Woe, woe and thrice woe

All is woe.  Woe, I tell you.  It’s not festive and it’s not FUN.

Firstly, I’m ill.  I’m trying to look at it positively and say ‘ah well, I’ll have it out of the way for Christmas’.  Whilst this is extremely likely to be true, it’s not an awful amount of compensation now when I’m feeling lousy but have to be in the office.  I know, there’s never a good time, right?  It’s only a cold.  The sort of cold that makes your cheekbones (I do have them.  Somewhere...) and jaw achey and tender.  As well as a sore congested throat and feeling weak and wiped out.  Of course my throat feels like I have a collar of too-tight barbed wire.  Because I have to sing on Wednesday night, Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening.  And I love carols’ descants but they are, by their very nature, high.  We have all the in-laws over for a buffet lunch party on Sunday and I’m likely to be mute by then.  Which might be nice for them I guess.

Secondly, I dropped my phone down the loo.  Only for approx 2 secs and it only went half in but it appears to have done it in.  It seemed okay, if a bit flickery, for the first couple of hours and then it got darker and more flicker until..... nothing.  It was not a good phone but it’s on contract until June.  I’ve bought a sim-free relatively cheap replacement but I harbour deep suspicions that it’s not going to be as easy as simply popping my sim into the new phone and skipping blithely on.  I was so upset I couldn’t sleep last night.  Talk about over-reaction!  And that was before I learnt that my photos are all likely to be gone.  Not sure what happens to apps etc.  The new phone is not something that makes my heart sing and not something I want to fork out for – especially at this time of year.  Ho, ho, ho.

Thirdly, this is a weight loss blog, right?  Well, more aspirational than active, admittedly.  I got down to 3lbs below the 2st off last week – but it’s gone back on again.  And I can’t even blame it on mucus as I’m not (yet) snotty.  Perhaps my throat is swollen 3lbs worth.  Hmmm.  Today is meant to be a starve day which might help, but this is extraordinarily difficult when I feel rubbish - I simply don’t have the mental fortitude to cope with the hunger.  On the plus side, I was VERY excited to find that I can have a whole tub of Glorious Skinnylicious soup for less calories than my mug of powder I reconstitute with boiling water: tastier and bigger, what’s not to love?  This will enormously improve starve days.  But I still have to limp my sorry-for-myself way to this evening to get to that point.

Woe.

Ho, ho, ho or no, no, no?

I’m feeling a bit weary of the dieting.  I’m guessing you are too: the world of dieting blogland is oh so quiet.  

I seem to have fallen into one of those deep crevices of dieting woes that is hard to clamber out of.  I had hit a 2st 2lbs loss just before our trip to Devon.  Then I put on 4.5lbs.  Then I put on another ¼ lb.  And then I couldn’t get under that.  On a starve day I can lose 2lbs but a normal diet day will lead to me putting on 1.5lbs.  Now, someone of a relentlessly Pollyanna persuasion would say that this is still a net loss of ½ lb but actually, the reality is that I’m still over 2lbs over my 2stone loss – and over 4lbs over pre-Devon.  And WAY above where I a) feel less frantic and repulsive and b) where I need to be.

There are other nasties in the mix which probably aren’t helping.  I’ve got very bad at not drinking anything during the day again – that may impact.  And I’m just finishing my period.  I certainly feel more bloated than normal. 

But it’s quite hard to keep motivated when you’re not seeing much return on investment.  I think some people use a lack of success to fortify their resolve: for me, I tend to think ‘oh sod it, what’s the point of denying myself if it’s not achieving anything’.  I had wanted to get down to the next stone bracket before Christmas but with less than 5 weeks to go, I think that just over 10lbs is unlikely.  Especially as there will be a few more social occasions in the diary than my usual semi-hermit existence.  So I’m reluctantly revising my target to below my 2stone off (again) -  I’d like to get a bit of a buffer against festive over-consumption so I don’t end up back up here again.  I’m also going to be super-careful where I can over the ensuing weeks to try and achieve this: I’m still going to do my 2 starve days a week, hard-core dieting the other week days and dieting with slightly less vigilance at the weekend but accepting that the odd weekday will be more indulgent than usual, minimising that indulgence as much as possible and trying to offset on those days by particularly frugal with other meals.

This weekend we’re going out to dinner on Saturday.  This kind of encapsulates what I most hate about dieting.  Okay, the second thing I hate most: number one being the dieting with no appreciable results thing.  But I have the familiar pull between pleasure and dread – I love the idea of going out to dinner with my lovely husband, but I fear that I will pay for it, weight-wise.  It spoils the pleasure.  I will of course be mindful in anticipation with as frugal a breakfast and lunch as I can manage but that doesn't reduce the nagging fear.  Or indeed the weight.

Anyway, if there’s anyone still reading this, how are you doing?  How do you manage Christmas and other special occasions – both physically and psychologically?  

Of bags and bag ladies

I had some kinda exciting news last week: I finally dipped below my 2 stone loss (2lbs under, to be precise.  After dieting pretty damn intensively for EIGHT MONTHS).  Yes, well before you crack the champagne and party poppers, I then went to Devon for a week and put on FOUR AND A QUARTER POUNDS.  How is that possible?  I blame the two cream teas - but I swear I was careful otherwise AND we had the most windy, hilly, strenuous hike.  Which involved calf deep mud and recalcitrant horses.  And a LOT of stiles.

Sigh.  But there we go: that is just a happy memory now.  One I need to relive, ideally soon.  Of course, my harsh Libra app now tells me that I’ll achieve goal weight in 2080.  Too right I will, I’ll be a little pile of ash by that point.  Not really the result I’m looking for.  The Happy Scales app is kinder and simply says ‘longer than a year’.  By comparison, that’s kind, I mean.  Would that they did Happy Scales for mere android phones, I’d ditch that Libra: THEN see how you feel huh?  2080 indeed....

It probably won’t come as any surprise that I’m on a starve day today.  Needs must and all that.  Although Friday is a particularly sad day to be ferociously hungry, somehow.  The weekend looks relatively inoffensive since I’m driving P to meet his pal in a pub where I suspect we’ll spend most of Saturday, him on beer and whisky and me on fizzy water (whoo!).  We are however meeting friends for Indian food on Monday to introduce them to the restaurant we’re planning on taking Canadian friends when they’re over next summer (the first set of friends are Brits but living in Canada where access to decent Indian food is almost non-existent.  Hence taking 2^nd set of actual Canadians there when they visit London for the first time next year.  I dare say that visit will involve clotted cream too, now I think about it...). 

Whilst it might now be putting cotton (both thread and denim) under intolerable strain, I bought new jeans in Devon.  Not particularly because we were in Devon - I’m not claiming Devon as a denim-Mecca - just because some of the time we spent there involved us being a short walk into Exeter city centre and I had a captive husband to drag out shopping (Reader: he bought me a beautiful dark green, oh-so-soft leather bag for our 3^rd (leather) anniversary).  Anyway, when I say ‘new jeans’ I specifically mean a size-down new jeans.  They took a little wiggling to get into the first time but no disproportionate muffining happening and they feel comfortable.  I first wore them on a day we had breakfast, lunch AND dinner out which was possibly not wise.  But hey, I was potentially 4.25lbs lighter then (bitter, me?).  And no pudding!  At all!  In all the times we ate out!  It must be the cream tea.  ANYWAY, they fit and it’s only now that I realise the larger ones had slightly too much material flapping about and needing pulling up all the time.  Husband says they look good, bless him.

