Category Archives: In the here & now

But It’s FREE!!!

In the here & now, ,

melon drums

The irony isn’t lost on me, that as we speak I’m sitting in the corner of my kitchen talking to you lot about being on a diet and all the time my psyche is focusing less on what nuggets of wisdom will fall from these fair lips and fingertips this evening, and more on whether there are any naughty things to be had in any of the cupboards behind me. Concentrate!

My broken full-filter has come under scrutiny again this week. I hate to keep banging the same old drum but I’ve had to have a bit of a word with myself – it sort of came about because I bought the new phone. Indirectly, obviously but you know how my mind works. It’s a monster of a phone with a huge screen, which I can actually see…revolutionary, right? Even with reading glasses on, the old one had become a challenge so I really only used it for emergency Facebook stalking and phone calls you know?

This one is different. It’s been welded to my hand since I bought it, and I’m using it for everything. Need help wiping your bum? There’s an app for that! At least, I’m sure there would be if I looked. Anyway having a good look around the app store sort of led me to the Weight Watchers’ app which I’d never really used before, and it’s awesome.

Except my daily points seem to be adding up at warp speed, and it’s not afraid to point out a few home truths you know? Like I might just be eating a bit too much. And that’s my problem with the Weight Watchers diet. When they say you can eat as much of ‘these’ foods as you like, they have no points…well. That’s the law then. It doesn’t matter that my full-filter is broken, because it’s free food, right? Free. No points. I can eat as much as I like, LOOK…the book says I can. So I am.

Except it’s not really free is it? I mean it might be free of Weight Watcher’s smart points, but it’s not free of calories, is it? Or natural sugar. Let’s take honeydew melon as an example…I love that, it’s my favourite fruit. But just because it happens to be a free food on Weight Watchers doesn’t mean I have to eat a whole one. Every day.

It did occur to me on Sunday when I was doing the supermarket shop that seven melons felt a bit excessive, for two people. Especially when only one of them eats melon…uhuh.

When I was using the little battery powered calculator thingamabob I didn’t even enter free stuff into it, I mean what’s the point…there are no points in it so why would it matter. But now I’m tracking on the app I’ve realised how much I’m actually eating. Free stuff, you know but still…in industrial quantities it’s sort of against the spirit of the diet, dammit.

Which might be another reason why my weight-loss appears to have stalled. Yes, the pills and yes the widespread guesstimating of points values didn’t help, but whilst that’s all sorted now, I’m having a bit of an epiphany which seems to point to the fact that I appear to have swapped cheese balls for something else I can eat without boundaries.

Right now, the Asshole voice is screaming BUT IT’S FREE!!! IT’S FREE!!! DON’T STOP EATING IT’S FREE!!! like his pants are on fire. And granted, unlimited melon is better than unlimited hob-nobs. I doubt anyone ever got fat from eating too much melon.

But still.

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

Trying My Best To Love It

In the here & now, , ,

hate it

I wonder how much longer it’s going to be until I can say that I actually enjoy doing a workout on this cross-trainer…any ideas? I’m starting to think I won’t ever get there. I mean it’s been two months now since it moved in and spoiled the feng shui in my bedroom, and I still have to force myself to climb aboard the damn thing and show willing.

If I’m brutally honest its very presence annoys me, and whilst I’m grateful for the effect it’s having in helping me build my fitness from the lowest possible base, I wish I could tuck it away somewhere unobtrusive. I guess that’s the drawback of living in a cottage the size of a shoebox, especially when you have a grown up man-child who shows no inclination of leaving home!

Everyone who knows about these things tells me that I’ll get to the point where I can just go into a zone for hours, without batting an eyelid. I’ve stopped calling it the hurt machine now because the reality is, it doesn’t really hurt that much any more. I no longer climb off feeling like I need hooking up to an iron lung and my legs function normally even after 45 minutes of activity…mind you I haven’t tinkered with the harder settings yet so I’m sure there’s more pain to rediscover at some stage. To be fair it’s not the pain I’m bothered about. It’s the boredom.

I’ve tried listening to music whilst I’m beavering away, and if the music’s not helping me get into my stride it’s planted right in front of a TV , so there’s no shortage of entertainment. I’ve got five hundred channels at my fingertips right there, but I still lose the will to live within the first ten minutes. Pushing through pain became the norm, certainly in the early days and I got quite adept at that but I’m here to tell you that pushing through the boredom is proving a much harder nut to crack.

How is it, that I can be completely gripped by some drama or other when I’m sitting in the armchair doing nothing more strenuous than stroking the dog, and yet the minute I’m strutting my funky stuff and breaking a bead of sweat upstairs in front of the same entertainment menu, nothing holds my interest beyond the first five minutes..? I invariably end up risking life and limb flicking through the channels whilst I’m mid-stride and given the amount of moving parts I know that one of these days it’s not going to end well.

