Tag Archives: motivated

Thanks…Enough Now!

In the here & now, , , ,



compliment

I could get used to this…having packed such a lot in to the last few days I feel like I’ve already had my weekend, and yet it’s only Sunday with a Bank Holiday tomorrow...get in. I just had my weekly encounter with the bitch in the bathroom and the number hasn’t moved this week, which is annoying, but all it drew from me was a Paddington stare and a silent fuck you. To be honest, it hasn’t put a dink in my Sunday at all – I’m still riding the euphoria of the last couple of days.

On that though…whilst I sincerely appreciate all the love and the compliments which have come my way, I’d like to point out that it would have been much more helpful if you’d all emailed and said you didn’t look bad but Christ on a bike look at the size of your arse...I’ve got the Asshole on my case now with a full blown campaign designed to persuade me that enough is enough.

In the past, it’s sometimes taken just one compliment for me to down tools. Such-a-body said I’m looking good so I think I can leave it there, well done me, I’m done. And when I actually think about it, a compliment combined with me feeling better generally has pretty much guaranteed that me and whatever diet I was doing would head directly to splitzville. Dee and the diet remain the best of friends and wish each other well for the future but are now consciously uncoupling and will be seeing other people…

I need to shut the Asshole down immediately…I’m still eight stones too heavy for my frame and whilst I’m able to do far more now than I could at my heaviest I’m a million miles away from the person I see in the daydreams which I’ve hugged to myself for the last few months, you know? Me, sashaying down the road in skinny jeans without a care in the world. Me, whizzing up that mountain in Cuba without breaking a sweat. Me, enjoying myself doing whatever without giving a monkey’s chuff about what I might look like.

I can pretty much write the script of how it would go if I took my foot off the gas now…I’d be careful for ten minutes and then lose the plot altogether, which is basically what I’ve done my whole life. I think it was Dr. Phil who used to say that the best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour…he’s got a point, right?

Even when I did the VLC liquid diet and got to my skinniest weight I still stopped a bit short of the goal weight I’d set myself when I started because I’d reached the point where one more chalky soup would have tipped me over the edge. I mean, I might have actually even killed someone. As soon as that BMI number nudged point nought nought nought one inside the boundary of normal that was it. Finito.

What I’ve come to realise is that the number you moot as your ideal number at the start of your journey is an important psychological milestone. Actually mine isn’t a number, it’s a dress size. UK 12…that’s my holy grail. If I stop at a 14 or a 16, I’ll just continue to bounce around because I’ve set size 12 as my anchor. My cornerstone. So if I stop short, essentially I’m buggered.

I love how you all jumped in to make me feel a million dollars, you knew instinctively that I needed that confidence boost and good Lord did you ever come through for me. But I’m going to tuck those lovely words away for a while now, okay? I might wheel them out once in a while if I’m having a down day, or if the Asshole’s chewing my ear and eroding my confidence. But for now, I need to gently shut the door on them and get on with the business of getting skinny!

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A Wise Man Once Said…

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believe

…whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.

I think we have Henry Ford to thank for that nugget of wisdom, and it’s one of my favourite ever quotes. I admire its simplicity, and yet it’s really clever. And there’s no doubt about it, the level of self-belief that you carry in your head is 100% responsible for your ability to keep both feet planted squarely in the middle of the dieting sweet spot. Or not.

Isn’t it funny, I don’t remember anything remarkable about the day this all began. I mean obviously I knew that the time was right – it was the first Monday after my holiday. Time for the post-holiday diet. And I suspect because the holiday had been both awesome and agonising in equal measure due to the fact that I weighed as much as a moose, I felt a tiny bit more determined than I had on other Mondays which had come and gone whilst my arse continued to party.

And it somehow felt a bit different. From day one, there was a conviction which came out of nowhere and said to me this time is IT, although I couldn’t immediately put my finger on why this time was going to be different to any of the other times. Starting a diet wasn’t an unknown concept to me if you remember, and to be fair all of them started with 100% commitment. Trouble is, they usually managed to limp across the line of Thursday at best, and by Friday I was usually promising myself faithfully that I’d start again on Monday which meant a power-eating free-for-all over the weekend.

It’s like my commitment bucket had holes in the bottom you know? And I recognised that. I knew that no matter how many hopes and dreams or how much determination I poured into the top, my resolve had a habit of disappearing out of the bottom like sand through my fingers before I’d even got going. I realised that I needed to find a way to patch the holes up. And then you lot happened.