He also bought me a coat to be used mainly for walking (this one if you’re interested) – I owe him the money which I can pay in instalments.  This was very nice of him but came with the somewhat unwelcome news that my parka-ish coat which I have been wearing makes me “look like a bag lady”.  Reader: this was not the look I was going for.  He’s now campaigning for me to throw the parka away but I’m dithering.  I need a 2^nd opinion.

Lies, damn lies and statistics

I find both a bit confusing insofar as I lose track of how I’ve done in a calendar week.  But that’s not my gripe, oh no.

Libra predicts – based on my goal weight – when I will reach that weight, going on current progress.  Now, I’m the first to admit – bemoan, bewail – that my losses are paltry, but originally Libra briskly stated that the date to reach my goal weight was “N/A”.  I rolled my eyes, decided it only worked in shorter time parameters, admitted that I too was unsure I’d reach that point, and dismissed the faint sting. 

After a few days however, it clearly felt that it had sufficient data.  2030 was its estimate.  I did that cartoon thing where my eyeballs spring out of my head.  2030?  I guess I probably will still care then – I even accept that I will be on some kind of diet for my whole life, but I’d rather hoped that this would be from a point of being slightly happier with my weight – from a few stone lighter, at any rate. 

A few days on and it came up with September 2017.  Still felt like a life sentence.  I’ve worked really hard this week (read: starve days and well-behaved diet type 1 days (week days) and type 2 days (Saturday and Sunday)) – after seeing a small initial spring back up after the type 1 day, post starve day (only ¾ lb the next day and then ½ lb the following day) and then quite a big jump when we went out for dinner (nearly 3lbs!  I didn’t even eat much!), I’ve been very mindful of getting my stats to a more reasonable place.  Having lost a bit over the weekend (2lbs - a bit of an achievement, I thought) Libra ‘rewards’ me with a new stat of June 2019.  I seem to be going in the wrong direction. 

Overall, last week I lost 1.5lbs.  Unlike my apps, I thought this was okay.  I need to find somewhere to record the weekly WIs – as well as the daily blips – now I’ve cancelled my SW online membership.  I think I only managed one starve day last WI period though – I’ll have done two for the next WI.  I’m going to keep on with the daily WIs to see if I can see a pattern.  It does this ‘trend’ thing which I don’t understand – it’s consistently heavier than I actually weigh – which I am hoping will suddenly make sense.  I’m currently rather heavier than my last WI (1 ¼ lb) and with two days to go until the next one.

Still, today is another (starve) day.  As Scarlett might have said had she not had an 18” waist.

Hungry Hippo

I had decided to just have a good, plain vanilla week this week as a move away from adrenaline fuelled biscuit consumption.  But things weren’t going swimmingly with the daily WIs (as you know) and as my goal currently shows on the Libra app as “N/A”, I thought I’d slip one starve day in.  Reader, that day is today.  Because Monday is so sucky anyway, why ruin another day?  It makes sense to me anyway.

I thought you might be interested to see what a starve day consists of.  You might not be, but I always find what other people eat on a diet fascinating.  Which may say more about my weirdness than anything else I suppose.  I suspect that I’m over the magic 500 calories but truth is, I don’t know and I do not think I could eat less.  As it is I feel very odd indeed.  Admittedly not helped today by being on day 3 of a migraine, only intermittently controlled with strong prescription medication.  So, feast your eyes on this little lot:

·         Cappuccino – normal sized rather than American bucket size

·         2 Alpen light bars to be eaten emphatically not together but at the point at which I feel I might keel over – and with as long a gap between as possible

·         An apple

·         A packet soup thing SW is keen on – a Mug Shot – has pasta bits in.  That’s dinner

·         A low cal jelly if possible

Sometimes I cave and have a second apple or piece of melon.  There’s the odd cup of green tea and usually a Pepsi Max.  I’m not counting those...

Will be interesting to see what Scales of Doom say about this tomorrow. I know any sudden drop (and by drop, I mean a gentle downward hill rather than a plummet.  Alas) will be artificial and it will even out when I return to normal dieting on Tuesday.

Unhappy Scale

Sorry for radio silence.  Yes, I’ve kind of fallen off the wagon, no, it’s not as simple as that.

I suppose in many respects I have.  Or at least I am being dragged along by the wagon.  First week post hols I lost 1lb.  I was disappointed.  Then work went crazy.  Absolutely insane.  I wasn’t eating properly as I didn’t have time to so much as heat up a carton of soup, let alone run out for a salad.  I didn’t even have time to drink anything (alcoholic or otherwise... although....) during the day, other than a couple of coffees which were brought to us to keep us going.  And biscuits.  Many, many biscuits.  I don’t even much like biscuits but the combination of hunger, adrenaline and long, long days was lethal. 

And I drank more over the weekend than I would normally do, just to decompress a bit (whilst also having some work to do.  Well, not literally while I was drinking I hasten to add). 

I hoped (pause for hollow laughter) that skipping meals would even out biscuit consumption.  Reader: would you be amazed to know that this was groundless hope?  It took no little mental resolve to get on Scales of Doom – and I found I’d put on the lb I’d lost.

Right, I thought to myself, time to stop the vicious circle.  And having downloaded Happy Scale on my ipad (thanks team!) and Libra on my phone (because I have a particularly crappy android phone) I thought I would force myself to do something I really don’t want to.  Something that some of you have confessed addiction to.  I would weigh every day for a week.  A nice, purposefully empty week, devoid of any kind of social engagement.  My rationale was that this would get me back on track.  After all, my overall statistics are dismal and I’d really like to see them improve – even if I see very little difference in my appearance.  At the moment it declines to say when I would reach my goal, only saying something akin to ‘a bloody long time, love’.

Imagine my dismay, dear Reader, when a solitary day into my grimly determined routine, I find that I have put on an additional 1.5lbs.  Yes, welcome to my day.  My scale may be happy but I am not. 

From feast to famine (a quick, incoherent update)

So, I’ve gone from eating gleefully off-piste to a starve day.  What a crashing return to earth.  Whether I’ll make it through the day on starvation rations as well as a mere 3 hours of sleep remains to be seen though.  To be fair, the holiday eating, whilst not frugal, wasn’t too bad – Canadian portions are not like US ones for instance, and it wasn’t a foodie holiday.  But a lot of wine was consumed (yes, by me).  Some strenuous exercise in the mountains (literally, actually) in cold temperatures too.  Nevertheless, I had to steel myself to get on Scales of Doom today.  I thought I’d put on 7lbs, realistically and from previous experience.  I tried to brace myself for going up a scale bracket – although, of course, there is no way to accept this.  As it was I was thrilled that I put on 3lbs.  Yes, I know that’s a lump of chub but it could be SO much worse – and has been in the past.  Of course, it could still be sneaking its way on but I’m hoping that this is the voice of pessimism rather than wisdom.  That’s 1lb a week.  Really not so bad.

