Tag Archives: struggling

Dialling Up The Pressure

In the here & now,

donkey

Holy Moly it feels like the pressure is really ramping up now – I’ve got some last minute bits and pieces sorted out this week, and tomorrow I have my final practise walk before the actual trek itself. It’s scary to think this time next week I’ll orienting my way around Havana, feeling like a proper adventurer on my way to explore the deepest depths of the Cuban rainforest. Eeek!!

Something that hadn’t occurred to me, in the middle of all this preparation for the walking and the bugs and the camping, was that for the first and last two days of the trip we’re actually on holiday in a proper hotel with a pool and a cocktail menu. Result! And there are some trips arranged for us around old Havana amongst other things, I mean they’re really going to give us a flavour of Cuba. I’ve been too caught up in everything else to even think about that.

I’m even more excited now I’ve actually read the small print, although it’s sort of knocked my packing a bit sideways –let’s be honest, I’d look like a dick sitting around the pool in full trekking gear including hat complete with mozzie net, looking for all the world like I’m on the edge of an adventure whilst everyone else gets their groove on with a Cuba Libre and a good book.

So it seems like I need four days’ worth of non-trekkie clothes too. Which is fine, except they’ve given us a limit on luggage, and most of my allowance will be taken up by bug spray. Maybe I need to relax a bit about the bugs. Just take, you know five gallons of insect repellant instead of six..? I was playing fast and loose with my baggage allowance until they said my bag might need to be transported by donkeys, and since they’re much cuter than your average baggage handler I feel a certain obligation to remain within my weight limit.

Honestly? The pressure of knowing everything I’ve been working for is just around the corner is playing havoc with my food plan. My Asshole voice is having a ball, trying to talk me into no end of naughties and I’m afraid to admit he’s achieved a pretty good strike rate this week. WTF is wrong with me? I ate three cupcakes at work today. Three. Counting them conservatively in terms of smart points that’s twenty one points out of a daily allowance of thirty four. That’s not even funny, right?

It’s been the same all week, and it was equally hard last week too just to stay in the zone and maintain focus. I’ll bare my arse to the world if I’ve lost any weight this week… I’m three points in deficit at this point and I haven’t eaten dinner yet. The boxing class I should have gone to after work didn’t happen because the motorway was snarled up with an accident and I didn’t make it in time even though I left work early so I’m relying on our long walk tomorrow to help me snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. But talk about sailing close to the wind.

I need to give my head a wobble and remind myself why I’m doing this…I didn’t lose weight to go to Cuba, I’m going to Cuba because I needed something to help me focus my mind. How ironic would it be if the pressure got to me enough that I fell off the wagon? Don’t worry, I’m not planning to, I’m just thinking out loud.

Tomorrow I’m going to walk my socks off, and Sunday is a bright shiny new week…let me at it 🙂

 

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Because, Because, Because

In the here & now, ,



lazy

Today’s been one of those days where I’ve got on my own nerves. I woke up at around 7am and cussed myself for waking too early on a day when I didn’t need to be at work. After practically frog-marching my head back to sleep, it was well after 10am before my eyelids dared to try again, at which time I cussed myself a second time for sleeping too long. Of course it didn’t occur to me that I could have set my alarm for the time I was hoping to wake up…that would have been too simple, right?

After grumbling to myself that I’d wasted a chunk of the day, I proceeded to make myself some breakfast and waste a chunk more of it by watching TV and mooching on-line. Then I fixed some lunch and burned another couple of hours. It was only when Charlie’s dog stare became so uncomfortably persistent that I forced myself to get dressed and go out and walk him. It was the very last thing I wanted to do, to the point where I almost didn’t.

To be honest, I’ve got an issue with that. I’m mad. All the way around our usual three mile circuit I’ve been battling the Asshole voice who is in fine fettle today. I feel really frustrated that some days, despite being eight and a half months into this regime it still doesn’t feel like my new normal. My head seems very quick to forget that I’ve taken a big step away from the life I was living before and still tries every trick in the book to throw that rusty nail under my wheels.

In times gone by my Bank Holiday Monday would have been spent in the armchair, and the Asshole voice has been busy trying to stir up resentment that today it wasn’t possible. And a few of the barbs have hit home, you know? For God’s sake woman you’re not a machine…it’s the only day you’ve had completely to yourself and there’s no good reason why you can’t just relax and kick back…

Listening to that, and buying into it is what allowed me to languish in my big fat leather recliner until well after 2pm. Shaking myself out of that reverie was tough, and had it not been for the doggy death stare I might have still been there now. That same voice followed me all the way around our eventual walk, pointing out just exactly how much my knee was hurting today where it hasn’t so much recently. Take an early left and head for home, this isn’t doing you any good.

Of course it was doing me good, you fucking ejit. This whole thing is doing me good. It’s a shame that my head doesn’t always get with the programme but seriously, dude, the only reason I used to spend so much time in that armchair is because it was the only place in the world that I could get comfortable. Because I was so fat. Because outside of working hours I practically lived in the armchair. Because I couldn’t get up and walk the dog for three yards without hurting, never mind three miles.

Today, I could. And I might have had the Asshole voice playing on a loop in my head, and my knee might have randomly started aching a bit but in the grand scheme of things it hardly matters that it took me a bit longer than usual to get my motor running today…the fact is I did, eventually, because I can.

Remembering things I couldn’t do before, and the fact that now I have choices where before I didn’t…that helps, on days like this 🙂

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