Of settling and silver linings

When I was on LL if I didn't lose the average of 3.5lbs a week, I was unhappy - and when I put on 1/2lb after a week of flavoured dust, I was distraught. On every other diet, when I've done that thing we all do of working out what I might be able to lose by the summer/ Christmas/ insert occasion of your choice, I worked on the basis of the average of 2lbs a week or half a stone a month. Yesterday, after a stringent, disciplined and careful week I was happy with a loss of 1.5lbs. Because I am NOT average (sadly), but in the lowest quartile. Actually probably pretty near the bottom of that quartile!

So, a quick look at the scores: I am now Porky.6 1/2lbs, I have lost 3.5lbs this month and my batt(l)ing average is 6lbs in 18 weeks.

Yesterday was not a good day. It SHOULD have been, it had every appearance of being - and aren't they the worst ones? Work - we're in our quiet period and it's insanely busy. I've spent the last couple of days trying to persuade people that just because they have a gun, they shouldn't necessarily use it to shoot themselves in the foot. We're talking metaphorically, people. And I'm losing this battle. But last night I gave the stern warning that I and two of my colleagues WOULD BE leaving on time as we were off to see the new Harry Potter film.

As it is, we were running slightly late by the time we got to the cinema and it was heaving. We queued to pick up our tickets - the machine did not recognise my card and the film was sold out. We joined a longer queue to try and sort it out - until my antipodean colleague with typical new world chutzpah found the manager and hoiked us off for him to sort it out. (Which redeemed her slightly from her persistently calling Voldemort "Mr V". She's not read any of the books nor seen any of the films and our colleague had given her Potted Potter 101 that lunchtime. She also refers to the Triwizarding Tournament as "Sports Day", sigh.) The manager printed our tickets and we shot into the cinema where the film had started - only to find people in our seats. I went off to summons a member of staff - who pointed out that our tickets were for Monday. Yes, I had tickets for the past. I can only think that the website defaulted back to the day I was on it after a delay in placing our order as I know I had selected the right day. Of course I had to reimburse my colleagues so I was £32 down and STILL hadn't seen the film. This was hot on the heels of a similarly expensive error where I had booked a hotel at the wrong Portland Airport in the States (really, WHY would you have two? Isn't that just asking for trouble? Yes, even if they're on opposite sides of a large country). We have a non-refundable room in Oregon when we need to be in Maine.

Then I had a stupid quarrel with bf because I was so upset that I was playing the doormat-martyer. I didn't want to confess my stupidity to him because he was decidedly not impressed with the hotel mix up, but luckily he found it mildly amusing and has given me half the bill for a lunch I swankily treated him to that day as a contribution to my black hole and volunteered to see HP with me himself (he's strangely indifferent).

Anyway I was so upset at my stupidity and at the quarrel that I didn't have anything to eat last night. Not even when my colleague tried to buy me wine or juice (I stuck to water) and I even rejected a chocolate bar she bought me as a pity-offering! She said I "needed to learn to comfort eat"; I really, really don't!

Today a sneaky unoffical WI (well, wouldn't you?!) said I'd lost 1lb from yesterday - but I know it's not a real reading and am not getting carried away. Promise.

Cause and effect

I have had a week of unparalleled virtue. I am a little precipitous because tomorrow is actually the final day of the week but having resisted very nice French biscuits today (and nice Italian ones last week) I feel I will acquit myself with honour (and syns) well intact.

So I should be looking forward to my encounter with SoD with keen anticipation - if not pleasure. Maybe pleasure's going too far.... But I don't have any faith that effort in will result in scales dropping and ballast melting away. It really ought to but somehow it never seems to be that simple. If it were I think that mentally at least, dieting would be a lot easier than it seems to be.

A couple of sneaky illicit WIs showed my weight rising slightly (WTF?) and then dropping slightly - but nothing under what I weighed as last week. Well, 2 days will have passed until the Official WI so my body needs to hurry up and come up with the goods.

For goodness sake.

A matter of interpretation

Sooo, last official WI saw me as Porky.10 1/2, up from Porky.8 1/2 the previous week. I wailed, wept and despaired. And then got on with it. Two days later (last Friday) a sneaky encounter with SoD told me I was Porky.8 3/4. Perhaps I hadn't piled on 2lbs after all? I carried on regardless, grim of face and broad of beam (not the kind on your mush).