But back on the diet I go.  I’m determined to get the 3lbs off and blast trudge through to my 2st loss and then down to another stone bracket.  Hopefully by Christmas.  For the time being, I’m sticking with SW plus 2 days of starve days a week.

Although I’m pretty hacked off with Slimming World.  I really only continue to subscribe so I can see the weight loss chart but when I emailed to find out how to take a holiday from paying, I was told I could not as you can weigh in from anywhere in the world.  Quite apart from taking issue with this, WHO takes their bathroom scales on holiday with them??  And if you went to a class, you wouldn’t expect to pay.  If anyone knows of an app that does the same thing in terms of a graph, table and predictive line, please let me know and I’ll cancel my subscription.

I’m not quite all there (mentally, I mean.  Physically as discussed I’m slightly more there than last time) due to jet lag and not being well, so excuse the dullness of this post.  However, in summary, we LOVED Canada.  We saw bears (grizzlies), coyotes and eagles, trekked on mountains, white water rafted in the cold rain, went up in a sea-plane, cycled a disused railway on top of (another) mountain, went to a craft beer festival with Mounties and did the wineries of the Okanagan.  And that’s just some of the highlights.  It’s so beautiful, so spacious and so friendly: my commute this morning seemed more brutal than usual by comparison.  We barely scratched the surface of British Columbia and are already planning on going back next year.  Who knows, maybe we’ll end up there permanently.  I bought a pair of Canadian cowboy boots (with the blurb: “for the fashion forward cowgirl”) which ought to guarantee my emigration success.  Yeehaw.

The bear necessities

Reader, I stepped on SoD this morning with trepidation.  I feel so bloated I fear I may pop like Violet Beauregard.  My period is a week late.  My best guess - with a little help from Dr Google - is that it's the perimenopause.  It's early for me - about 8 years before my mum had it.  But as this seems to be a condition no-one talks about, it's difficult to say; I do however have sleeplessness, anxiety and forgetfulness which are all symptoms.  Mind you, they're also symptoms of life, so hey.

But I lost 3lbs!  My best loss for - well, ages.  I was pretty damn good tbh with 2 exemplary starve days (helped by such a crazily busy day at work on Monday that I wouldn't have had time to eat anyway).  Note to self: big work thing at the same time as preparing for a holiday is inordinately stressful.  Actually, the work was less stressful than the packing!  But given a missing, presumed absent period and definite water retention/bloating (my stomach feels huge and I couldn't get my ring off), I feared the worst.  But got the best.  How lovely.  It takes me to a half pound shy of 2stone.  Tantalising and frustrating but I'm being philosophical.  I also know that I'll put on half a stone + over the holiday, even being careful, so it will be a while before I'm back here.  But I'll deal with that post-holiday.

Yesterday P looked and found out that the temperatures for 12 days of our stay will be from mid teens to mid twenties.  Except for our 4 days in the mountain where it's currently -5.  Gulp.  Quite aside from the fact that I'm concerned the bears will have - sensibly - hibernated, I only have a light waterproof jacket and a fleece top and cotton trousers for a day's bear watching.  And we go out at 6.30am each day.  It was far too late to do much about this other than buy a couple of thermal tops and a pair of thermal tights.  Let's hope that the layers thing is not myth and folklore.

So, most of my nervous energy is now focussed on trying to remember to pack everything and fretting about whether I'll be warm enough.  And with that, I need to go and pack more.  Does anyone enjoy packing?  Surely it's not possible.  Even if I fit everything in, I worry I'll be told off for it weighing too much.  We're travelling Premium Economy so get an additional 3kg.  Although we still had to pay almost £180 extra to book our seats together.  Grr.

Right, time and suitcase wait for no woman.  See you in 3 weeks.

A clothe thing

So, the old ‘quick on, quick off’ thing?  Apparently doesn’t apply to me L. I lost 1.5lbs.  There are several points I want to make here:

• SoD itself was hungry – I had to feed it with a new battery (making me late for work) so you’d think it would have a bit of empathy
•  TWO starve days
•  Okay, period is due very imminently so that may have affected it
• TWO starve days
•  I was pretty impressive this week overall
• I had a sneaky WI after the first (of TWO) starve days and had lost 2lbs so with an additional starve day and extra dieting days, I seem to have put ON 0.5lb.

In summary: humph, grrr.  I’m hoping that all is explained by my impending period.  Because after all, what could be nicer than additional chub as the icing on a cake of pain?  Rhetorical question, dear Reader.

In any case I’m on a starve day today – the first of two for this WI week – so I am pressing on.  Next WI will hopefully show a far more impressive loss – and that is what is preventing me salving my wounds with a liberal internal application of sugar (chocolate, cakes, sweets...).

It will also be the last before my holiday as we fly next Thursday.

I had a bit of a holiday related shock (no, not the £ although that too obviously.  And don’t even get me started on the outrageous sum we had to pay BA to book our seats together, on top of the additional cost for Premium Economy (nearly £180 and they’re lousy seats)).  I had emailed the bear watching people to test my assumption that the clothing list was for all year round and I wouldn’t really need to bring gloves.  It turns out it’s 5ºC there at the moment and raining heavily.  Although it may get up to 15ºC.  Um.  I then had a look at temperatures in Vancouver and Kelowna.  I had been thinking it would be mid 20ºs; it looks like it’s more likely to be mid to upper teens.  If we’re lucky.  So all the agonising over whether my linen shirts fitted so I could wear them with jeans and sandals?  Utterly pointless.  As was the 2 hours I spent finding my favourite linen shirt which had been consumed in the chaotic maw of my wardrobe.  At least I’d never ironed them. 

Cue: panic buying loads of jumpers I can’t really afford, bewailing spending the money on a lightweight cagoule since warm is clearly going to be the order of the day, wondering what to wear on my feet if I want to wear a skirt occasionally as Birkos are clearly going to leave me with frostbitten toes and I’m going to have to wear opaques.  Reader: I have ordered some ankle boots to wear with both jeans and skirts.  I’d rather wear a longer boot with skirts but packing complications prohibit this - and I notice that wearing ankle boots with skirts appears to be sartorially acceptable at the moment.  Whether the boots will arrive in time is a WHOLE other issue.  Nothing like a bit of additional stress to spice up the approach to a holiday, is there.

I hardly need to say, do I, that I have utterly failed to meet any of my targets for going away.  Target #1 would require me to be 11.5lbs lighter by next week, hastily revised target#2 would require me to be 3.5lbs lighter by next week.  In 25 weeks I have lost a dismal 1st, 10.5lbs.  It’s very hard not to be discouraged by this.  Nonetheless, I plod on.

The Hunger Games

So, birthday news: I ate too much.  Not everything I’d planned, but enough to know that most of those things were actually quite a disappointment.  The doughnuts really weren’t that great, and having had a minor temper tantrum at P for eating one of mine, I realised that they weren’t worth the calories and threw the other away.  The pizza was very poor.  I felt uncomfortably full for most of the week – I do not like that feeling.  I’m hoping to remember this for Canada as a way of curbing my inclination to try EVERYTHING.  Except the craft beer festival we’re going to in Whistler: I don’t like beer.  No great powers of resistance required there but I’m taking it as a virtuous tick.

