Category Archives: Freeform thoughts

Hurting You, Pleasing Me

Biggest struggles, Freeform thoughts, ,

 

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So we’ve had the most amazing trip. I’ve made some awesome memories and one of the nights in particular will stay with me always…early cocktails on the terrace of the Skyfall Lounge watching the sun set and seeing Las Vegas come alive, followed by dinner on the terrace of Olives restaurant at The Bellagio, whilst their fountains danced right in front of us…it was magical.

This was day two. Bearing in mind how flexible the weight watchers food plan is, up to that point I had felt completely in charge of me…keeping track of points when you’re constantly being offered things where you can only estimate point values – like the airline meals for example – is always going to be a challenge. But you’ve got to eat, on an 11 hour flight, right?  And when you cross time zones and end up with an extra 8 hours in your day you kind of have to adjust stuff, mess around with your budget a bit.

I took a balanced approach…accepting a little pot of ice-cream with the movie on the flight felt okay because I’d refused a bread roll and chosen not to eat desserts and cake with the meal…not perfect, but given the asshole’s campaign to make me forget the diet for the duration of the trip I felt I was firmly in control of my choices. So I was doing ok.

But going back to our memorable night..getting a table on the terrace at the Skyfall Lounge is a privilege reserved for a very chosen few. My friends had made the reservation weeks in advance, emailing details about the fact we were celebrating a milestone birthday to help get it in the bag, and so there we were…pre-dinner cocktails with the best view in town. Amazing. And then the manager rocked up with a surprise birthday cake bomb which he proceeded to souse in limoncello, cover with two huge dollops of whipped cream and present to me with a flourish. What a lovely gesture…but man oh man, I’d quietly made skinny food choices all day, trying to juggle stuff so I could fit all the planned treats in, including cocktails and a special dinner.

So do I say ‘thanks but no thanks’, and throw the gesture back in his face, or do I eat it as he’s standing there expectantly, having just presented the fat lady who is clearly no stranger to cake with the best boozy creamy cake ever. Let’s look at the evidence…I’m a people pleaser. I do in fact love cake. And limoncello. And cream! And they’re all on a plate together in front of me, an unexpected gesture made by someone who wanted to do a nice thing, just for me. And the asshole in my mind is on it like a car bonnet…you ungrateful cow, of course you have to eat it…it would be totally rude not to, he’s trying to make your birthday treat extra special, you’ll look ridiculous if you make a fuss and say you don’t want it…

Dilemma. And bugger me, fast forward a few hours…we’d had a magical dinner, again, seats on the Olives restaurant terrace are really difficult to engineer since everybody wants them yet they aren’t bookable in advance. We got really lucky, and the evening was made more enjoyable still by our waiter Paul, who was utterly charming, and just wanted us to have an awesome time. And would you bloody believe it, after my carefully chosen meal he arrived at the table with profiteroles with a Happy Birthday piped in chocolate and birthday candles, just for me, thinking he was going to make my evening extra special.

Again with the dilemma…and again with the asshole who by this time of course was hopping up and down like Rumplestiltskin screaming don’t be rude just eat it and be thankful for the lovely gesture, don’t even think about saying no! Once again I’m faced with Hobson’s choice…put someone’s feelings before my own and risk the wheels coming off my food plan…or put myself first and hurt their feelings. Twice in one otherwise perfect night!

So…over to you guys. What do you reckon happened..? And what would you have done in my place..? Bear in mind, I’m not perfect and I’m navigating the road to skinny town the best way I can…I’ll share the outcome tomorrow but I’m curious as to how you all would have reacted ?

 

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Wanting To Want To

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

Pet hamster holding a blank white sign on a stick as an advertising and marketing concept with a cute mouse like mammal with a smile communicating an important Veterinary or Veterinarian related message.

One of the benefits that I’m finding in writing all my mixed up thoughts down and pulling them into the kind of order that makes it possible for other people to read, is the clarity I’m uncovering for myself.  I’ve never approached this as a ‘Dear Diary’ blog given that I doubt anyone but me would be remotely interested in the general titter and shit of my life – I’ve tried to take the seed of an idea in each post and kind of kick it about out loud so I understand where I land with my perspective.

That seems to be switching on a few lightbulbs as we go along…for me as much as anyone. And it’s good to take one thought at a time, and really dissect it. A bit like when they used to make you chop up a frog in the science lab at school so you could see what was inside, just a bit less messy. So following on from me identifying my big hairy audacious skinny goal, I need to unpick some of the habits that could make the wheels come off. After all, any good strategy needs to keep sight of the likely bumps in the road in order to plan for them, right? In the context of dieting where broken choices and bad habits have gotten me into this mess, I need to be able to call out the difference between routine, and habit.

