Some Q&A...

Things are still going well in my little world, I’m now on Day 33 of being back on plan 100% and have lost another 4lbs. This brings my total weight loss to exactly 9 and a Half Stone. 

To bring this into perspective, that is what my mother weighs!! Admittedly, she’s a diminutive lady of 5 feet One inch (my father was 6’4”, they made a curious couple! I seemed to have come out somewhere in between at 5’7”). Anyway, I am now ‘officially’ a size 16, which is pretty good considering that I started off in size 26 jeans..). Clothes shopping has become a joy now, although I have to say, I do find that the choice is suddenly a little overwhelming. I had been so used to looking for my size first before even considering the style, that it took a little while to register that I’m almost ‘average’ now… 

A week or so, I got myself measured for a new bra, and discovered that my size has shrunk from a 46G to a 36G. It seems that “the girls” haven’t shrunk much, but my general circumference has. My husband like to “measure” my progress by seeing how much further he can get his arms around me when we hug, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d been wearing some old bras with a 40 inch measurement in the interim but have now had to invest in some ones that fit me correctly. And a whole new world has opened  up for me – pretty  bras with under-wiring…so much choice…Gone are the days of opting for the matronly support ‘scaffolding’ in heavy and purely functional duty lycra …now I can flaunt my norks in delicate lace and a rainbow of colours. Naturally, the matching panties had to be purchased, too – goodbye Bridge Jones knickers.. …hello lacy lingerie…My husband is not displeased…..

We received an invitation to a family wedding yesterday and I've just booked the hotel stay. Unfortunately hubby can't get the time off but I'm travelling up with Mum and the kids. There'll be family members who haven't seen me for two or more years (note to self - do not upstage the bride!!). The Big Day is July 16th. I've worked out that an average loss of just 2lb per week would take me 6lbs beyond my Target of 11.5st (a 12.5st loss). I don't think that's too ambitious, do you? Certainly something to aim for…

Talking of targets, yesterday I did a brave thing. On my public Facebook timeline, amongst a post mentioning my latest weight loss, I "outed" myself, with an admittance of my starting weight. So now everyone knows, not just the selct few I trust. That number has spooked me for too long, but I decided that there's now enough distance between me and it for it not to sting so much anymore. It was terribly shameful but I think I'm getting over it now. I had a wonderful outpouring of support and encouragement from friends and I lost count how many times I was called 'inspirational' (well, I am an ENFP personality type - we are deemed "the inspirers". To find out your type go to www.16personalities.com ). That being said, I didn't set out to put myself on a pedestal or inspire intentionally, and to be lauded in such a way makes me a little nervous. Being the People-Pleaser type, I am hyper-aware of the opinions of others (probably far too much) and  I worry that I might be seen as vain or self-promoting by some. Maybe I am- I’ll have to work that out - there is a very thin line between self-confidence and self-centredness. However, I do believe with all my heart that if something good happens to you that may benefit others, then you are duty bound to share it. The same goes for publicising your mistakes. One of my mantras id "if you can’t be a good example then at least be a terrible warning".

My husband, my rock in all of this, entreats me to be cautious about the attention I am receiving for my weight loss, and rightly so. He has seen how my ego can deflate very rapidly when the interest in me wanes. And that is when I am most at risk of reverting back to old, unhealthy habits. He worries that when the novelty of this journey has worn off that I will become complacent. He does have a point, and it is something that I must be very vigilant of. However, I do have a counter argument – I have been overweight, in varying degrees but consistently, for around 30 years of my life. I am only now experiencing the “novelty” of approaching a healthy shape and size for the first time since my mid teens. I think it may take a long time to get used to that, and a fair while for the novelty to wear off.

Going back to my Facebook post, among the responses, I've been asked the same few questions by several people. The first one being along the lines of "do you really need to lose much more weight?" or warnings "not to waste away". I'm grateful for their concern, but am very cautious. At 14st 7lb, I am still classed as Obese, not even overweight yet. I would have to lose another 3 stone to get into the top end of a normal BMI. It appears that, on the outside, I carry my weight pretty well right now, but for me it’s not just about physical appearance. In fact, it's primarily about my health. So that comes first, and if the health guidelines say I should aim for a healthy BMI that's what I hope to do. It's not a figure set in stone. If I hit a plateau around the 12st mark I may well review it, but that's a bridge I will cross when I come to it. 

The next question I get asked is "what are you going to do about excess skin?” 

My answer:  I don't know. I am starting to notice some "floppy bits" mainly around my arms, stomach and underneath my buttocks but I'm trying not to let that bother me. It's my arms that I'm most aware of - the dreaded 'Bingo Wings'. My arms were very, very big and tight with fat before I first started and now there is a distinct 'underhang'  left. I'm in serious jeopardy of resembling a Flying Squirrel. On the positive side, if I ever fell off a cliff (and I do only live six miles from Dover), I could probably stretch out my arms like Batman and glide to the beach below in relative safety.  Of course, I'd rather not do that (after all, as my blog moniker states "IAmWonderWoman" not Batman, and she is sensible enough to employ an invisible plane) . So, as summer is not that far away (believe it or not) and I'd like to be able bare my arms without feeling too self-conscious , I'm ramping up the exercise in the hope that some bits will tone up. In fact yesterday I bought a set of 1.5kilo wrist weights to wear during my Zumba class. I've already warned people to steer clear of me during class when I'm flailing my arms around, otherwise there could casualties and concussions. A mis-timed arm swing and I'm even at risk of knocking myself out!!! A stumble with a blow to the head in the restrictive space of village hall occupied by 20 plus prancing ladies and we could all go down like colourful dominoes….