Last WI I’d lost what seems to be my usual loss of a measly 0.5lb.  This WI I had to psyche myself up even more than usual to address the Scales of Doom.  I’d put on 3lbs.  I had guessed that as worst case scenario – although I’d hoped that it would be 1lb or even 2lbs.  I’ve heard that if it goes on fast, it comes off fast.  I do hope that’s right for me and my strong latent talent for holding on to blubber.  We’ll find out next week.

In fact, I’m hoping to blitz that off extra quickly, due to my new Project Panic Plan.  Only Mrs Spoon responded to my idea of combining 5:2 with SW – and she thought it was a bad idea (for, I have to admit, very valid and astute reasons).  Obviously I’m taking a single voice of caution as an otherwise ringing endorsement.  So, at least until I go away, I’m trying to do two starve days per weighing week – my version would be 3:2:2, three meagre SW days, two starve days and the weekend which is SW with syns.  I can’t say I’m looking forward to it but two weeks ought to be do-able and also measurable.  Clearly if I don’t get a result, I won’t carry on just for fun! 

Yesterday was in fact my first starve day.  Spurred on by WI and as I go to choir from my mum’s on a Wednesday and she has never been known to produce dinner, it seemed like a good starve day.  This week my second will be tomorrow – a poor choice for a starve day really but should work for this week.  Next week will be Wednesday and Monday.  I can confirm I was indeed starving yesterday, as per spec.  Hopefully the blubber is melting like Mr Whippy on a hot day.

I actually went and bought Lighterlife stuff for this.  I had seen that they’re selling bars etc through Superdrug and thought it would be an easy way to do two starve days – four of their packs makes up a starve day’s bounty of calories.  But I am not sure I will stick to LL for this.  Yesterday I had a bottle of banana milkshake that was definitely worse tasting than the sachets I used to blitz with ice.  I had a coffee, an LL bar at lunchtime (chocolate and hazelnut: not pleasant but just about possible to choke down) and a ordinary mug shot soup for supper.  I had forgotten (somehow) my pathological fear of anyone noticing I’m on packs.  Friday is to be a chocolate milkshake (I’m already dubious about this – I may ditch it if it’s as unpleasant as the banana), a bar (I’ll give it another try with another flavour), some fruit and a sort of LL pot noodle in the evening.  I like the idea of the bars as they’re discreet and easy but I’d prefer to have something that is palatable – has anyone tried the Slimfast versions?  There was a company that did two kind of muesli bars as a diet/meal substitute that I actually really liked – but this was about 20 years ago and I’ve not seen them since.  I like some of Boots Shapers chocolate bars but I’m not sure that’s a good substitute!

Anyway, my aim is to lose the birthday blubber and a bit more before we fly to Canada in (*squeal*) TWO WEEKS.  I’m still w-a-y behind on my target but I’ll go down fighting.  Not literally I hope.  On the basis of this week I fear I will put on 8-10lbs which no matter how much I get off beforehand will tip me back up a stone bracket.  Gloomy prognosis.

I did the scary thing and tried stuff on.  I bought a new cagoule (oh the glamour) which just about fits – but ideally I want a little more wriggle room there.  Interestingly, I tried on 2 new fleeces and a new rather clingy long sleeved t-shirt on – and pestered P for his opinion.  P is blunt – you know where you are with him.  It may sting but it’s honest and unequivocal.  He thought all the above were good.  The contrast was marked in our differing opinions when I was trying on the clingy, stripy t-shirt/top: “It’s good” he said “it shows off your figure”.  I looked at him in horror “But I don’t want to show my figure off”.  It was £5 in the sale so I’m keeping it – but I fully anticipate putting a lot of tugging work into making it baggier.  Genuinely, I have the sort of figure that is best shrouded in mystery and material.  But bless him.  

Word up

I’ve been thinking about words recently. 

As you may know, I have this ‘thing’ where I feel I’m so repulsive looking that people shouldn’t have to look at me.  Then, for the book club I run at work, we read Wonder by R J Palacio.  It was an endorsement of the very existence of a book club: something I would never have read but really enjoyed.  The main character, August, has a very severe facial disfigurement and the book is about how people react to him as he attends school for the first time.  It made me realise that being fat and ugly is really not so bad, compared to what some people experience.  I wouldn’t say I feel better about myself, but I do feel more humble and as if I should shut up already.  If you’ve not read Wonder, I recommend it.

And then that got me thinking about the words we use to young girls especially.  I have three nieces and I’m aware that I’m always calling them beautiful (which they are) but as if that’s the only thing that matters.  It’s so easy to say ‘hello beautiful’: you wouldn’t say ‘hello nice’ or ‘hello kind’, would you?  I don’t want them to grow up thinking that beauty is the only thing that matters.  In fact, I was a little sharp with my brother the other day when he said to niece no3 ‘don’t go thinking that being so blonde and beautiful will always work getting you through life’ in tones which strongly implied it would.  I said ‘but as she’s sweet natured and kind, that might just do it’.  Niece one is thoughtful, empathetic and hard working, niece two is feisty, clever and strong minded and niece three is sweet natured and generous.  You can’t throw those descriptors around in the same way, can you?  What do you say to young girls you know?  Does anyone have a way around this?

The one step forward week (of two steps back)

It’s very strange.  Normally if I so much as inhale near a pudding, it means no loss – or a gain.  Reader: I had two helpings of Eaton Mess over the course of the weekend.  I was very careful with the booze and had a modest helping of P’s delicious Asian food.  But I also keep getting waves of queasiness which meant that lunch on two occasions was just a small bag of Ritz crackers (small: good, crackers: bad.  Reader, what do you eat when you feel a bit sick and need something to settle your stomach but that’s also diet-friendly?). 

The strangeness is that I appear to have lost 1lb.  I’m certainly not knocking it but I am perplexed, bemused, bewildered.  I’m also wary as I may well pay for it next time.  Not to mention that I’m not entirely certain it’s the case – I’m bad with numbers and I wonder if I put the wrong weight last week.  Hmmm.

This brings my total loss to 1st 11.5lbs in 22 weeks.  S-l-o-w.  I think it’s unlikely now that I’ll make 2st before I go away in 4 weeks, given birthday week (more of which below).  I look at my supposedly motivational trollbeads bracelet with its single bead on and it makes me sad.  It really needs some friends.  It’s going to have to wait – I’m 2.5lbs off my 2st and don’t expect to see it any time soon.  And I certainly won’t make my target for my holiday which would be another 10.5lbs – that’s light years away.  Or more literally, next year.  That was supposed to be a realistic target!  Wow, did I ever fail at that. 

So, the birthday week.  Well, weekend.  Well, couple of days. I was saying ‘week’ as that’s a WI period.  Rather neatly, I next WI next Wednesday.  That is the Night Before Birthday (when all through the house, not a creature was stirring.... oh, wait) when after work P and I will be going for 2-3 cocktails, followed by dim sum for dinner at Yauatcha.  Now, as birthday meals go, it’s not too bad – no rich sauces, no mammoth portions, no pudding.  But cocktails?  Not so good.  Although I’ll have to walk c4 miles in to work due to the tube strike, walk to the hotel bar for cocktails, then walk to the restaurant, then walk back to a station to start a convoluted trip home.  But as we know, exercise has no impact on my weight. 