By some miracle I made it to the Saturday. I don’t remember many conversations with the Asshole voice in that first week, it’s like I got a head start, you know? Maybe someone was rooting for me…who knows. But on the Saturday…well, that’s when I started writing. And a little while after that, you started writing back to me, and we’ve been talking ever since.

It’s a beautiful thing. Whenever I’ve had wobbles, you’ve propped me up. When you’ve had wobbles you’ve dipped in and pulled out whatever you need from the posts or the wise old owls who hang out in here. Writing all my thoughts down shines a light on the holes in my bucket, and between us all we’re busy patching them up.

When I started, I thought I could do this. I still think I can. And I’m right 🙂

 

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A Bag Of Contradictions

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recipe

Over the years I’ve gotten to know myself quite well, you know? I mean all this wrestling my head into the skinny zone stuff is different and new, but I’m fairly au fait with the way my mind works in the other bits of my life. Non food-related situations if you like. Unsurprisingly, it’s far less troublesome when the Asshole voice doesn’t have a view.

Having said that, I do confuse myself if I stop and think too hard about it. For example I’m not good with change, which is ironic when you consider that much of my professional life is spent up to my eyeballs in managing change. On a personal level, I don’t like it at all. I know what I like, and I like what I know. And yet. I have the lowest boredom threshold ever. Routine is anathema to me, and when I’m bored I get destructive, which often doesn’t end well.

Seriously, the joke’s on me, right? Easily bored but doesn’t like change…wtf am I supposed to do with that? Good job I’ve got a sense of humour.

So anyway, I can feel myself starting to get a bit bored with my menu choices, so in order to head destructive off at the pass, I’ve just bought a new recipe book. I’ve decided that it’s time to get a bit more adventurous with the food I’m preparing, so I can stop feeling uninspired, which in turn means I’m less likely to get tempted to go play out on naughty street. That’s good planning, right?

If you’re anything like me, there comes a point after a while where no matter how much you love a wide variety of food, you keep returning to the same tried and tested handful of meals. There’s comfort in familiarity…you know the points value, it’s easy and you know it works, as in I ate this last week and I lost weight…but I recognize that I need to up my game in order to keep my head interested.

Why that involved buying a new recipe book, I have no idea. I must have a dozen recipe books. Low fat, low carb, low GI…Weight Watchers, Slimming World, Atkins…it’s like Barnes & Noble in one corner of my kitchen. And to be honest, beyond a quick flick through to admire the pictures when I first bought them, it would be fair to say they haven’t seen a great deal of action. Wait, that’s not strictly true, one time when my friend visited with her grandson and he couldn’t reach the table we sat him on half a dozen of the largest ones, but it’s fair to say not many of the pages are splashed with wayward ingredients.

So, that’s my latest challenge to myself. I have no delusions that I’m about to turn into some kind of domestic goddess, and I already struggle with a pitiful amount of spare time. But this whole journey has been about finding ways that I can do stuff, rather than making excuses as to why I can’t, right? Once every week, most likely at the weekend, I am going to pick out a recipe that’s interesting, nutritious and which isn’t going to bust my food budget, and I’m going to try it out.

My boy would tell you this has disaster written all over it but if it keeps me out of mischief I’m game… 🙂

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Who Saw THAT One Coming!

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exercise

Well, I’ll be damned! Who’d have thought it..? They said it would happen…to be fair, you lot pointed out that it would happen, and I nodded along of course, because you’re a bunch of wise old beans who know stuff. But genuinely, on the inside, and with my hand on my heart I didn’t believe it, not even a little bit. And yet. Here I am.

Did you notice, yesterday? At the risk of repeating myself, I wrote this…

I’ve missed walking this week – my sore hamstring and pinched nerve have given me more than a couple of challenges, but I’m slowly feeling better and it’s a gorgeous day out there…as soon as I’ve put my last full stop on the page, me and the furry one are going to go out and have a bit of fresh air. It might be a bit slower than normal, and it might take a bit longer but I’ve had a touch of cabin fever over the last few days, so it’s time to motor. That’s going to be up there flirting with a ten.

It was only when I was reading the post back to myself last night and looking at your messages, including an ‘I told you so’ email from one of the posse that I realised. It might have snuck up on me by stealth, but there I am in black and white, referring to something which falls completely under the heading of exercise in a very positive manner, as in I’ve missed it and I’m anticipating that I shall enjoy it to the power of ten. Bugger me!