But even those efforts may not resolve the redundant skin issue. I'm not deluded enough to aspire to have arms like Michelle Obama, so I'm going to have reconcile my head with the fact that this may just have to be a cross I have to bear. I don't think I would be prepared to resort to surgery (although I have set up to record a series, which I will watch with interest, called My Extreme Excess Skin due to show on TLC in early February https://press.discovery.com/uk/tlc/programs/my-extreme-excess-skin/ ). At my age, I don't believe that it's wise to subject my body to invasive and risky surgery for cosmetic reasons, I'm no spring chicken and recovery rates deteriorate as you grow older. More importantly, I have a relatively young family that I intend to stick around to see grow up, and would not want to do anything that might even very slightly put that at jeopardy. After all, it is surgery, and that carries its own risks. So I will do what I can but I may have to live with my “imperfections”. Just as some women who have borne children consider their stretch marks to be battle scars, perhaps I should do the same. After all, everything comes with a price, and I should be grateful for all the amazing benefits my weight loss has brought me so far….

The last of the “Holy Trinity of Questions” that I am having to answer is “are you worried that you will put all the weight back on when you eat normally again?” I touched on this in my previous blog, but the short answer is “yes, I am afraid, and the closer that I come to target weight, the stronger the fear becomes". Just as the land on the horizon is becoming more visible as I row closer to shore, I am increasingly aware of the sharks that populate the waters. The Cambridge Weight Plan has become my lifeboat rescuing me from drowning in a sea of health and sanity threatening behaviors, but, just like any ship, it can only take you so close to shore, and then you have to get out and swim the final stretch. It’s a thought that really daunts me, but I know that it is something that I have to muster the courage to face. A true case of “feel the fear, and do it anyway”.  Of course, right now it’s too far to swim, but it’s never too soon to start preparing yourself for what you know is coming ahead. Preparation and awareness are so important in any journey of self-discovery  and self-improvement.

I have a job interview this coming Monday. My workplace is under threat of closure in a couple of years so now seems like a good time to try and make a move. About three years ago, I was in a very bad place emotionally and utterly hated my job. I had returned from an  idyllic five-year stay in Cyprus and placed in a post that was not my choice. It was, however, a job and I had to accept it. Grudgingly, very grudgingly. I alienated myself with my colleagues and was under threat of disciplinary action because my attitude was so poor. In my own twisted head I was bitter at what my life had become – a dreary job on a dreary island and I exuded this negativity from every pore. I felt entitled to something better but believed I was powerless to change it. I applied for job after job after job and received refusal after refusal after refusal. I saw myself a Big, Fat Failure.  I think around then, although I was pretty overweight to start with, I really started to pile on the weight. Food became my favourite crutch.

Over the last 18 months or so, I have started to re-examine my attitudes, behaviours and motives and everything in my life has improved exponentially. The weight was the final piece in the puzzle and I could only tackle it once I had sorted the demons in my head. Now I am even happy at work, despite  still doing the same job, and am much more successful at it. 

One day, something clicked inside and I finally got the message that life was trying to deliver to me – that the power to change and grow existed within me, and only me. Nobody else could do anything  to make me happy- that was totally and utterly my responsibility. Only then did I begin to grow.

So why am I deciding to try and move on in my career now? If it ain’t broke, then why try to fix it?
Well firstly, it is always important to push and improve myself. I need to seek out and try new challenges and it feels like the time is right to go for something else. Of course, life might have other ideas. I may not get any of the other jobs (in fact, I’ve already been turned down for one I applied for before Christmas) and then I have to look at my situation and see what this experience is trying to teach me. Every stumble, every falter is an opportunity to learn, we just have to have the courage to face the lessons.

 For me, while I am content and competent in what I do, this is the best time to make a change. Changes that come from desperation and an urgent need to escape, in my opinion, come from the wrong motives. I’m sure at the job interviews two years ago I exuded desperation, the sense of urgency to get away from my current situation was leaking from every pore. That is not attractive, literally or metaphorically. No wonder I didn’t get the jobs. Life still had a few lessons to teach me about my present situation – running away was not an option. In the same way, I believe wholeheartedly, that it is only wise to approach weight loss when you have garnered a degree of self-love. Trying to transform yourself from someone you hate to someone you hope you can love is too tall an order. If you are your own enemy, then you have no real reason to help yourself. Nobody with any sense would offer themselves up to their adversary.  It takes a special kind of courage to stretch out a hand to the detested part of yourself within and say “look, I know we’ve not seen eye to eye so far, but I think if we work hard together we can be friends. Let's try to get to know one another and find some common ground”. This takes time, it takes effort and energy. It takes courage. You have to dig deep, face some scary thoughts, and bring them out into the open, Just like vampires, negative feelings fester in the dark and cannot survive in the clear, illuminating light of day. I am working on that courage, I am exposing my weaknesses to the light and watching them turn to dust. I am a work in progress....

Wish me luck….

Helloooo 2016.....

I’m long overdue on writing this blog post, but it’s been a busy period, as it probably has been for many. Christmas and New Year happened (more about those later) and we are all reluctantly dragging ourselves out of bed on cold, dark mornings and facing the reality that the festive season is over, and normal routine must be addressed again. The supermarkets are, very kindly, aiding us in this mindfulness by stacking their shelves with Easter Eggs, reminding us that another Gorge Fest is just around the corner. Since I have made efforts to change my lifestyle, I now see supermarkets in a different light, and it’s really quite shocking to see how they are geared around encouraging us to purchase fast, easy, sugar and salt laden food, whilst the “healthy choices” are heavily marked up and placed on the corners of the aisles….