After a series of best intentions which nonethless saw me eating more syns than I had planned to, I eventually had 83 syns out of the normal allowance of 105. More than I'd planned by a long way but a reasonable shortfall on the total.

This week's official WI made me Porky.8 (after my shower - disturbingly I was Porky.8 1/4 before it. I really wouldn't have said I was so dirty!). So depending on how you look at it, I've either lost a little less than or about 1lb or I've lost 2 1/2lbs. Who knows? It's down and that's all that matters I guess; I'll just carry on and see what the next WI brings.

Of course, this means I've lost 4 1/2lbs in 17 weeks. Now, I'm pretty hopeless at maths but I think that means it would take me a year and two months to lose a stone. Not a joyful statistic but, as ever, what's the alternative? I just hope that something changes at some point - for the better.

Shutting my cakehole

Today is not a good day. If life is throwing me lemons, they’re hitting me hard about the head and squirting juice in my eye to boot. I will not be retrieving those lemons and making sodding lemonade or lemon cake because I can’t have anything that nice. (NB for nice, read calorific/sugary). I can’t even make myself a honey and lemon to soothe my very sore throat – unless I skip the honey...

Today is supposed to be my choir performance. Unusually I love all the music except for one piece and two of the songs I really, really love. It’s all such fun stuff too and quite different for a choir. But I’m not there, I’m at my desk because today has suddenly become a busy day and I was told I couldn’t go. I’m trying to be brave and philosophical but actually I just feel miserable.

And I don’t feel well – I haven’t since the middle of last week when I got a 3 day migraine so bad that it didn’t respond to my nuclear option of very strong prescription drugs which kill the headache but make me feel generally ill in other ways; I take these as a last resort once or twice I year and I had 4 last week. They only took the edge off – my face still drooped and I lost sensation in bits of my face (very odd). By Sunday I felt as though my legs were made of cotton wool, my head ached and my throat was so sore I didn’t want to talk (a rare occurrence indeed). I hauled myself in to work yesterday because of my choir dress rehearsal and because really I’m too busy to be sick. Yesterday a huge mouth ulcer erupted joyfully and malevolently inside my upper lip.

I’ve had a rather dreary weekend food-wise. I knew that I had to ensure I had spare syns for lunch with a friend on Sunday and my gut-twistingly miserable SoD encounter last week made me realise that I simply cannot have syns to enjoy like a normal person; I am not a normal person. As I have so often proven, I have to starve to lose anything. I don’t really want to literally go that far again, so I thought I had better reduce my available syns from the 105 that a normal person gets to 65. I’ve busted that this week already with 82.5 – and that’s if I resist an overwhelming urge to comfort-eat something sweet.

One of the reasons I found out that I’d busted my syn budget was the utterly depressing news SWise One gave me today (with the best intentions) that although SW says a fairy cake is 6 and a slice of cake is either 6 or 8 (can’t remember which), a cupcake is a shocking and depressing 16-22 syns. I had a wonderful cupcake on Saturday – I had no wine, nothing else so that I could enjoy this cupcake. I budgeted a little more than a fairy cake at 8 syns, just to be on the safe side. And it was delicious – I felt that I could bear most things, scrimping and saving my syns to enjoy this sort of thing once a week. But alas, this appears to be another thing I have to give up. Soon there will only be giving up left to give up!

Bf already said sadly the other day how much he approved of a friend who drinks (alcohol); I know how much he hates that I have a mingy and fearful single glass of wine, once a week. But really, what can I do?

And all this would be more bearable if I were actually losing a reasonable amount of weight.

Well, I am making chicken with lemony pearl barley and leek risotto for dinner tonight – that’s one use for all these flipping lemons.

Munter vs Flab

I am fighting the good fight - I'm still here, I'm still on that wagon. And I've been helped in keeping aboard by all your kind comments. It's an odd thing - I would find it incredibly difficult to actually articulate how I'm feeling to a friend, face-to-face, I just wouldn't know how to start and would feel too self-conscious and self-indulgent. But a blog post? It's different somehow - like writing a diary I suppose. But better because I get to feel your solidarity percolating through the ether. So thanks, really thanks.

