All posts by Dee

Choosy Is Good, Right?

In the here & now, , ,

So, I had two things to navigate yesterday. One buffet lunch straight out of the 1970s with no healthy options whatsoever, and then a working dinner with some colleagues last night. I did okay, in fact you would’ve been proud of me. At lunchtime I did eat half a rather greasy sausage and a couple of fat sandwich quarters, but really only enough to stave off starvation and see me through the afternoon. And last night in the restaurant, I watched everyone else eat their appetisers but because there was nothing suitable on the menu for me I didn’t order one. Yes, you heard that right…even though I was ravenous I said no. I would have had one, but I was choosy, and choosy is good, right?

I practised behaving like a skinny girl. Squid? Awesome, I’ll have that, I love squid…oh hang on just a minute, deep fried in batter with a garlic mayo dip? Nah not for me…what else…oooh look, mini ribs with homemade slaw…I’ll have that! Oh blimey, hang on a sec, that barbecue sauce is probably loaded with sugar, and there’ll be half a tub of mayo in that slaw…shit, move past the ribs, come on we’ve got this. So I ordered a big fat juicy steak for my main, and passed on the starter.

The steak was alright, I mean it won’t go down in history as the best steak I’ve ever had but it was okay. It wasn’t big, and it wasn’t even particularly juicy but to be honest by the time I’d watched everyone else eat their squid and their ribs I wasn’t about to send it back. I’d ordered a side order of healthy greens, and I carefully transferred all my fries into the bowl my veggies came in just to get them off my plate.

I did catch my hand reaching out a couple of times to grab one of the fries…I ate three in the end. Which isn’t going to kill me, so there’s no drama and it’s a hell of an improvement on other similar meals in my chequered food past, where no chip escaped unscathed. Not on my watch. Don’t get me wrong, if I was in diet mode and trying, I would’ve just as carefully transferred the fries off my plate in a great show of willpower but over the course of the meal they would have gotten eaten anyway and that’s not willpower as much as geography. But not last night.

I was waiting, you know for the all-consuming desire to kick in and press the override switch on my willpower, but…nothing. It didn’t happen. And I didn’t eat dessert, although I can’t claim that as a victory because nobody else did either so that wasn’t willpower as much as circumstances. 

Interestingly enough though, when someone said does anyone fancy dessert? and the rest of our party shook their heads, my usual visceral reaction of wanting to beat to a pulp all the crazy people who passed on pudding meaning I couldn’t say yes either was also conspicuous by its absence…I didn’t want dessert. And thinking about it, I haven’t eaten anything sweet for over a month now. Saying that out loud almost makes we want to run to the mirror and make sure I’m still me.

I’m taking some comfort from all the above, and feeling rather hopeful that I might continue in a similar vein on my forthcoming trip…not having to fight with the asshole voice makes dinner out with friends a much more enjoyable experience, you know?

Have a great weekend everyone 🙂

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Jury’s Out…

In the here & now, ,

So I think I mentioned didn’t I, that my friend and I are heading out on holiday in a couple of weeks – I’m on countdown, with just eighteen sleeps to go. My friend is the world’s best travelling companion…she is uber organised. My modus operandi is to skid into my holidays having worked up to the very last minute with no preparation whatsoever but you know what, I totally get away with it because my friend does enough organising for the both of us. It’s the only bit of my life where I happily sit back and trust someone else to crack on and just tell me what we’re doing.

We’re cruising again – you know how I love life on the ocean – and this time we’re picking up our ship in Abu Dhabi and sailing into Oman, Fujairah, Sir Bani Yas Island and Dubai. I’ve never been to that part of the world and I’m curious to see what it’s like. It’s also my first hot holiday in a while, so I’m looking forward to finding a shady spot and devouring three or four good books as we sail through the week.

Things are going so well with my food plan at the moment that I’m in an agony of indecision trying to decide what food strategy I’m going to adopt whilst I’m on holiday, you know? Even though I stayed active on our last holiday by scaling waterfalls and climbing the odd mountain, and didn’t feel like I went overboard on the eating, I put on a ton of weight over the course of our week in Norway. I know I lost it again within a couple of weeks of coming home – once my plumbing recovered from the trip – but even so, watching the needle go up by eight pounds or so when I got home didn’t exactly fill me with joy and loveliness.

I’m not sure I ever really got back to the real focus I’d had on losing weight before the trip. I mean I limped along between getting home from that holiday and setting off for Cuba, but the impetus definitely fell off a cliff somewhere towards the end of summer.