..Anyway... since my last blog on 21^st December, I have lost another 8lbs, bringing total loss to 9stone 3lbs in 35 weeks, and now a yellow rosette adorns my fridge, keeping company with the other eight. 
When I first started this journey, I had no idea I would come this far so fast. As my success continued, it became a goal to have lost 10stone by my 46^th birthday in March. Now I only have to lose 11 pounds to get there, and have eight weeks to achieve it. That’s highly doable, I’m sure, and, if I smash through that particular target early, then I’ll just keep going. 
My mind is turning more now to what I will do when I get to target, as it is now no longer a distant spot on the horizon…I can see Land Ahoy!! 
My original plan was to get down to 12st 5lbs, the lowest weight I was in my 20s (and I am just 33 lbs. away from that), but I have now decided that I would like to get to 11.5 stone, which would slip me into a ‘Normal’ BMI for the first time since, .....well, probably my teens. Ideally I would like to reach that by the time we go on our holiday to Italy in early August.
 33 pounds in 29 weeks? – no problem!!!!

So how was your Christmas? 
We had a lovely, quiet, family time, mainly just my husband, the two kids and I. My Mum came to stay on Boxing Day. My poor husband had to work an early shift on Christmas Day (those pesky borders can’t protect themselves), and, as he is traditionally the provider of the Christmas Roast, we settled for a plate of Fajitas that day, and had the Big Spread on Boxing Day. 
As I had promised myself, I came totally off plan for both days and by ‘totally’…I mean ‘totally’…  I am only grateful that it was my sage and focused head that had made the choices for food purchases in advance and that the shops were shut, otherwise there may well have been a full-on food frenzy. 
I am not saying that I totally gorged myself, but I didn’t hold back either. 
I indulged in alcohol, sugar-laden desserts and carb-heavy meals and snacks. And I loved every minute. 
But I did pay the price. 
On Boxing Night, I stood on my bathroom scales “just to check” and was horrified to discover that I had gained seven pounds!! In two days!!! 
Now, I know that a lot of this is water and my body reacting to a sudden influx of calories after months of restriction, but it still spooked me pretty badly. 
The following day I was back on plan, and, when my mother left that morning, she was sent off with a “care package” of abundant leftovers and Christmas treats. 
I wasn’t taking any risks, the fridge and cupboards needed to be “cleansed” of temptation and all “bad” foods were to be evacuated imminently…for fear that they might be inadvertently consumed and the frenzy recommence. 
It is a relief to report that the weight has since come back off, and more also, but, on reflection it has shown me, not only how easy it is to “fall off the wagon” and how shocking the effects can be. It  has also made me very mindful of how important it will be for to take the correct approach when I eventually reach target, reintroduce carbs and increase my calorie intake from “very low” to “maintenance level”. 
I clearly  mustn’t take the “Christmas Binge” attitude as it definitely shocked my body into over-reacting and, to be honest, I didn’t feel my usual bright, healthy self for the following few days. When the time is right, I must gradually, and carefully “work up the steps” of the Cambridge Plan, weaning myself back onto a healthy carbohydrate intake and learning new healthy habits and making better food choices. 

When a “diet” “finishes”, it is incredibly tempting to convince yourself, now you are thinner, that you can eat the same way that you did before you started. It is also very common to tell yourself that you now “deserve” to eat all the foods that you were “deprived” of for the duration of your weight loss endeavours. 
How many of us have looked forward to the time when we can eat takeaways, snacks, sweets and treats again after enduring the hardship of losing weight? I know that I have been very guilty of that. 
This is why I am trying to alter my mindset now, and get it into my stubborn skull that I need to develop and adopt good eating habits FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. To look at any other attitude than that, with proper common sense, truly reveals the madness of “temporary thinking”!  It would be like suggesting to a skydiver that, because they have successfully jumped out of a plane using a parachute and lived to tell the tale, then their survival rate would not be reduced if they took the next jump chute-less. 
Pure insanity. Yet it is a madness that so many of us Yo-Yo dieters buy into time after time. And it is a madness that I am determined not to fall foul of ever again. I’m not sure quite yet how I am going to do this, but I am encouraged that my food-addled brain seems to be keen on pushing me in that direction and that the thoughts of healthy eating seem to be dominating those of cravings and the desire to revert to old ways. I’m sure that there will be many hurdles on the way, and, I may well fall flat on my face at times , but, for now and hopefully forever, whenever I take a jump I’m keeping that parachute firmly strapped to my back!!!

January is traditionally a time, not only for new beginnings, but also for looking back at the past year. How many “TV specials” were we subjected to in the past few weeks where the events, tributes , and achievements of the past 12 months were regurgitated and paraded by 'celebrities' to fill post-Christmas airspace…? Well, I don’t like to disappoint, so for your delectation I would like to present to you…MY REVIEW OF THE YEAR……(cue music...dancing girls...Dale Winton....)

Oh, ok, may be not....