The following day I’m buying doughnuts from Bread Ahead for the family (salted caramel and honeycomb anyone?  Yes, me too), then my two little nieces are coming over with my mum for lunch (dim sum again – different place, something of a coincidence because they LOVE dim sum and we have a good place near us).  Then down to Suffolk and pizza for supper (and wine) with a doughnut chaser.  I then have afternoon tea the following day with my best friend and god-daughter (in lieu of breakfast and lunch but still).  That’s it.  Although I’m sure we’ll have a bottle of fizz at some point, usual service will then resume.  I know this looks a lot, but actually I’m trying really hard not to turn it into a whole week of hedonistic over-indulgence.  But obviously I’m going to put weight on.  We’ll be hiking – but see above. 

Then I have to put my back back into it to try and lose that birthday present of extra blubber in the next 3 weeks before we fly.  My prediction is that I will lose the weight I put on in birthday week but it will take those 3 weeks – so, in all likelihood, this is my flight weight.  As it were.  I need to start thinking calmly and practically about clothes for holiday on this basis, rather than lying awake in the wee small hours fretting myself into a frenzy over it.  I need to try stuff on (I HATE doing this) and work out what I need to get.  I don’t want to, but I must.  Better now than a last-minute panic, exacerbated by nothing-fits-panic.

A whale of a time

It’s been an interesting weekend.  And I mean that APART from my baking my first ever catastrophic failure of a pavlova, breaking down on the hard shoulder of the M11 in pouring rain and our drain blocking up and emptying into our bath.

We had friends to stay for the weekend down in Suffolk.  She is probably my most beautiful friend (and I am, pretty universally, the ugly one with all my friends).  Typically of her matter-of-fact attitude, she doesn’t exactly shrug off compliments but says it’s just luck and genes – nothing she can actually take credit for.  This is true of course, but also she works very hard at fitness.  When we hadn’t been friends that long, she ran the Marathon, despite hating running.  I massively enjoyed her rejoinder to all the people saying: “Was it amazing?  Did you love it?  Was it the best experience of your life?” to which she’d say “Have you ever run a Marathon?  It’s 26 miles of hell.”  Her latest bout of insanity is something called Tough Mudder which sounds, by even the keenest, fittest point of view, to be utter purgatory, lightly disguised as an obstacle course.  So to her usual work in the gym (and she still does run) and cycling into work, she’s doing a lot of circuits and pull-ups to increase her upper body strength. 

So she can take credit for some of her good looks – she works hard on her fitness.  She’s always looked pretty amazing but I can see the difference in her sculpted shoulders and very tiny waist of all this upper body stuff.  Am I jealous?  Not really.  I’d love to look like her, but I don’t resent her attractiveness.  I had a moment of considering going back to doing weights – which I never minded (no-one could actually enjoy weights but it’s okay) but tbh, I think I’d have to lose a LOT of blubber before you could see any sort of muscle definition or leanness.  It’s something to consider for when I’ve dropped a few stone.  HA!  I’ll have a few years to think it over carefully then! 

When I did weights, I suppose I must have been stronger, logically, but there was no visible difference.  Nor did it make any difference to the scales.  Which didn’t give me much incentive to keep going.  I used to be mystified by the absolute lack of impact of any type of exercise on my weight – but I’ve subsequently discovered that there is a small proportion of people for whom that is the case.  Not running, not cycling, not gym work, not kick boxing (which I did enjoy), not classes, not pilates.  No effect whatsoever.  Nada.  That would be MY lucky genes then.  Sigh.

My friend and her husband have travelled quite a bit – both being outdoorsy, intrepid types.  I was listening to her talking about swimming in gorges in Australia and I cannot imagine – I literally cannot begin to envisage – not being so stressed about what I look like that I could enjoy such a thing.  I haven’t swum for years – and certainly not where people might see me (and yes, the middle of the Australian Bush counts).  I was marvelling at the concept of just stripping off and enjoying the moment.  It’s akin to riding a unicorn bareback in the level of comprehension I can bring to this.  My epiphany didn’t go so far as thinking I could or should do this (the stripping off, not the unicorn riding) – it wouldn’t be fair to mankind generally, quite apart from anything else – but next year we’ll be having a more modest holiday and are talking about hiring a villa/gite in France.  It would be amazing if I could be in a position where I didn’t have to fret about my appearance and only concentrate on enjoying the moment.  It’s a year away.  Surely even I could get to a reasonable size in a year?  It would make SUCH a difference to my enjoyment of a hot holiday if I could wear decent clothes and if I could swim, without feeling (and indeed looking) like a less aesthetic whale, it would be amazing.

SoD it

It’s a funny thing: good behaviour can go largely un-noticed by SoD, but the slightest transgression is punished with alacrity.  Reader, I put on ½ lb this week.

I guess I knew that it would happen – there was wine, there was lunch out and there was an un-wise incident with sweets – but, foolish as it may be, I couldn’t help but hope.  Not least since I did quite a bit of walking/hiking and was strict apart from the transgressions outlined in my last post.  I can feel myself sliding – the temptation to say ‘oh sod it’ is strong and beguiling.  Not least since I don’t stand a hope in hell of making any of my goals ahead of my holiday - which makes me panic AND dispirits me.

And that’s another ginger whinge: one of the (many) things I most hate about being fat is the blight it casts on what should be an exciting event.  Every party, every wedding, every social occasion and every holiday are marred by the anxiety caused by my weight.  In this instance, I had in mind a slew of linen/cotton shirts that I wanted to take to Canada to wear with jeans (I imagine I’ll be in jeans around 90% of the time, with the remainder in hiking scruffs).  I’m no longer sure that they’ll fit.  I admit, I don’t know because I’ve not tried them – mindful as I am about the potential there for soul-destroying tailspins – but I suspect, strongly and darkly.  Also, my walking jacket which I need for bear watching (there is a prescriptive packing list – who knew bears had such a rigid dress code?!): I doubt that fits.  Last winter I schlepped about in a manky fleece or a very un-waterproof cotton parka thing.  Neither of these will cut the mustard with those sartorially-precise bears. 

It is perhaps the epitome of joylessness to buy clothes because the perfectly good ones you have are too small.  You feel bad about yourself and you’re disinclined to spend much because you don’t want to be in that predicament – and certainly not for long.  This is, of course, a vicious circle.  And that’s the positive spin (yes, of the circle, stay with me)!  Because that’s assuming you can actually find what you want – a problem for anyone, no matter their size of course, but exacerbated if you’re fat.

I really don’t want to let this spoil my holiday.  And in fact, it won’t – once I’m there, it will be wonderful.  It’s just the next 5 weeks and fretting and/or agonising and/or freaking out about what to wear/pack/buy in the meantime.