I guess for me, routine is the framework of my life. I get up, I go to work, I come home…I take care of my mum, feed the dog, hang out with my boy…all those things are fairly routine because they need to happen to keep life ticking along. I suppose there’s no such thing as a good or a bad routine, sure some are more fun than others but they’re fairly easy to change if they’re not working for you. Habits are something different. In my mind, I see habits as the angels or demons that live within your routine…they’re either rootin’ for you or pulling against you. And where bad habits are concerned, the asshole in my mind is right behind the wheel.

Told you he operated by stealth didn’t I..? I think it was Zig Ziglar who said that all bad habits start slowly and gradually and before you know you have the habit, the habit has you…that’s so true. Trouble is, some of these bad habits are destructive, yet comforting at the same time, you know? Think about it. I get in from work, knackered..long day, busy busy busy…hauling 300lbs of body around equates to not much energy left, aching back, swollen feet. I look forward all day to climbing into pyjamas, sinking into the armchair with the dog on my knee and eating something (or several somethings) as I watch TV and relax.

And yet. That’s one of the worst habits I have that I need to break. I know that…it’s not doing me any good. Being completely sedentary in my down-time is not encouraging my buns to shrink and although I’m in the sweet spot and I’m completely in control of my food choices, this is where the asshole is still in control of the route map. But from where I’m standing right now, I don’t want to break that habit – there. I’ve said it. I look forward to that moment all day long!  What I want, is to want to want to break the habit…and therein lies the rub. That’s a different thing altogether.

Let me chew on that a bit longer.  I have some thoughts, and I’ll write more tomorrow. And if anyone cares to share what helped them want to want to change something they didn’t want to change I’m all ears 🙂

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Skinny on Purpose

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, , ,

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I can’t remember which blog post it was, but a few days ago I alluded to some of the homework I’d done when I was seeing my hookie spooky magic lady, and it prompted me to look back through some of the sessions we did and the reflections she always encouraged me to write down afterwards.  I was fairly self-aware even before I started talking to her, but I genuinely had some real light-bulb moments during the times that we sat and chatted back and forth about…well, stuff.

One of the biggest revelations to me was that skinny people weren’t generally skinny by accident. I mean yes of course you always get the odd smug string bean here and there who takes great delight in telling you that they can eat what they like without putting on a pound…I don’t know about you but I always want to enquire whether they’d like to chew on my fist, that being the case. But generally skinny people are skinny because they choose to be skinny.

Which basically means that if they eat out in a restaurant, they might look at the menu (just like I do), and immediately start salivating over the calorie-tastic menu options (just like I do) but after mentally calculating how many calories are in the dish they most like the look of (I don’t do that) they decide against it in favour of a skinny girl option (I don’t do that either 🙁 ). Up to that point, I hadn’t given much thought to how the mind of a skinny person operated, because even at the points in my life where I qualified as a string bean, I wasn’t there long enough to really settle into the mindset of being a skinny person.

I mean yes, for swathes of my life I’ve been in the sweet spot and almost evangelical about the food choices I made because I was on my way down the sizes, but in terms of it just being something I did naturally, unbidden when I wasn’t actually on a diet…no. It would never have even occurred to me to participate in such madness.

It was a revelation, genuinely a light switching on in my head. It made me accept that I had to be accountable for my choices, be they good or bad you know? Every choice has consequences and being a grown up means understanding and accepting the consequences before you make the choice. I could no longer bemoan the fact that I put weight on easily when all these people *sweeping motion of fat arm* could eat what they liked without getting fat. The light bulb switching on made me realise that the reason they didn’t get fat was because making the choice to be skinny was a constant in their life where it never had been in mine. Who knew!

I’d love to say that following that realisation I immediately started making all the right choices and from there it’s been plain sailing…of course it hasn’t.  I’ve talked a lot over the last few weeks about finding the sweet spot, and if you’re not there, you’re not there. Knowledge doesn’t even come close to equalling power if your head’s not in the right place. Ask any fat girl about the theory of losing weight and they can almost certainly reel off more info than your average skinny string bean expert. Putting it into practise is something entirely different though mm?

But I’m there now. I’m making those choices now. And per my BHAG, when I arrive into skinny town, instead of throwing caution to the wind, I’m going to carry on making grown-up-accept-the-consequences skinny choices, because now I get it. I know have to.

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So What Makes The Cut?

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, , , ,

casesLordy, where do I even start with this one. So I’ve been busy over the last couple of days getting my stuff ready for my forthcoming trip. (What do you mean you hadn’t realised I was going away, didn’t I mention it?) And the fact that I’m only going for four nights is in no way proportional to the size of the bag I’m taking with me, in fact folk might well suspect I’m emigrating when they see me setting off.