....but when I do look back I’m pleased to see that I have achieved quite a lot. 
Most of it is as a result of my weight loss, and all have benefited me greatly. Some have been more cosmetic, such as dropping dress sizes, getting into skinny jeans and wearing knee-high boots again. Oh, and being able to wear my wedding and engagement rings once more for the first time in years. 
Other changes have been habitual or behavioural - I have made my peace with green vegetables and learned to love salad (in fact, I even ate some cucumber without gagging the other day); I have given up caffeine and fizzy drinks and exponentially increased my water intake. 
I have even  made new friends, such as my wonderful consultant, and some through social media and the Facebook support group I started for those of with 10+ stones to lose, which is now 750+ strong. 

So many positives, and so much to be grateful for. 

Most of all, I am thrilled that I am regaining my health. 

For many, many years I have struggled with hypertension issues and have been on a cocktail of pills to lower my blood pressure. The condition appears to be hereditary, as it comes straight down the maternal line in my family, but there is no doubt that the issues were exacerbated by my weight. 
This week I paid a visit to the doctor for my blood pressure check. Back in September, when I had already lost around 3 stones, my blood pressure reading was 137/86. The other day, when it was taken it read at 106/69. That is a considerable drop, taking me comfortably into the “healthy” range and is absolutely attributable to my weight loss. In fact the nurse at the surgery has recommended that I see my GP to see if I can have my meds cut down or, at least, the dosage reduced. 
For me this is utterly and irrefutably the best thing that has happened as a result of my losing weight. 
To know that I am improving my health feels better than slipping into a pair of size 16 skinny jeans or slinking into my Christmas party dress. 
It feels more fantastic than receiving a compliment or catching my reflection in the mirror and realising that I am actually starting to like what I see. 
It is a greater smugness than I get when I find myself saying “no thank you” to that cake – and meaning it. 
The sense of control, the feeling of being the master of your own destiny, and no longer a slave to your own compulsions cannot be beaten. In fact it is probably addictive. I have spoken in previous blogs about having an addictive nature and wondering where it will manifest itself next. Maybe I will get hooked on that rush of being in charge, of feeling healthy and well…and if I do…all the better.
It was also a very empowering feeling to walk out of the doctors with my head held high , knowing that I had done something right and commendable for once. I cannot count how many times in the past I have slunk sheepishly away from the surgery, heart in my boots and yet another warning from the GP about my weight still ringing in my ears…..But not this time…and never again……

So onto new changes for 2016…. Firstly I am determined to “finish what I started” this year, to get to target and, more importantly, to keep it off.  To assist me, I am participating in both a 50 day and a 100 Day Challenge on Facebook, which I hope will motivate me to stay 100% as much as I possibly can.  This year , as pledged in a previous blog, is also the year that I plan to increase my exercise. My Big Plan, is ultimately, to take up running in the spring and to attempt the Couch to 5K. My husband has even expressed a desire to join me in this venture.  In the interim, I am reviewing the exercise I do on a daily or weekly basis. When I first started this plan I was working 30 minutes each day on the exercise bike followed by 15 minutes “Bingo Wing Busting” with hand weights. If I’m honest, that effort dropped off over December, partly because I had very busy evenings with Christmas social events after work, partly because the conservatory in which our bike lives gets very cold, but mainly because I just got lazy.  I’m pulling that back a bit now, gradually, but yesterday I "upped the ante" by attending my first Zumba class.  I’m pleased to say that I managed to keep up the pace for the whole hour, and, as I type, do not seem to have been blighted with “Bambi Legs” (although I have been gleefully advised by my peers that “there is still time for the pain to kick in”…). But most of all, I had amazing fun and I think I’ve found a new pastime that I can embrace with a passion. I definitely want to go again.  I , regrettably, cannot report that  I executed my moves gracefully during the class – whilst the other members were shimmying and salsa-ing, I was desperately trying to keep my balance as my legs tangled themselves and seemed bent on sending me sprawling face-first onto the hard school hall floor. As for my arms, I think I was closer to acting out “I’m a Little Teapot” than depicting the fury and passion of the flamenco, but I had such an incredible laugh doing it. In fact (note to self) I must stock up on Tena Lady as, what with the jumping and stomping, the twisting and turning and the ensuing breakdowns into air-gasping hilarity, I was very fortunate not to have found myself dancing in my own puddle during the course of the class. Next time I may not be so lucky, so best to take precautions....   A pelvic floor of my age that has withstood such a pounding from years of obesity and the births of two children can only take so much…..and no amount of  flouncing around to Latin Music can save me from that kind of embarrassment....

Anyway, on that note I shall leave you. The year ahead looks to be promising…wish me luck……

It's Christmas Time...there's no need to be afraid....