My dilemma now, is that it feels a bit too soon to step away from this much more disciplined New Year mindset that I’ve manage to kick-start. By the same token I want to be able to enjoy the kind of carefree holiday moments where my friend and I throw caution to the wind and work our way through the cocktail menu for example, which always seems like a great idea at the time. The trouble is, my inhibitions diminish with each sip of whatever I’m drinking.

It’s not as if I’m a big drinker…actually I’m a bit of a fanny but it’s different on holiday somehow. And let’s be honest, you only get a thimble-full of french martini in your glass so it’s too easy to order another, and another…I seem to remember doing exactly that last time, and waking up the next morning with the remains of a cheesecake in my bed and a spoon stuck to my cheek. Not my finest hour, right?

Today marks my 31st day of eating properly, in terms of no processed food, and barely any refined sugar. I’m feeling awesome to be honest, and I know I can definitely keep the momentum going for the next two and a half weeks. The question is can I keep it going whilst I’m on holiday. Should I..?

I’m trying to steer clear of the kind of fat-girl thinking which equates having a good time with how much I can fit in my mouth, but I can already feel the asshole voice gearing up to flood my head with suggestions like it’s okay to relax a bit, you’re on holiday, and come on, you’ve been so good you deserve a treat…life’s too short, live a little and eat the fucking cake!!

I know those kind of sentiments are built on a crooked belief that denying myself the indulgences I want in the moment is some kind of punishment which will spoil the holiday I’ve worked so hard for. Which is bollocks, and I know it.

Still…

 

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A Wrong Turn Down Numb-Nuts Alley

In the here & now, ,

You know when you wake up with what feels like a cracking idea? That was me yesterday morning. I know, (I thought to myself, having updated the Shitbird Says page with this week’s 2.5lb loss) why don’t I look back at my weight-loss journey in the round, and see if I can spot any patterns that I can learn from, now I’ve rekindled that fire in my belly…

Yeah. Really cracking idea that was. At the end of January 2016 I weighed in at 267lbs having lost 11lbs in the month. And I started this year weighing 267lbs. Effectively what I’ve done between the end of last January and the beginning of this January is have a fucking gap year. Are you kidding me??!

In my head it didn’t look like that at all. I mean even a few days ago when I did a blog post reviewing my journey I knew I’d lost weight much more quickly in the early days and then fannied about a bit, but despite the highs and lows I didn’t realise that I’d netted out over the last 11 months to a big fat zero.

I sat there for a couple of minutes trying to decide whether I should laugh or cry but in the end it was a chuckle that found its way out. I mean come on, seriously?

Over the last year I’ve held the diet up to scrutiny, examining every forward and backwards step in forensic detail. I’ve listened carefully to all your advice and followed the bits that worked for me, and I’ve fallen down and pulled myself up again more than a few times but throughout all this I’ve felt like I was cutting my way through the mire, you know? Making progress.

Seems I took a wrong turn down numb-nuts alley and I’ve sweated and slogged my way around a circular route back to where I started. Well, not quite…by some miracle, the weight I dropped in the first five months never found its way back into my pants. It always has done in the past like a sort of arse-shaped boomerang, but thankfully I didn’t go right back to square one this time. I’m 65lbs down as it stands right now, and that’s still awesome.

I refuse to join the I’ve tried everything and I just can’t lose weight massive. I clearly can lose weight, when I’m on it. Let’s be honest, my problem is staying on it, right? But you know what, January’s been a good month for me, with nine and a half pounds gone. Technically, providing I lose two more pounds between now and the end of December I’ve beaten 2016 into a cocked hat.

I’ve got three weeks left before my forthcoming holiday (well, if we’re splitting hairs it’s actually two weeks and five days 🙂 ) and by the time me and my friend fly off for a dose of winter sunshine I’d like to be six pounds lighter than I am now. That would put me at the same weight I was when I went on holiday last August, and I felt great. There’s a novelty, two holidays six months apart and me wearing the same clothes…that’s a rare and beautiful thing.

It might look like I was treading water last year but I wasn’t, not really. I made very slow and steady progress. Mainly forward momentum, but when the fuck-ups happened they really happened. I can’t pretend I’m impressed with the speed of my journey overall, but you know what, I’m stronger, I’m fitter and I’ve learned a lot about myself so it’s all good.

Now it’s time to pick up the pace…I’d quite like to reach Skinny Town before I’m too old to enjoy it 🙂

 

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Pain Without My Meds

In the here & now, ,

I’ve been hurt this week – a betrayal by someone I considered to be a friend. The betrayal didn’t happen this week, actually it happened a while ago but I only just found out about it so it’s very raw. And I know, shit happens. We’ve all been there, right? We’ve all experienced one of those moments when we discover someone isn’t who we thought they were. I’ve been knocked sideways by my own naivety and I’m still processing the things I found out, so it’s fair to say I feel a bit down.