I’m thinking maybe its Asshole driven, you know? Maybe there’s some kind of trip-switch in my head where as soon as the cavernous yoga pants come out and the trainers go on, he sprints from his stool in the corner of my head and flicks the switch to ‘bored’ since pain failed to dent my determination and it’s one of the few options open to him. Hell, he’s probably got KPIs to hit like the rest of us, right?

I know what the experts say, about exercise being like a drug and once it gets you it really gets you. I just don’t get it. And that’s a bit of a bummer. I want to get it. I’ve tried really hard and I swear I’m not going to give up but it would be lovely to stride towards it, even just one time, without wishing I could take a lump hammer to the dratted thing and burn the equivalent amount of calories smashing it to smithereens 🙂

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

An Old Shoe In The Gutter

In the here & now, , , , ,

1804626

Do you find it as baffling as I do that I can have a day like Sunday where every minute was a battle, closely followed by a day like today, where I sailed through without one resentful thought about the fact that I was even on a diet? Not a single toss was given. It’s like my head is playing games with me you know? One minute it’s okay, and the next minute it’s not.

I was analysing Sunday’s mood in my head as I drove to work this morning…I have a long commute to work, at least an hour on a good day and often longer so it’s a good time to be alone with my thoughts, you know? And I got to wondering about the inconsistency and lack of logic behind me motoring along nicely for ages with no problems and then WHAM! getting punched in the solar plexus by a rage so strong it kind of shocked me.

It made me remember my teenage years, when I was obsessed with horses. Even way back then I was an all-or-nothing kind of girl. I’d already obsessed for a while over The Osmonds, then the Bay City Rollers, and having gotten bored of them, it became all about horses. Boys came later, but probably safer at this point not to go there 🙂

There was one horse in particular at the stables I used to volunteer at in exchange for free rides, who was my absolute favourite. He was utterly bomb-proof. I could confidently ride out knowing that whatever we encountered along the way, he’d just plod on regardless. Motorbike..? No problem. Pneumatic drill..? Yeah whatever.

Then one day, we approached an old shoe that had found its way into the gutter, and sweet Jesus as soon as he clocked it he took off like a fucking racehorse. It was a shoe!! It hadn’t seen a foot for years, it was completely innocuous and yet it totally freaked him out.

And that was sort of like my Sunday. So we have a new TV. Big deal, right? Who knew it would start such a major meltdown? I wasn’t ready for it and I don’t think I dealt with it too well but actually, unpicking it all slowly in my head is helping me to understand why it might have happened in the first place.

TV was my thing, you know? In my old life, before the diet and before this…it’s just what I did. It’s pretty much all I did. I mean sure, I’ve always had a demanding job and a busy outside-my-front-door life, but once I shut the world out and climbed into pyjamas, the TV was all I had. I’d lay in the chair and watch TV and I’d eat. It was easy, and in the moment it always felt good.

Let’s not talk about the feelings of frustration and self-loathing that would invariably follow as I gathered up the wrappers and got rid of the evidence. In the moment, everything was right with my world. And I think somehow getting our new TV, which is a bigger better version of what we had before tipped me right back into that headspace. I wanted to dive back into those moments before the self-recrimination used to kick in, where I was indulging myself with all my favourite snacks and feeling an artificial sense of happiness.

And that’s the thing, you know? That’s the sound of me hitting the nail square on the head. In the moment happiness isn’t the same as being happy. Being happy is when you can zip up a pair of pants that haven’t fitted you for years. It’s about knowing what you want, and going after it. It’s being able to walk with the dog for three or four miles on a gorgeous spring day and fill your lungs with fresh air. Doing stuff, instead of watching stuff. That’s not artificial, or fleeting…it’s being.

I’m guessing that days like yesterday have to happen in order for me to really work through this shit, one issue at a time.

But I get it, okay? Loud and clear…now enough already. No more please!

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

An Old Life Calling My Name

Biggest struggles

magicYou know when you’ve done stuff for years, to the point where it becomes part of the fabric of who you are, kind of like bolt-on DNA because it’s part of what defines you? It’s really bloody hard sometimes when you step outside of that familiarity you know?

I’ve got to be honest, this weekend has been a toughie. I was glad to get back to work this morning just for a sense of normality. It sounds ridiculous but genuinely, the lure of curling up in my big fat armchair in front of the TV, and not moving except for the odd trip to the fridge was so strong, and I can’t tell you how utterly pissed off I felt because I wouldn’t allow myself to do it.

I felt like a child on the verge of having a maHOOsive paddy because I wasn’t allowed to do what I wanted.  I really surprised myself with the amount of rage I felt inside, I mean I’m so even tempered and easy going it’s a bit of a rare event when the red mist descends. I didn’t know quite what to do with myself.