It’s been a while since my last blog, in November, but since then, the Christmas season has arrived, bringing with it busyness, hysteria and increasing demands upon everyone’s time and energy. Not that I don‘t love it, but all this festiveness gets in the way of one’s blogging activities….. In the three weeks since my last entry, I’m pleased to say that I have dropped another 15 pounds, bringing my total loss to 8stone 9lbs since I began this journey in May. More importantly, as we entered December I met my second target, to have lost eight stone and become two-thirds the woman that I started off as. I have friends and colleagues that weigh less than I have lost, and that is a truly sobering thought – had I been asked to carry them on my back 24/7 I would have balked at the thought, but, technically, that is what I had been doing for years. Frightening, just frightening…. It’s been quite the fortnight for milestones, I had my first official “day off plan” on December 9th at  a “Team  Breakfast”, and also  on December  11th when I attended a Dinner Dance with my colleagues. Before that, I had completed 190 days of being 100% ‘On Plan’, with no cheats, deviations or “just one…”s for that entire period. Looking back, I wasn’t convinced that I would make it through one week, yet, somehow, I have managed that 27-fold. I couldn’t really explain how, either, I just seemed to do it. And I am grateful for the amazing support and encouragement that has buoyed me along on my journey so far. To be honest, at both the Breakfast and Dinner, I surprised myself by not being as hungry as I expected to be. I had decided to make healthy choices for my meals, but there were still allowances, and, thankfully, my demons stayed at bay on both occasions.   I did have vision s of disgracing myself thoroughly at the dinner table, the starved woman on a feeding frenzy after months of deprivation.  Anticipating the forthcoming celebrations, I imagined myself, face deep in the gravy and custard, snorting like a pig at a trough, emerging only to gasp for air and wipe the cream from my eyebrows…. …Dearest reader, you will be relieved to hear that such a spectacle was not witnessed by my peers, nor the other unsuspecting guests at the respective establishments….  I cannot even say that I struggled with resisting temptation or felt denied… I did indulge a little, but, frankly, the urge to splurge was simply not there.  I ate…I drank only water…but was mostly merry.   It was a brand new experience – to anticipate the event and the company more than the food that would be on my plate. This is a very unique concept to me. In past times, the meal would be the highlight of any social gathering. I looked forward to the food, and usually was planning dessert before the starter was even served. This, on reflection, is incredibly insulting to any friends with whom I have enjoyed many a calorific night out. As much as I love and adore them, my true First Love was always the food, my priorities rested firmly with filling my face. How sad……

It is such a liberating and refreshing feeling to have shifted the focus onto more fulfilling pursuits. And, what’s more, the following day was not blighted by regret and that uncomfortable over-stuffed feeling…. Winner, winner, (turkey) dinner……

Another aspect of the social events that certainly highlighted the Dinner Dance for me was the fact that I got to dress up for the night and show off my newly regained curves. I deliberated for a long time in finding the right outfit for the evening, and eventually settled on a black glittery, figure-hugging knee-length dress. And I was utterly delighted to find that I could fit comfortably into a size 18. Considering I started off in a size 24/26, just seven months ago, that is quite an achievement. The big thing for me, was showing off my legs for the first time in a very, very long time. Since I have worked at my current office for the past three and a half years, my colleagues have never been witness to anything more than a sock-covered ankle under boots and trousers. But on that evening, they got the full Mid-thigh to Toe experience (albeit clothed in black tights) topped with a pair of sparkling black heels. And I have to admit, I felt like a million dollars. The compliments and remarks I received were overwhelming and just further encouraged me to keep going.

Now I know that my greatest focus in this weight loss journey has been on regaining my health and extending my longevity, but I cannot deny that I am enjoying all the attention and positive feedback that I am receiving for the way I am starting to look. I used to think that I was a naturally confident person despite my weight, but my confidence has increased considerably since the weight has begun to come off. Perhaps I was just fooling myself and, underneath was as insecure and self-hating as your average fat girl is believed to be. In fact, there is no perhaps, I clearly was just pretending to myself. All this adulation and attention just add to it. But there is an inherent danger in listening too hard and taking to heart too much the compliments and niceties that I am receiving right now.

I have an addictive personality. It was my compulsion to consume unhealthy, especially sugary, foods that led me to needing to drastically lose weight in the first place. Right now my addiction to food appears to be “in recovery” but I must remain all too aware that addictions can manifest themselves in many forms. I am not just talking about compulsions to eat and drink, there are also addictions to patterns of behaviour and emotional states that can be equally as damaging, perhaps not to the body, but certainly to the soul. And when the soul is wounded, all too often the body will follow.

Right now, it is lovely to bathe in the glow of the positive strokes from my peers, it feels good to be praised. But this state of change is only temporary. Whilst I am still in the process of evolving to the healthy person I aspire to be, I attract attention. But, one day, I will, hopefully achieve my goal and the slim/healthy person I want to be will become my “normal” state. 

And normality is boring, it does not merit the reactions from others that I am receiving now. As a “normal” person, I will lose my “superhero” status, I will no longer be able to cash in on my success. I will just be an average person, and will have to reluctantly hand over the mantle to a more deserving newcomer. And I worry that I will have become addicted to being the centre of attention, I fear that I will rapidly deflate when this is no longer the case.

I have been here before…I mentioned in one of my early blogs that, at a previous weight loss attempt, I joined a slimming club and, very early on, set my sights on claiming the Slimmer of the Year accolade. That was my top motivation and what drove me to lose five stones. I became competitive and obsessed… I did, in fact, take the title that I yearned for, but it soon became a hollow victory. Almost soon as I had posed for pictures, held my trophy aloft and removed the winners’ sash, my downfall was almost inevitable. I had achieved my goal and left myself nowhere else to go…the spotlight faded….the curtain dropped…and I became a Nobody again.

I know now, that instead of feeding on food, I was feeding off of attention. I craved and needed to be noticed and praised. And when this no longer happened, through no fault of any others, I returned to the one comfort I knew gave me that temporary boost – food. And, rapidly, I slid back into my old habits.