I am hoping that the 2lb gain was SoD evilly messing with my mind. I've done a sneaky unofficial WI and my weight was down a (very) little on last week. I'm not taking any chances though - it's not as if I've covered myself in glory thus far anyway. Even if we discount last week's WI, it still means that I've lost a pathetic 4lbs in 16 weeks. I know I have the most sluggish metabolism known to man, but there has to be a way to lose more than this without lopping off a limb or stopping eating altogether. Realistically in this time I would expect to have lost a stone and a half. That would make such a difference. It would mean that I would be below my lowest 2nd-time-around LL - the weight where I started to feel as if there was hope that I could look normal. It would definitely make me feel confident that I could buy a second hand wedding dress, come 2012.

It's pointless though to agonise over this. I'm not there; I'm still firmly in Porksville. Desire alone won't help me to escape - I just can't work out an escape plan at the moment. I've kept my syns low (36 in 4 days out of a possible 60), I'm drinking more water and hoping (hard) for the best.

PS Expert friend pointed out that she actually lost 7st and has kept it off for 5 years. Awe-inspiring, huh?

Pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again. Again.

This is starting to get seriously depressing. There is only so much bouncing back I can do, despite my cushion of blubber.

I had hoped that last week’s pathetic loss was maybe down to the fact that I was about to have my period. I was a bit worried about using my syns over the weekend, but, well, that’s what they’re for, right? And I weighed myself on Monday and was exactly the same so I was hoping for some magic alchemy to happen before my WI this morning – and as SWise One says, the in-between WIs simply don’t count.

Which is a shame as that alchemy has happened in a way. Reverse alchemy, that is. I have managed to put ON 2lbs in 2 days and since my last official WI. This brings my total loss on SW to 2lbs in 16 weeks. If you are capable of working out my average loss, perhaps don’t tell me. I seem to be single-handedly forging new discoveries into miniscule numbers (sort of sub-atom equivalents).

So, what to do? I can’t go on like this clearly and not least because I’m just feeling a bit punch-drunk. Do I go back to WW? Well, I wasn’t doing too well on that either (a bit better I think with the rosy tint of looking back, but not well) and the thought of cutting carbs out again entirely is not appealing – I do like being able to have fat free risotto and pasta. LighterLife? Well, my metabolic expert literally begged me not to do this, I’m not sure bf would be any too impressed and I want to throw up at the mere sight of a milkshake so it doesn’t sound like a great idea (but not one I’m abandoning just yet – at least I lost 1-2lbs a week on it).

What I can’t do is give up dieting entirely, no matter how much that seems like the easiest option. And the most appealing at least in the short term. So I’ve only lost 2lbs in 4 months, but had I been eating what I want, I am sure I would have put on at least a couple of stone in this period. This really is scraping the bottom of the barrel for positives though. I saw all the ads for fat brides in my wedding mag today on my way in and I wanted to cry. Right there on the tube – in public (and as a good English girl I abhor all displays of emotion in public and especially on grimy public transport). I am sitting at my desk in the midst of the usual unpleasantness and despair of this office and it all seems too much to deal with. I badly want to cry right now but it never looks great at work and I do not have waterproof mascara so I’m trying to get a grip. I’m on my own and on call tonight so there will be plenty of time for wallowing in self-pity and self-flagellation then without inflicting it on others.

Aside from the wallowing, my plan is to write down everything I eat next week (done this before admittedly), to drink more water or equivalent (my expert friend reckons that could be a problem – some days I only have 2 0r 3 mugs of green tea in total) and to cut down my syns. My expert friend (she lost c4st and has successfully kept it off for 5 years- yes, a moment’s silence in respect please) lost her weight on a syn-free version of SW. I’m not sure I can go syn-free without killing someone but I guess I can’t have as many as an average person so maybe I'll have to keep cutting down until I find a point where I can lose weight.