I guess sometimes you have to cut people loose from your life and move on. And that’s where I’m at…it’s true that wisdom comes with age. I’m as far from fond of the wrinkles on my face as it’s possible to get, but I do appreciate the things my advancing years have taught me – namely that if someone treats you like shit it’s generally their problem not yours. And I’m not responsible for someone else’s problems, in fact they can kiss my fat ass.

An interesting thing happened…despite the shit hitting the fan, I didn’t face-plant into a vat of cheeseballs. The opposite in fact. I dealt with it like a normal person. I talked about it with a friend, I brooded about it, I got upset and I got mad. I fantasised about what I’d like to say to the main protagonist in a world where my words would come out right first time and cut them down to size, but what I didn’t try to do was soothe my hurt feelings by working my way through half a dozen Daim cakes and a ton of salty snacks.

What’s that all about then? It’s a first, it what it is. I’m not sure how or where the wiring went wrong in my head, but somehow I’ve always carried a baked-in belief that stuff doesn’t hurt as much if I’m chewing whilst I get my head around it. Five thousand calories stops the bleeding far more effectively than a band aid ever could, or at least that’s what my past experience has taught me.

And this week, I could have gone down that route, you know? There’s a selection of cookies, Reece’s peanut butter cups and cake bars doing the rounds in our office at the moment…dry January is starting to bite and everyone seems to have the munchies. It’s not helpful when I’m shaky, but when I’m in the sweet spot it doesn’t bother me one little bit. So despite the maelstrom of emotion going on under the surface yesterday, none of the naughties came knocking on my door at all. Which is pretty awesome, when you consider the straight-as-a-dog’s-hind-leg nature of my more recent attempts at losing weight.

It’s a ray of sunshine in an otherwise shit week. And folk say things happen for a reason…maybe it was time for a bit of a life detox as well as a focus on clean eating. My emotional bruises will heal, and I’m as sure as I can be that they’ll do so without the assistance of asshole-driven comfort-food decisions.

He’s back in his box ladies, and that’s got to be worth celebrating, right? 🙂

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Rediscovering The High

In the here & now, ,

I drafted this post as I was laid in bed last night, reflecting on the day. I’m not going to lie, I was feeling very smug, having aced day twenty three of my new start. And yes, I know that smug is beyond irritating…I was even getting on my own nerves to be fair but there’s no other way to describe it really…I was smug. I can’t recall the last time I managed twenty three days on the bounce without sneaking in a single treat. Hell I earned smug, right?

It’s interesting to look back at the lifecycle of my diet. It’s gone through different stages over the last seventeen months and one week, which is exactly how long I’ve been on this journey. It’s already taken the crown for the longest diet I’ve ever been on, and it’s depressing to think that if I hadn’t pissballed around I could have been much further down the road than I am right now – let’s not forget that the pounds I’m losing at the moment have already been lost and then found again. Still, it is what it is.

Phase one was nailed on, feet planted firmly in the sweet spot and the thought of cheating on my diet would have filled me with horror. It was all about eating the right things in the right quantities, and slowly weaning myself off the armchair/TV combo. Phase two kicked in when I’d signed up for the Cuba trek and the hurt machine took up residence. The food plan still held firm and my weight-loss started to gather a bit of momentum…happy days.

Phase three was when I got a bit cocky. I’d upped the exercise but at the same time I upped my intake of food and carried on losing, just more slowly. In hindsight I was looking at it all wrong, you know? I sort of fell into the mindset that I was earning the right to eat more because I was working up a sweat and walking several times a week. Or, to put it another way, I was eating more and getting away with it. 

Phase four was when I met the God of Pain, and the exercise descended into torture on a regular basis. Cuba was getting nearer and I was working hard. And yet I was still eating my efforts…sure, there was a slow saunter down the scale but my losses weren’t especially impressive. Cuba came and went, and that’s when I bumped headlong into phase five, which by and large was a fucking disaster. My foot was completely off the gas, my food plan was peppered with binges, and reclaimed poundage moved back into my pants at warp speed.

So this is phase six, and I’ve come full circle. I’m back in the sweet spot and I feel unshakable…maybe because I’ve switched it up a notch. I mean, the diet hasn’t changed as such, I’m just spending my food budget more wisely and shopping like a grown-up. And let’s be honest,  the thought of having to take a picture of my conversation with the Shitbird Scale and show you if the needle has moved in the wrong direction is enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. It’s proving to be quite an effective appetite suppressant to be honest.

I’ve also rediscovered the high which comes with knowing I haven’t put a foot wrong. And I’m here to tell you that it hands down beats the high I get from a crinkly wrapper and a sugar hit. Any day of the week 🙂

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