Those words weren’t planned, they just tumbled onto the page with the rest of what I was thinking about. I wrote them without really thinking about them, and even as we walked, I didn’t realise that the Asshole voice was conspicuous by his absence. There was no nagging to hang an early left in order to cut the distance down from the route I had in my head. All I thought about yesterday, even as I was  gently encouraging my still-a-bit-tender hamstring up the big hill at the start of our walk, was how good it felt to be out in the fresh air, and not hobbling around at home feeling guilty because I wasn’t moving much.

And actually, whilst we’re on the subject, that’s another revelation. I didn’t fist-bump at the opportunity to sit on my backside all week and rest. To be fair there wasn’t much sitting going on anyway, given the bruising 🙁 but I genuinely felt frustrated that something had come along to disrupt the momentum that I’ve been building up over the last few months. I was even careful with my food plan to compensate for my lack of activity.

Even as I write this I’m shaking my head in wonder…I could almost use a cold compress on my forehead to help me cope with this amount of sensible. I didn’t do any of that through gritted teeth, or resent the hell out of having to tighten up my eating. I did what felt right, under the circumstances, and without really thinking too much about it in order to adapt and find the balance in a tricky situation. Me! I did that!! In a perverse kind of way, I’m grateful for the injury because it helped me see.

Every now and then, it’s good when someone helps me lift the veil off, you know? It makes me realise that bit by bit I’m changing. Honestly, I’m far more excited by the changes I can feel happening on the inside than I am about the fact that I’m four dress sizes down…my body has changed shape countless times over the years, but my head never shifted in the way it looked at things. This time, that’s what’s going to keep me in Skinny Town, right?

Two more pounds off this week…I feel strong, steady and very sure-footed. Come on!

 

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Using Life’s Imperfections Perfectly

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can

How about this for a great quote…

Your ability to grow to your highest potential is directly related to your willingness to act in the face of imperfection. You will come to succeed not by finding a perfect moment, but by learning to see and use life’s imperfections perfectly.

Isn’t that awesome? I tripped over it on the way around my virtual stomping grounds a couple of days ago, and it struck me as useful, but I needed to play around with it a bit in my head before its meaning sort of morphed into something I can really relate to.

Shall I paraphrase in plain old Yorkshire speak? I’ve interpreted it to mean stop dicking around using the excuse of I can’t, because…instead, say I’m going to, even though [insert whichever bump in road here]. Adopt that approach and you’ve cracked it.

Today’s particular bump in the road was all tied into the fundraising efforts of me and my four colleagues who are trekking 90 miles across the Escambray mountain range in Cuba, to raise money for our chosen charities. We decided that we would run a bake sale in the office, and over the last week or so we’ve been busy recruiting bakers from around the various departments. Today was the day, and there was much anticipation.

In my car, on the way to work I was sat beside three airtight containers, one holding flapjack (my favourite), one holding chocolate brownies (my favourite) and the third one containing baked raisin and oatmeal cookies. My favourite. The Asshole voice was almost apoplexic. You can’t put those on the table and sell them if you haven’t tasted them, come on they might not be nice! What will people think! You at least have to try one of each. It’s a necessity, it certainly doesn’t mean you’ve cheated on your diet.

Remember, I have a near 50 mile commute…that’s a lot of time to spend trapped and alone in the car with the Asshole voice, where nobody would see if I caved in and plundered the boxes, right? I was so busy mentally calculating how many smart points might be in each, and getting stuck on the sums that by some miracle I made it safely into the car park without consuming so much as a crumb. I’m here to tell you it was a very close call.

The actual bake sale was easy…our bakers had done us proud, and there was an amazing spread. I’ve put it right out there that I’m losing weight to be able to do the trek, so surrounded by words of encouragement, and with the ching-ching of pennies hitting the bottom of the collecting tin as folk lined up to choose their cake, I could hardly be seen face-planting into any of the baking could I..? I might have licked my finger from time to time when I was helping to clear up afterwards but in the grand scheme of things I consider that a victory.

Trouble is, not all the cookies were sold, so they came home with me. My boy will vaporize them over the weekend and to be honest I’m over my wobble…in reality if I was going to have a treat, it wouldn’t be cookies. I actually cut myself a slice of carrot cake to bring home, and I’ve wildly over-estimated the smart points value, so I will have that after supper, and I will enjoy every single guilt free mouthful. It looks like heaven on a plate.

What’s more, I can look back and say I did, even though… 🙂

If you haven’t read about my trek to Cuba, and you’d like to understand more about why I’m passionate about getting fit enough to be able to honour my dad’s memory by raising as much money as possible for people affected by mental illness, you can see his story HERE – I’m grateful for any support you feel able to give, no matter how small 🙂

 

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