I understand, now, the folly of my thinking, and realise that I must learn other ways to nourish my soul and protect my body. I’m still working on this, and haven’t found the full answer yet. I do wonder if there is actually “an answer”. Perhaps the trick is just to remain on the path that I am currently on; to not seek out a goal except for that of a healthy and extended life. As the “weight goal” is now actually visible on the distant horizon, I am starting to think about how I will sustain the weight loss for the rest of my life. How will I resist the urge to return to my old habits, and ultimately undo all the work that I have done so far? I don’t know exactly how I am going to do it, but hope that thus mental and emotional shift that I am undergoing, for the first time ever, whilst losing weight, will help me find my way. What I do know is that, whilst I can’t go back to old habits, I also can’t continue on the same method I am losing weight now, as it would not work in sustaining a healthy weight in the long term. There is still much challenge ahead, I just hope that I can rise to it. Right now, all I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and continue to trust and hope. This is probably the last blog I will write before Christmas, and, despite the couple of days off, I have no intention of blowing it all “just because it’s Christmas”. True, I shall allow myself to indulge on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, but on other days I have no intention of coming off plan. My decision has been questioned by many, particularly those who see the festive season as an excuse to throw caution to the wind and over indulge.  I may well do that over future Christmases, but, for me, this year is critical. I am still carrying far too much weight for my frame, and cannot afford to add to it. Maybe, in years to come, I can allow myself some leeway, but not this year.  To me, it would be the equivalent of ceasing life-saving medication “because it’s Christmas”…it would be like driving without a seatbelt “because it’s Christmas”….Right now, I am on a course set to save and prolong my life, why would I be foolish enough to risk gaining much of the weight, all in the name of a festivity that is celebrated every year. Yes, this Christmas, for me will possibly a little less traditional, it may not be quite as abandoned and jolly, the merry-making will involve less consumption…but, hey, it is only one Christmas in many….in fact, I hope to enjoy more Christmases then expected in the future, as a direct result of the decisions and choices I make this year…. …Wish me Luck….

.and a Happy, Healthy Christmas to all of you…..

Let It Go......

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a weakness to confess…recent events in my life are leading me to understand that I have a real problem with Letting Go…
They say that if you keep encountering the same negative scenarios in your life, then you still haven't learned the lessons that God/The Universe/Life ( delete where appropriate) is trying to teach you . And that realisation has hit me full in the face this week.  I won’t go into details, but the spectre of narcissism  has reared its ugly head once again, and I am finding myself falling into the same traps that I always do. When things kick off, I allow myself to assume, maybe even promote myself in the role of “rescuer” – I wade in with my size 8 Hobnails and try to fix things. Things which I cannot fix….

The problem is that, more often than not, my intervention has been uninvited, my assistance unwelcome, or my aid inappropriate. In the worst case scenario I end up becoming the scapegoat, pilloried for my good intentions. At best I am left bitter and frustrated that I couldn’t “make things better”. Why do I do this? I’m still trying to work that out completely but I am starting to wonder if my motivations are not entirely altruistic. I wish that I could profess, with utmost sincerity, that my deeds were entirely derived from  self-sacrifice…but they’re not. 

I hate conflict, I detest discord, broken things and people make me uncomfortable, yet I gravitate towards them and am driven by a powerful urge to rectify and fix them.
To quote the dwarf, Tyrion – my favourite Game of Thrones character: “ "I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things,". And fans of GOT will be highly aware that Tyrion himself is damaged goods with addiction issues and certainly the product of the ultimate dysfunctional family. No wonder I like him…

This blog has become for me, less of a journey in losing weight, and more of a quest for truth. So if I am to move on in this journey I must embrace all truths. I am starting to understand that my need to fix things, my self-appointment in the role of rescuer and fixer comes from behaviours set when I was very young. 

My family home was incredibly volatile, emotional and mental abuse abounded, the vast majority of it directed at my mother by my alcoholic father. Although there was minimal violence, the threat always permeated through our home. As a child, I just wanted it to stop. Every child feels this way, shouting and aggression is very scary – crying makes you sad. And at a tender age I discovered  that if I intervened I could detract the attention away from my mother.  I am very similar to my father in character and, somehow, I could speak in the language that would stop him in his tracks. Even if only for a little while. And that felt good. My actions were able to temporarily take away the nastiness that pervaded and I would stop feeling so horrible. The problem was, I was too good at it, and soon my family members realised that my intervention in such scenarios had the ability to assuage the conflict, and so, as is natural in a self-preservation situation, they empowered me to do this. Soon the role was encouraged, it was bestowed on me – I was put on a tenuous pedestal, declaring me “Family Rescuer”. Even after I left home, and the conflicts continued without me, I received calls imploring me to intervene from relatives, asking me to “work my magic”. And, to be brutally frank, I got off on this role, this power that had been allotted to me. It made me feel good, it- it gave me some superiority over my peers. It probably bred a form of narcissism within me.

There was one huge flaw in this plan. My family were acting as if they were worshiping a false god – Me! And the only person that truly believed in this god was myself. 

I am not going to blame my family for I am starting to understand that they were doing what was necessary to survive. I have been angry, I have felt betrayed and manipulated but I now realise that I was equally as guilty, by participation, in perpetuating in this dysfunction. After all, if I was prepared to throw myself into the lions’ pit to take the heat off them, who were they to argue? 

And so they built up this false idol, founded on my broken self-esteem, and it grew to uncontrollable proportions. The curious thing is that, even back then, my efforts always seemed to backfire on me – I got bitten, and I got left with a bitter taste in my mouth. And what is the best antidote for having eaten something bitter? Eat something sweet! So that is what I did – absolutely literally- I consumed large amounts of sugary, unhealthy foods in order to push down the terrible feelings of failure, guilt and regret. Until the next time my services were called upon…. And thus the cycle continued….