I was in a sour mood to start with due to the the incident I shall refer to as pillgate. Three weeks’ worth of wasted effort. Dumbass. I set off on a long walk with Charlie dog but I’d eaten not long before I went out, and that, combined with the half-walk-half-stomp – think Whoopie Goldberg crossing the road in Ghost just after she gave the cheque away, if you know the movie you’ll know the scene – gave me a stitch and made my ankles hurt so my poor fur baby got marched to the top of the hill and then back down again, and short changed on the fun stuff.

I was just arsy all day. I was snippy with my mum, and that’s hard to forgive because she’s the sweetest wrinklie on the block. I’d promised to wax her chin since she was starting to sport a beard that that the Ayatollah Khomeini would have been proud of, and I stepped up to the task with a bit too much gusto. I doubt her chin hair will dare poke it’s head out again this side of Christmas.

Plus, I ate a family bag of Maltesers. Fucks’ sake. I might not have been sitting in the chair in front of the TV when I did it (which by the way according to the Asshole means it doesn’t count) but opening the bag and then having to go back to my phone to key in additional malteser points five times until Oh look the bag is empty…well, it’s got naughty child written all over it.

I rebelled against the headlock that this sweet spot has me in, and how ridiculous is that when I’ve had my nose pressed to the window for years trying to get in. But I sort of did it safely…yesterday was the first day of a shiny new weight watchers week and the collateral damage saw 50% of my ‘extra’ weekly points eroded in one hit. I’ll take that. And breathe…

On the basis that the storm has passed and I woke up this morning determined to make that additional pound get the hell out of dodge this week along with a couple of its friends, I think I might just have got away with it.

Days like that really suck. I can not let myself fall back into that comfort zone. I went hell for leather on the hurt machine last night as if my life depended on it, and in some respects it even might. I’m walking towards the magic, and I’m not going back there.

It’s bloody hard though sometimes, you know?

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

Putting Two And Two Together

In the here & now

pills

Well it’s official. I am a muppet. If there was a black belt in muppetry I would have been presented with it this week for sure, although I’m guessing that a fair few folk may raise an eyebrow and opine that it’s well overdue.

I woke up this morning feeling full of energy, which makes a nice change because over the last month or so I’ve been feeling really tired, even first thing in the morning. I’ve been blaming all manner of things.

My Asshole voice has been pointing the finger in all directions, especially towards the hurt machine, (it’s clearly too much too soon, you’re not doing the trek until October so you could probably start your training towards the back end of September…why don’t you use it to hang your clothes on for now and start again after the summer…) walking with Charlie dog (that’s what you pay your dog-walker for, I’m sure she’d walk him on the weekends too if you asked her, instead of just whilst you’re at work…) and most of all my diet (it’s not natural for a woman to avoid chocolate, your body obviously needs it, stop being ridiculous and go to the shop immediately…).

Have I ever mentioned that I have thyroid issues..? Mine is under active, which means my metabolism runs slow. But it’s okay, because I take medication to regulate it on a daily basis, which I’ll more than likely need to do for the rest of my life. Except I ran out about a month ago, and forgot about reordering it from the pharmacy…duh. I mean, it happened once before for a couple of days and nobody died, so it didn’t seem that important.

My boy needed a repeat prescription earlier on the week, which I’d promised to order for him, and I suddenly remembered whilst I was on the phone that I’d run out of mine, so I ordered mine too. Now, all of a sudden, two days into taking my medication I’m starting to feel like I have some energy again.

bulb  Ya THINK??

Remember that additional pound that took up residence two weeks ago which was still welded to my arse last Sunday..? *Nods head* – yep. Well it’s got sweet bugger all to do with my diet or getting complacent – although lesson still learned – and everything to do with the fact that I’d carelessly cut my body off from the thing it needs the most to make everything work. No wonder I’ve been feeling sluggish.

There’s no accounting for stupid is there..? Whilst the Asshole voice was busy hurling accusations left and right, and blaming everything I’ve done in the last 6 months for wearing me out, all the time it was my own stupid fault. The universe let me loose without a responsible adult, and look what went and happened.

So. As I walked the green mile towards my dalliance with the bitch in the bathroom this morning I wasn’t holding out much hope that the extra pound would have melted away this week since I only started taking my magic beans again a couple of days ago. And sure enough the stubborn little blighter is still clinging on. It might take my metabolism a few days to catch up, you know?

I’m so cross with myself. All the effort in the world counts for bubbles if my body’s not able to pull it out of the bag for me without me feeding it a little artificial oomph. Thing is, I’ve never been really in tune with my body and what it’s doing for me since I got diagnosed with the auto-immune disorder so I didn’t make the connection. I’m already feeling the benefit of my medication, and I’ll pay more attention in the future but it’s just frustrating to think I’ve been treading water for the last month instead of moving forward. Dammit.

Still, I guess at least I know that the pills actually do something, right?

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!