And I’m not going to give in to the ‘sod it’ whisper.  There will be treats around my birthday – I don’t need to slide into that 2 weeks early.  I need to get as  much blubber off as possible – even if it won’t be, can’t be, nearly enough (or even my very reasonable goals).

With that in mind...

Fatloss Forecast

Rather gloomy actually, aptly enough (looking out of the window).  We have friends to stay this weekend.  We’ll be hiking (although not hiking them into the ground as we’ve done in the past), but as discussed, this makes sod all difference to my weight loss anyway.  Disappointingly.  We’re having a light lunch at a pub, mid-hike but I think I can choose wisely.  But then P has made his delicious Asian food for supper – beef rendang, Singapore noodles featuring his long-marinated char siu pork, squash and sweet onion curry and coconut rice.  Apparently the rendang has turned out very hot so I might only be able to have a little as I am an utter wuss when it comes to spiciness  – a blessing in disguise here I guess.  I’m making a chocolate and raspberry pavlova.  There will be wine.  All of this is much more than I usually allow myself even at a weekend, even saving my syns up.  I fear another dispiriting encounter with SoD next week.

Be thankful for small mercies

I know it’s in the right direction but ½ lb seems the very definition of being satisfied with small mercies.  It would, in fact, be a whole lot easier to be a whole lot more thankful for bigger mercies.  I would go so far as to say that there is a direct correlation between the thankfulness and the size of the mercy. 

Having said that, I might eat my words after my abasement to SoD (Scales of Doom) this week.  It’s been a trying week – physically and psychologically.  And whilst SoD is very happy to ignore sterling work, it pounces (metaphorically admittedly) on any evidence of transgression.  And I’ve transgressed.

I’ll spell out the evidence of my syn sinning.

·         Exhibit 1: Okay, it was the tube strike.  I was SORELY provoked.  It normally takes me c50 mins to commute to and from work: Reader, it took me 2 hours 45 mins to get in and 3 hours 20 mins to get home.  I live around 12 miles away from the office.  Ask yourself: what would you do?  What would anyone do?  Yes, I stuck a bottle of wine in the freezer and drank just under half a bottle.  And as I’d had to skip lunch due to a very long meeting, I had a Boots Shapers bar and small bag of diet popcorn on my way home.  Which probably stopped my passing out or eating a fellow passenger but is distinctly not SW friendly.

·         Exhibit 2: Saturday.  I was making crab linguine – we had a nice bottle of wine to go with it.  There was a kitchen/ingredient malfunction which meant that the pasta was as tempting and understated as a particularly fishy cat food.  We finished the wine whilst disposing of the evidence and rustling up something else from a dearth of choice.  This required red wine.  I must therefore have drink ¾ of a bottle (husband valiantly taking on the lion’s share).

·         Exhibit 3: Sunday.  We had friends come across for lunch.  I chose really carefully but I had a pudding.  Worse than that, dear Reader, it was a poor pudding.  Is there anything more annoying than calorie consumption that’s not worth it?  It was a chocolate and raspberry pot with two mini macaroons.  The macaroons were stale and I left one (one?  Why not both?  WHY?) and the mousse was not chocolatey enough and the layer of raspberry jelly on top was irrelevant slime.  Reader: I ate it.

·         Exhibit 4: today.  I have had no lunch but instead have eaten chewy sweets which a colleague brought back from Germany and some Toffifee (okay, I love Toffifee).  I now feel ill in two parts: one physical from a surfeit of sugar and the other guilt-induced.

I am feeling fed up with the diet tbh.  It’s bound to happen from time to time – co-incidentally after a miserly result perhaps!  But the important thing – the thing I MUST remember – is not to let this disintegrate into a slow (or rapid) decline into calorie-fests.  Tonight I’m having a chicken breast with green beans and some greengages.  That needs to underline the end of the sugar insanity.  Tomorrow is yoghurt, berries and my HEB of cereal sprinkled on (I really am not keen on fat free yoghurt), with my HEA of a coffee, a cold chicken breast with salad and fruit for lunch and salmon chilli burgers with courgettes for supper and some more fruit.  Then it’s WI on Wednesday morning – if I’m not too chicken.  Cluck, cluck...

Mirror, mirror

A bit of catharsis.  Bear with.

I think I’ve put a fair amount of effort into this weight loss malarkey.  I’ve retained (thus far) my determination and, largely, my senses of humour and of proportion.  But yesterday I had a wobble and I’ve not got over it yet.

I was meeting my best friend after work – it was her birthday.  I put a little more thought into what I was wearing and this included a skirt which was very slightly tight but that I think it’s unlikely I could have fitted into at all at the start of this process.  I do not look in mirrors but I imagine I must have glanced to ensure it was okay (ie the slight tightness was not perceptible).

Yesterday I was feeling a flicker of self satisfaction – that I was in this skirt.  And then I inadvertently caught sight of myself.  I don’t look in mirrors for a good reason – the same reason I hate shopping – because I cannot face the unpleasant reality of my appearance.  And there I was looking revoltingly fat – and just plain revolting.  Reader, I looked hideous.  That flicker was ruthlessly expunged and replaced with a searing sense of shame.  I wanted to bolt for home, to go somewhere that people couldn’t see me.  I couldn’t of course but it was the triumph of practicality over every instinct. 

It really brought it home to me – doesn’t matter that I’ve worked really hard and that I’ve achieved a (very) small measure of success: I was hideous and I am still hideous and I will still be hideous for many a stone yet.  I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up until I was 3st lighter.  I know it’s going to take forever – and I know I’m prepared to plug away at it and try my utmost to get there – but I also know that every experience like yesterday causes a bit of me to die.  Shame that bit doesn’t show up on the scales as loss.

Bosom buddies

Who knew a t-shirt could be so weighty?  When I removed it, I had lost 2lbs.  Apparently, it weighed 3/4lb so maybe the 2lbs is a bit of a cheat but I could do with a good result to cheer myself up with - so I’m taking it.  Naked supplication to SoD seems to be the weigh way.  Or maybe it’s just that my nakedness terrifies it into submission (which would be understandable).  Either way, it’s my modus operandi from now on.

This means that I’m now 4lbs off having lost 2st since I started this diet 4 months ago.  It’s been slow – far, FAR slower than I would like – but I’m sticking at it whilst the inching downward trend continues.  But I am contemplating combining it with the 5:2 (ie doing both) at least until my holiday.  What do you think?  I saw an ad which says LighterLife do their packs through Superdrug for 5:2 – and if I were to do it, I think not thinking of or preparing food for those 2 days would help me.  It takes the agonising over food out of the equation.  When I did LL (years ago now) there was a very limited range and the bars (which sounded the nicest) were pretty foul, as were the soups, but it looks like things have changed – it would be trial and error I guess as to which ones were palatable.  I could do it Monday and Wednesday and WI on a Thursday.  What do you think?  I’d really like to boost my weight losses to a steady 2-3lbs a week, even just for the next month and a half....

This week has been aided by skipping a couple of meals, being very strict (as ever) and having little in the way of social engagements.  In fact I went to a work leaving do and drank only water – AND shunned the chips provided.  This is positively heroic, I'm sure you'll agree.  Especially as cocktails were on two for one.  

