy working on my very own big hairy audacious skinny goal. To be fair, many of my goals over the years have been pretty bloody audacious, long before I discovered that someone had coined this phrase so whilst I can’t claim the idea as my own, I’m certainly going to say I’m a natural when it comes to shooting for the moon.

For example, I might say that my BHAG is to walk into Victoria Beckham’s boutique this time next year, only for the sales lady to shake her head sadly and apologise that all their dresses were too big for me. *Falls on the floor laughing* – well it’s definitely audacious, given that right now I’d more likely be wrestled to the floor by a gaggle of skinny string beans before I’d even crossed the threshold…God forbid that I actually make it inside and dare to be fat amongst the skinniness of it all.

How about this one then…I could say my BHAG is to stick to my food plan and point every single thing I eat and drink for the rest of my life. Hells teeth that’s a scary thought. That’s a more scary thought than the Victoria Beckham one to be honest, because it’s a BHAG that is completely within my gift.  I could actually do that one. Well, when I say I could do that one, I mean it’s do-able. I’ll have to park this one for a minute, I’m developing a nervous twitch. Lets go back to Victoria Beckham, it’s easier to be flippant when I’m talking about that one.

Can you imagine…I mean don’t get me wrong – I love Victoria Beckham, love her family, love her work ethic and I even like some of her clothes. But can you imagine the horror on her face if she had to design a dress to flatter a non-string beany kind of girl? I mean I fully intend to be skinny as well you know, but even when I am I’ll still have to tuck my belly into my big girl pants and disguise my bingo wings, my wrinkly knees and my turkey neck. Just the thought of all that fabric would drive her to go and have a lie down with a glass of extra strength coconut water.

Much as I hate to say it, and much as it scares me, I think my BHAG has to be number two. The one that scares me shitless. Would it stop this cycle of yo-yo madness that I’ve been on for at least the last thirty years..? Yes. It would. Am I likely to lose the will to live, get bored weighing and measuring and counting for the rest of my days..? Yes, I am. Till I scream. Do I have to face facts and realise that if I don’t plan for this, commit to it and JFDI I’m going to live out the rest of my days on that ever changing axis..? Yes.

Number two it is then.  Posse, meet my BHAG…

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