I’ve mentioned the wardrobe situation before haven’t I, in a post a few weeks ago – my skinny clothes reside inside those closet doors whilst my fat clothes are relegated to the laundry basket/ironing pile merry-go-round. I bought quite a few new outfits before my last holiday, but I’ve got to be honest I don’t think I possess one single fat garment that I would choose to wear as a skinny girl. So what makes the cut, and gets to come on the trip? I think probably everything. I have to account for the asshole factor you see.

In the few times in my life that I’ve achieved the hallowed skinny girl status, I’ve gone mad buying clothes…lots and lots and lots of clothes. Most of which sit in my closet still, with the tags attached. Were I travelling as a skinny girl, given that we know our itinerary I’d have a carefully selected outfit for each day, each evening and maybe one or two spare things. I’d unpack, hang them up and wear what I’d planned to wear, when I’d planned to wear it and beyond that, I wouldn’t  give it much thought.

Travelling as a fat girl, with the asshole in my head in tow, it’s a different proposition. Whilst I’m packing, he’ll tell me yes that looks fine…he’ll say that about everything, pretty much. But when I’m there…different story you know? You’re really wearing that? It makes your bum look like two puppies fighting in a sack. Your arms are on display and it’s too tight…it doesn’t look right, doesn’t fit right, you look twice as big as you really are if that’s even possible…I know I’m getting better at ignoring him, but I sort of feel like I’ve got to take twice what I actually need you know? Kind of like fat girl insurance.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s no pity party going on here…it is what it is and I’m buffeted from the barbed comments he’ll sling in my direction by the deep rooted confidence that I’m on a clear path from fat to skinny, so next time I can set off with a pair of clean knickers and a toothbrush rattling around in my bag because the rest of my holiday duds will be waiting for me in the boutiques lining the malls that I’m going to pillage whilst I’m there.

There’ll definitely be shopping this week…you know the score. Maybe a bit of jewellery…a handbag perhaps…scent, yes definitely scent…fat girl accessories, but clothes, no. I don’t need fat clothes, I have them and besides they’ll have limited shelf life since I’m on the road to skinny town 🙂 And I have all the skinny clothes I need, I’m just waiting for my buns to shrink.

I have everything I need…I’m in a good place  cocktail

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Let Them Eat Cake

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

cake

Well I have to say that The Daily Mail this week has produced it’s finest work yet in terms of a string of enlightening articles about diet, weight loss and fitness. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of their website in general…it’s free, and who wouldn’t want a running commentary on which bland-and-yet-famous person is sleeping with which other bland-and-yet-famous person. Still, far be it from me to cast aspersions on this goldmine of gossip, I can hardly diss it when I check in most days and have a flick through – besides, one of my biggest fans keeps posting snippets about us in the comments section of anything vaguely diet-related and as a result we’ve acquired some gorgeous new additions to the posse. No, it’s all good…and it just got better. Seemingly there’s a diet where you eat nothing but cake, and still lose weight. Mama I am home!

Oh. Oh dear. It seems that they missed the point a bit. How unlike them! I nearly broke my neck to follow the link and look at some sample food plans – I felt quite giddy as the webpage loaded…I’m thinking muffins for breakfast, maybe a nice victoria sandwich for elevenses…sachertorte at lunch, madeira cake with afternoon tea and how about a huge coffee and walnut wedge at teatime? Er…no. I realised that perhaps this wasn’t quite the Utopia I’d imagined when my eyes latched onto the words ‘unlimited salad’ halfway down the sample food plan.

On closer inspection, a towering tiered cake which positively gleamed with ‘eat me’ sheen appears to be made of melon. So basically a melon cut into a cake shape. I love melon…but it’s melon. Not cake. So the headline certainly captured my attention, and the photos whetted my appetite, and I’m sure there are some lovely sugar reduced cake recipes inside the book they’re selling for the princely sum of fifty five US dollars…I suspect you may even be actually be able to scoff a piece of reduced-fat-no-sugar cake daily but it’s certainly not the fat girl fantasy food plan I had first imagined. *Sigh* When will I learn?!

Ironic thing is, if they’d marketed it as ‘here’s a few cake recipes which are quite low on the ‘blow your diet’ richter scale and actually incorporate some healthy stuff too, I’d probably have been first in line to buy one – but I can’t help feeling a bit insulted when marketeers assume that to hook fat girls in, you have to fool them into thinking they can get skinny without putting in the work. That says something about the marketeers. Falling over myself to believe it..? That says far more about me.

Even now, when I’m locked in for the long game, I’m trying out of my socks in terms of sticking to my food plan and I’m basking in the glow that standing in the sweet spot gives me, were someone to offer me the option of getting skinny without changing my broken relationship with food, I’d be out of that sweet spot and all over it like a horsefly on a turd.

Note to self: it’s not possible to live on cake and get skinny. Move on 🙂

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