I’ve cautiously gone back to former bras - every now and again.  When I was wearing them a few months ago, they were leaving welts and bruising on my body.  Not to mention discomfort from mid-morning which turned into actual pain by midday.  They left welts so deep that the skin turned blue.  I bought larger bras but now some of them seem a bit baggy (mainly the ones with fuller cups - my cups are NOT runneth over).  Of all the places to lose – well, not inches but probably multiple - millimetres, I’d have chosen my stomach, bum or thighs first.  It’s true that I have a ridiculously comedy bosom but somehow that helps at least distract from the area from the waist downwards (at least, it does for me as I can’t see past them...).  In the same way I have lots of clothes of descending size, I also have lingerie of smaller (well, mostly back size, the cups seem to stay the same) size: at some stage, I decided I was too grotesque to have matching sets so my current bras are coupled with horrid dreary cotton multi packs.  It would be nice to get back to the size where I have matching knickers to go with the bras.  That's a further size down however and I'm not even wholly confident that my smaller-backed ones aren't going to scar me (mentally and physically) all over again.

Fatloss Forecast

I did meet a friend last night.  I was starving but didn’t eat, just had two gin and diet tonics.  But I don’t normally drink in the week so that's syns/calories that are out of the norm.  I’m meeting a friend for dinner on Monday but will choose carefully.  It should be fine – I’ve mitigated against the G&Ts and will have a careful weekend.  I’d like to hit at least the 4lbs off before my birthday at the end of August when there will be abandoned eating for a couple of meals.  I'm keeping that very much at the front of my mind when temptation beckons.

Ooh la la

It is received wisdom  that a loss is a loss (is a loss etc).  But this is to ignore that some losses are better than others.  Technically I had a loss this week but .... well, I’m only an extra coat of mascara away from a STS with a ½ lb off.  I did say I wanted to get into the next stone bracket and I am.  By ½ lb.  Maybe I need to be more specific in what I want.  So, diet gods, next week I would like to lose over 3lbs.  Please.  I’ve seen scant reward of late for the effort and I’m overdue a bit of payback.

And this, I think, is the crux of my frustration: there’s a lot of willpower, denial and determination on one side and so the balance on the virtual scales here seems as unequally weighted as me and Cheryl Cole on either end of a see-saw.

I did have an incident with French fancies on Thursday last week, following my exceptionally disappointing WI: but I determinedly gave up all syns for the rest of the week, except for wine at the weekend.  But normally I allow myself 4-5 syns worth of chocolate, if I’ve been good.  I was good, I had no chocolate.  I’ve had no chocolate for some time now.  Perhaps that’s why I’m day 2 into a migraine: withdrawal.  I’m dosed to the max on prescription drugs – perhaps they’re to blame for my piddly loss?  Hmm.  

And French fancies?  Really?  So NOT a good use of syns, so NOT a good use of being in a state of penance ever since.  It was definitely a result of being fed up with my - frankly unfair - WI last week.  And there's twisted logic for you.  Merde pour cervelle (me).  Still, to seek out the positives there, I did claw it back and I didn't use it to go 'oh sod it' even that day, let alone that week.  Such resolve is one of those things that I feel ought to be reflected when SoD gives its verdict but is, of course, not.

I know that I need to think of it in the light of ‘if I weren’t trying so hard, what would the outcome be’ which clearly would be me steadily becoming more and more hefty and all the attendant angst this brings me.  Still feels a bit thankless though.  To hit my goal for my holiday I’d have to lose 13 ½ lbs in 8 weeks: clearly not going to happen.  Especially as my birthday is in there.  But, setting that to one side, my next mini goal is to hit 2st off – I have 5 ½ lbs to hit that.  I’m trying not to think that could be 11 weeks away if I continue like this.  Or more, gulp.  And in fact, given that my holiday is 8 weeks away, I could easily be rather heavier in 11 weeks time.  And... STOP.  I can feel myself being sucked into that spiralling vortex of confusion and panic.  A step at a time.  Or a huge leap, in the case of 5 ½ lbs. 

So just to recap, diet gods: 3 lbs loss (+) for the next 2 weeks (at least); thereafter we’ll re-negotiate.  Please.

Fatloss forecast:

Nothing to stop me having another good week.  I have a meal with a friend tonight but have already told him I won’t be wanting wine (migraine sees to that) so will just pick something innocuous from the menu.  And it’s leaving drinks next Tuesday but I’ll be on mineral water – especially since it’s the day before WI.  Next week better just be the week when SoD smiles on me, that’s all.

Green on red

In the red corner (red is for ‘stop’, dear Reader) is the fact that it’s coming up to that time of the month and that I had rice for dinner last night (yes, I know you’re supposed to be able to have rice on SW but hmmm.  Hmmm, is all I’m saying).  In the green corner (and I won’t insult your intelligence, dear Reader, by spelling out what green is for) I have been so, so, so, so, SO good this week.  AND I have skipped a couple of meals.  AND I’d had a haircut – that’s got to weigh the scales in my favour.  I wanted a decent loss this week – 2lbs + ideally – as I am teetering on a stone’s cusp.  A single solitary lb would have me down to the next stone bracket. 

I approached SoD with feelings of hope diluting my usual trepidation – I knew I’d done the work and so, I told myself, I had nothing to fear.  Right?  Wrong.  Nada.  Not a sausage – not so much as a cocktail sausage’s worth of effort rewarded.

You may recall that I said we were dogsitting.  Well, she’s not been well and has been on reduced rations – and more digestible ones.  She’s clearly hungry.  Even by Labrador standards, poor dog.  Last night P said “Who do you think is hungrier?  You or Lily [dog]?”.  Well, all I know is that her portion sizes are larger – and she is smaller.  That’s all I have to say on that matter.

Reader, I was cheated.  There is no doubt about that.  I’d take it up with the diet gods but their customer service sucks.  It means that this week will be harder. I find it harder to maintain discipline and resist temptation when I feel that doing so isn’t paying off for me.  All I can say is that there better be a significant loss next week (I’m talking 3lbs+) in order to make up for this.  And so, I grimly set my teeth, tighten my belt (well, obviously I can’t do that literally) and set off for next WI.

Fatloss forecast:

Again, a quiet week ought to mean that the Green Corner triumphs, pummelling Red into meek submission.  But Green needs to get its finger out – it has the tools, now it needs to up its game.  I’d better stop there on the metaphors.  Team Green though.  Always

Wanted: one wagon upgrade

Usually when there is radio silence on a dieting blog, you know it's because the dieter has fallen off the wagon into a vat of chocolate or (insert naughtiness of choice).  Not me.  Not on this occasion anyway.  Sadly SoD (Scales of Doom) does not seem to comprehend this.  

Two weeks ago I put on 1/2 lb and was trying to keep my cool - and then last week.  Well SoD was causing me much angst by saying I'd either put on 1/2 lb or up to 1.5lbs.  Reader, I couldn't bear to enter it in my SW weight loss thingy.  Cowardice?  Certainly.  We'd had a night out (a 6 course lobster and scallop themed evening with the most delicious raspberry souffle for pudding and mini doughnuts with coffee as well as the other four or five pescatarian mini courses) but I'd been pretty strict to try and accommodate this.  What I don't get is that the rules are supposed to allow for some deviation - ie you're allowed a certain level of lassitude in the shape of "syns" -  (that's deviation, not deviance) and still produce a loss.  This doesn't necessarily seem to work for me.  I cannot see a patten in my losses and this erodes my confidence in me, the diet and the fact that I might ever be less than a blob.