I should have an easy week in keeping the syns down as I’m working a 24 hour shift from Saturday morning and so bf is going down to Suffolk and I am home alone. So no companionable glass of wine will be required, no scaled down version of ‘normal’ food, no ingenious ways of keeping to the SW rules whilst eating with bf at weekends (we abandon all attempts during the week). I can eat very frugally (and possibly carb-light in any case I suppose) and see what impact that has. I did have bread a few times over the weekend (as a HEB) – with a smear of butter - so that had better go for starters. I feel pretty sore about my self-control around booze and pudding though – I stuck to one glass of each, and whilst the others had 2 meringues with cream and fruit, I had one with fat-free yoghurt (and fruit) and I GAVE MY CHOCOLATE TO BF. I do feel that this sort of thing really ought to show up on SoD!

I’m also considering going to a SW class – I finish choir after next week so will have a bit more time to give up another evening. I could try it out for a couple of months and see if the long trek makes a difference. Logically I can’t see how it could but desperate times call for desperate measure I hear.

From my mouth to SoD's ear

I felt the Readybrek glow of smugness when on Sunday I turned my back resolutely on having a hotdog for supper (made at home I hasten to add) in favour of a rather lacklustre omelette, having discovered that a single hotdog was going to be 17.5 syns – eek! Mentally I pointed out my virtue to SoD in meaningful tones.

Actually I had all my syns this week which made me nervous. And I was right – it seems that SoD is actually deaf in at least one ear. I have lost ½ lb. Now, I wouldn’t mind if I consistently lost ½ lb because that would be 2lbs a month, which whilst pitiful, is progress of a kind. But it doesn’t work that way; sometimes I put a bit on, sometimes I stay the same, sometimes I lose a bit but the net result is not impressive. I have just totted it up and I have lost a grand total of 4lbs in FIFTEEN weeks. Yes, you read that right. I am too depressed- and too mathematically challenged - to work out my weekly average from this but it’s less than ¼ lb. What to do? I just don’t know. I’m hoping that some sort of inspiration – divine or otherwise – will strike – ideally before I reach the point of hysteria, panic and devastation.

To distract me from impending feelings of doom, I have been thinking about our holiday to New England and New York (I thought I better write it in full as I appalled a US friend by referring to 'New Hants' - for speed, people - she was audibly shocked). I’ve booked our flights which scared me rigid as that was the moment of commitment; I am still not sure we should be spending (so much) money on this but I am also excited. I have been pouring over reviews on Trip Advisor and trying not to choose B&Bs on the basis of ones that serve free cookies in the afternoon. Is this what is meant by Land of the Free? God bless America, indeed.

Dr Beat(en)

Another week, another WI, another disappointment. I put on 1/2lb; I realise this isn't exactly earthshattering but the fact is it's moving in the wrong direction - albeit at snail pace. Unfortunately when I DO manage a loss it's at a similarly unspectacular rate so I can't even take comfort there.

It's particularly tough at the moment as work is unrelentingly hellish and machiavellian and the urge to comfort eat is almost overwhelming. Results like this week's WI encourage insidious thoughts of 'oh well, I may as well eat what I like then'. I have kept a grip on this but I have to say it's been the toughest yet.

I'm on call tonight so bf has gone down to Suffolk without me - I'm going when I clock off tomorrow. It means I won't get there until lunchtime so no long walks this weekend. I have to say that, much as I love walking, I'm not convinced that it actually has much bearing on actual weight loss (just as well I love it anyway!).

Which reminds me, I made my trip to the GP to try and get back in the (bike) saddle. He explained that it wasn't anything to do with the bones (no news to me) and that although it was likely to be soft tissue damage they wouldn't give me an MRI scan unless it reached the point I couldn't walk. I managed not to say that that would make getting to my bike quite tricky.
"Cycling, he told me solemnly, "is very good exercise."
"Great" I said patiently "I know, that's why I'm trying to sort out my knee".
"What" he said imploringly "do you want me to DO?"
Reader, it took a great effort of will not to roll my eyes or say anything too sarcastic:
"I'd like you to make it better" I said politely and pleasantly.
We compromised on a physio referral.

Then he said he had to take my blood pressure and weigh me. I could feel my blood pressure soaring as a result. I told him he was welcome to take my blood pressure but he was not weighing me. He asked why. I explained that when I had asked for help with my weight they had been very unhelpful and although they had referred me to a specialist, they had then refused to diagnose the drugs he had recommended. I said that since they weren't prepared to help me I thought it was best that we didn't engage on that issue at all.

I dread to think what what they wrote on my file!