Sadly this weakness has continued to permeate throughout my life, not just through my family relationships, but through my work… I find myself striving to fight battles long after the war has been lost to the point where I am utterly exhausted. I wade in to fights that are not mine….I find I am filled with righteous indignation when I witness an injustice. But I have to look deep within and realise that my actions are, more often than not, highly egocentric.
I am an Empath, it is in my nature and character to feel and absorb the emotions of people around me, especially other people’s pain, which can affect me deeply. I can’t help that, it just happens, it always has and maybe always will. This can have a positive impact, it can endear me to people, it allows me to fit in easily in most social situations, I am mainly perceived as a “nice person”…But the downside is that, when there is a large amount of negative energy around me, I am dragged down, drained. And like the little girl watching her parents fight , I want to make it stop and to dispel the pain I am feeling. As I am progressing in my weight loss journey I am no longer able to use food as a way to suppress these feelings, so, instead I just redouble my efforts to control the conflict. I hurl myself headlong into negative and volatile situations in order to appease the insecure child within. I am doing it to repair and boost my damaged ego. Not very admirable. Not very healthy.

So how does this apply to my weight loss journey? It actually is probably at the centre of my motivation right now. Currently I am enjoying great success, and seeing great results. I share this success and, in return, so many people commend me for my tenacity and dogged determination, my willpower in sticking to the plan 100% all this time. I have conveniently and undoubtedly placed myself in the spotlight as a result of my behaviour. There is a positive pay-off in this, I do realise. Others are inspired by my success and spurred on to do the same themselves.
But, unfortunately, that bitter taste still lingers and something in the back of my head is making me very uncomfortable.
It is fear. That ubiquitous, persistent fear of failure. That nagging worry that I am setting myself up for a fall. So to shut these feelings down I push myself forward again into “the fight” – this time it’s the fight against food, the battle with my demons.
Now you may be thinking “that can only be a good thing”. Well, right now it is, for all my energy, my determination, my doggedness (they call me “the Bulldog” at work, because once I get my teeth into things I don’t let go….. I used to think it was a compliment…) is directed into losing weight. I am obsessed, driven by an unhealthy urge to win. The issue remains, however, is what to do when the battle is won, when I have no outlet for this angst and energy. Like the Beserkers of the Norse battlefield or the proverbial Tasmanian Devil, I could be spinning out of control. I have been there before. In previous weight loss efforts, once I had reached a goal I had set myself, I lost control…and span headlong back into weight gain and unhealthy choices.

So I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I must find a new approach. And this is where Letting Go comes in. This does not mean that I have to give up on the weight loss efforts or slow down my attempts. What I need to learn to do detach from this obsessive need to succeed and to remove my ego from this journey. I cannot deny that I have been basking in the admiration of my peers for my achievements. I also cannot deny that I have a right to feel proud. But what I must do is to dispel this false god I am allowing to be created all over again. The god that nobody else believes in but me. 
In my distorted head I have been telling myself that I cannot and must not fail, that I cannot fall because those that have expressed admiration in me “will feel let down”, that “people are looking up to me” “they are relying on me to inspire”. What utter bullshit. I am buying in to the myth that was sold to me in my childhood about my indispensability, the necessity of my contribution, my intrinsic importance in the grand scheme of things. Ego – pure ego. 
And what comes with this sense of obligation to uphold the image that I think I have created, is that  I am putting myself under incredible pressure and setting impossible standards. 
This, I think, is why so many seemingly normal people in the public eye succumb to drink and drugs. Just like I have used food. Don’t get me wrong, I am not comparing myself to a celebrity in any way, but I feel that I am behaving in a similar manner. So I must liberate myself, I must let go…I must step away and detach and learn to do what is best for me, and only me. I need to allow others to make their own choice, learn from their own mistakes and to stop casting myself as the Impossible Hero in the story of anyone’s life but my own. 
So now I know what I have to do. 
Next I have to learn how to do it
…Wish Me Luck….

Hitting the Century....

Things are going pretty well on my journey to weight loss right now. Last night I had my first weigh in for three weeks.. My consultant had gone away on a trip to Mauritius - a 50th birthday treat from her children - and so I was left to my own devices for 21 days. Now, as I mentioned in my last blog, it was highly tempting to see my consultant's holiday as a "holiday" of my own....but I held fast...
And I have reaped the rewards. As I stepped on the scales, I was told that, over the past three weeks I had lost twelve pounds. A very good result indeed. This was a triple celebration as not only had there been a substantial loss, I had also passed two more weight loss landmarks. Firstly I had lost over seven stone, and attained the coveted Purple Rosette (my favourite colour!!); secondly - I have bypassed the "100 pounds lost" mark. Both very gratifying achievements.
I am currently edging towards "unmarked territory", although, arguably, I am already there. Although I have weighed less than I currently do now, I have never lost this amount of weight in one single attempt before. In previous efforts, the sticking point seems to be around the five to five and half stone mark, but, so far, I appear to be breezing through that. I have also completed 163 days of being 100% on plan - no deviations, no cheats, no 'just a slice'...and, when I look back I amaze myself. I had no idea that I possessed the willpower and motivation to keep going like this.
Oh, and another thing - the amount of weight I have lost is now more than my daughter weighs! Finally - I can officially announce that I have lost all of my "Baby Weight"!! And it only took me 14 years to do it!!
I now have my next goal firmly in my sights. There are six weeks until Christmas. If I can lose another eight pounds by then, I will have shed exactly eight stones, and can formally declare myself to be exactly two thirds of the woman that I used to be...
People are really starting to notice the weight loss on me, hardly a day goes by when I am not approached by someone offering a compliment or remark. The inevitable question always follows: "How have you been doing it?"
As wonderful as it is to have people notice that you've lost weight, sometimes I find that I can suffer from "Compliment Fatigue". I know that this sounds incredibly ungrateful and ungracious, but bear with me....
It's not so much the question I mind, but when folks are clearly disappointed that I'm not about to impart the 'holy grail' of pain-free, easy slimming, I can sense bitter disappointment, and that can bring me down. Some folks don't want to hear that it's been a struggle of both body and mind (and, frankly, they don't accept that suggestion anyway), they are desperately asking for the secret formula of the "wonder pill" that you have clearly been taking. They (as did I) are craving the "quick fix" to undo years of bad and unhealthy habits. It's an unfortunate symptom of our times.
So I've come up with a new strategy. 