More of that pattern later.

I had a dull old week socially but still had no real confidence that this week's WI would come up with any result.  But I lost 3 1/2 lbs.  I am cautiously very pleased but I am also perplexed and would really like to understand what the actual f*ck is going on.  I have weeks where I lose very little, the odd week where I have a gain - and then, randomly the very rare week when I lose a chunk.  Is it stating the obvious, Reader, to say I'd like more of the de-chunking weeks?

Which brings me to the pattern.  Or rather the embodiment of chaos theory that is my pattern:

Wk 1:  -5 lbs

Wk 2: -1 ½ lbs

Wk 3: -1 lb

Wk 4: -3 ½ lbs

Wk 5: - ½ lb

Wk 6: -4 lbs

Wk 7 : +1 ½ lbs

Wk 8: - ½ lb

Wk 9: -1 lb

Wk 10: -1lb

Wk 11: -1lb

Wk 12: -1lb

Wk 13: STS

Wk 14: +½ lb

Wk 15: we're pretending this never happened (but + ½ - 1½ lbs)

Wk 16: -3 ½ lbs (from week 14)

Yes, I've been on SW for 4 months now.  I've lost 1½ st and an extra ½ lb.  No-one could say I was speeding along.  I think, pending some sort of miraculous acceleration, I will not make my target for my holiday.   And that's not target weight - that's unimaginably far off, I just mean the target I wanted to achieve before holiday.   It's 10 weeks to go - and one of those weeks includes my birthday.  I would say that 10lbs is veering from realistic to optimistic - the 14lbs is an impossibility.  Of course, squelching the idiotic little voice that continues to hope is more difficult.

Then of course I will put on whilst on holiday so the next target will be to lose that.  Then it'll be stone increments - both actual stones and stones off - until I get to the point when I feel like I shouldn't carry a placard, apologising to the population at large about my appearance, which is 3 stone away.  Then on to 'target'.  This could take years.   If at all.

Someone I follow on social media - not because of the dieting thing - has lost 2 ½ st in 10 weeks.  She has less to lose than me.  I am very pleased for her but I would be a liar if I said I was not envious.

I need a nippier, more streamlined wagon.  Go faster stripes would be nice.

Fatloss forecast:

Well, I have a big fat zero in my social diary for this week.  We're dogsitting my mother's geriatric Labrador so evenings out are, well, out.  This ought to lead to a decent loss next week but who knows?  Not me.

The dieting blues

Somehow two WIs have passed since I last put pen to paper (or at least, fingers to keyboard).  I am trying to take from this that the time spent in this period of hard dieting will pass more quickly than it currently feels.  I find dieting to be lonely, relentless and myopic.

Lonely: maybe it’s because I don’t belong to a ‘club’.  Maybe if I were to take my weekly communions with Scales of Doom in public, I’d not feel like this.  But I doubt it.  I’ve been to a couple in the past and found them to be soul-sapping and irritation-raising.  I’m quite sure that one was the model for the Little Britain sketch.  One day the leader – in tones that implied extreme excitement – asked us to name as many different types of lettuce that we could think of.  There was a long, painful silence and the sort of facial expressions that lets you know a small child has just pooed its nappy.  Finally I could stand it no more: “iceburglollorossolamb’slettucefriseecosrocketspinachoakchicorywatercress”.  I did not, dear Reader, say peashoots as there was no such thing then.  And I love peashoots: life’s improved.  Anyway, I never went back – and I dare say they were relieved.  Other clubs I’ve attended have been largely about pushing chemical products and talking to me in the third person as if I were simple.  So loneliness is better, I guess.  The blogging world has stepped into this breach though – to be able to find people going through the same thing is immensely comforting. 

Relentless: it really is as Mad Eyed Moody said in Harry Potter: “Constant Vigilance”.  But it’s exhausting to keep your guard up against food all the time.  There are times when you’re tired, when you’re hungry and haven’t planned ahead, when you want to just see what you ‘feel like’ eating (always a mistake in my case), when you’re up against 10 deadlines at once and want to mainstream sugar, when you just want a day off.  And you can of course do all or any of those things – but you know what the result will be.  It can be depressing – although not as depressing as trying to find things to wear that don’t cause you to look in the mirror and feel the sort of pain and shame that causes your very soul to shrink in horror.  There is no such thing as dieting time out – if you’re not losing, then, chances are (if you’re me) you’re gaining.  And then you’re going to have to get on with losing that.

Myopic: I’ve talked about this before – when your entire world contracts in on you.  The secret relief when social arrangements fall through as you know it will throw you off dieting course.  The way that your mood for the week is dictated by that one encounter with SoD.  The way that you wish the time away from WI to WI because you.  Just.  Want.  Rid.  Of.  It.  The Diet becomes all-consuming.  Somewhat ironically.  Again, the blogging world helps as otherwise my only yardstick is the dieting world portrayed by the media.  And none of THOSE women take 3 months to lose a stone.  Oh no.  THEY lose weight at a dizzying rate.  I am pleased for them and I hate them.  Shameful, I know.  If I could have any super power it would be to eat what I want without putting on any weight.  Yes, above flying, invisibility, super-strength – above ANYTHING.  Okay, radiant beauty would be beguiling, but for me, that’s the same as being slim.  Radiant beauty and a permanent diet or me and able to eat anything?  It’s a toughie.  As it is I strongly suspect I will have to settle for me and a permanent diet.

Last week I lost – as predicted – 1lb.  This week I STS.  I am not unduly surprised as I didn’t have a good week and my period is overdue (nope, not pregnant – in case that’s where your thoughts went).  I panic ate some pretzels and sweets at work during a stressful time and then we went out for dinner on Saturday.  Yes, I tried to rein back apart from that but I’m still not surprised.  This means I have 13 weeks to lose 18lbs.  I know in my heart of hearts I can’t do it (especially as my birthday is in there) but it’s very difficult not to hope and agonise.  Maybe it’s more that my head knows it’s impossible but my stupid heart is too stubborn to believe it.

Fatloss Forecast:

This week (all 2 days so far) has been scrupulously good.  Let’s see what the WI brings (whilst crossing every appendage, obviously).  I may be seeing one of my best friends on Tuesday and next week is looking like a stressful (ie very busy) work week but I’m hanging out for a reasonable loss.  I’ve had a lot of small ones recently – I’d like 2lbs+ please (okay, I’d like 4lbs+ but even I have to be reasonable).  The following week is looking more tricksy with a short work trip to Preston (yes, I know, I live a life of international level glamour) and, more excitingly, a long-booked themed evening at our local restaurant focussing on lobster and scallops.  6 courses.  With wine.  I’m not at all convinced by their wine choices but ready to be converted.  More on this, I suspect, next week – if I get time to write.

May your SoDs be kind.