I like messing with people's heads anyway, it's defintiely one of my favourite hobbies. 

Now, each time I am asked for the secret of my weight loss, I come up with a more bizarre and conversation-halting reason. 

So far this week I've attributed my slimmer look to Ebola, a Tapeworm and a case of Galloping Dysentery..... It's such entertainment watching the faces of the inquisitors as they try to work out if I'm being serious or not. The more deadpan the expression, the more effective it is! Try it sometime!!

Clothes shopping is becoming more of a pleasure these days. Every Plus-Size person understands the pain of searching the mainstream shop floors for the clothes that will fit you - size and fit are a priority over style. Recently I bought myself a new pair of knee-high boots and, saints alive(!) got myself into a pair of skinny jeans. There was much prancing around the house on that day, I can tell you. My husband, a self appointed aficionado of womens' footwear fashion (in his dreams! was less keen on my boots - judging my chunky biker boots to be "too mannish" (not that I care - he doesn't get to wear them!).What he is fonder of, however, are the tartan pyjamas I bought in Primark recently...I'm not sure if it's fact that he's Scottish, but the sight of me in plaid p-js seems to get his Caledonian blood racing. No complaints there. 

To have purchased something for myself from Primark is something of a milestone for me. I was always too big for their items and had to resign myself to the larger clothes retailers which, having sensed a gap in the market, had succeeded in marking up their items more expensively. Very unfair, I think - but don't get me started on that..... I did used to enter the doors of the hallowed shop, but only to purchase gifts or necessities for my size 6 daughter. As I wandered the shop floor I did used to wonder if onlookers were glancing at me and wondering "who's she trying to kid?". That was probably firmly in my head, but nevertheless a telling sign of my discomfort and insecurity about my size.  Anyway, so I am now a proud Primark customer, my daughter has a new shopping buddy.... and my husband lives in fear of the bank balance......

Along with the weight loss, I am continuing my exercise schedule. As much as my hectic lifestyle as "full-time worker and mother with a husband who does shifts" status allows me, I try to do a daily 30 minutes on the exercise bike, followed by fifteen minutes using the hand weights to "bust those bingo wings".
It is starting to occur to me that, with the amounts of weight I am losing, that, one day, I may have to contend with excess, saggy skin. That, on the whole, doesn't worry me too much, as my focus has been, and continues to be on my health and not how I look, but it is a slight disconcerting thought. Some individuals have already asked me if I would contemplate surgery if it came to that when I reached my target but, right now, that is not an option I am entertaining. I am a 45 year old woman, and a mother of two, not a nubile 20-something with no dependents and a body that will recover quickly from going under the knife. I am not sure that I would like to risk the complications of unnecessary surgery. So, I am telling myself right now, that, if this weight loss journey leaves me with a little excess skin, then I will just disguise it with creative dressing. After all, that is what Spanx were invented for! Maybe, the 'flappy bits' will remain as a stark reminder of how far I've come, and where I started, and these will motivate me to stay on the healthy track for life.
With regards to "staying on the track" I am also starting to wonder how I will maintain my weight loss once I have (hopefully) reached my goal. It is no secret that the weight loss is the less challenging part of the journey and that integrating 'normal' foods back into one's lifestyle brings with it a minefield of risks. So, I am making plans to increase my exercise efforts, and have taken the decision to take up running in the spring. Now when I say "in the spring" this is no cop-out. I have my reasons - the nights are too dark and wet right now, I'm still not fit enough and also too heavy that pounding the streets would take an unfavourable toll on my joints. But, the seed of the idea is starting to germinate in my head and I am finding increasingly attractive the prospect of attempting a "Couch to 5K" and maybe even participating in Fun Runs. My daughter is desperate to do the Race For Life and last year I was very secretly grateful that the date for the local event clashed with other plans. I will not have the same excuse next year, and I want to join in with my girl, not just cheer on from the sidelines. So, I am making this commitment - to myself and to all readers of this blog - that I shall be running next year. No backing out now.
So that's Part A of the Maintenance Plan. part B is an ongoing project - working on my head! Weight loss is, without doubt a combination of Mind/Body/Spirit - all three stars must align for you to be successful - you cannot tackle such a big change without signing all three aspects to the deal. Every day, I find myself challenging my own thinking, and, I do believe that the message is starting to seep through to my subconscious. Just the other day I was at Costa Coffee (please note that this blog is not sponsored by Costa, Primark or Spanx and other coffee houses, clothing retailers and control underwear brands are available..) and as I was queueing for my skinny decaff and my childrens' Belgian Chocolate Teeth-Rotting Sugar-Fest (as a treat, mind you) I was stood by the cakes cabinet... There were all kinds of delicacies there...flapjacks..brownies...muffins....chocolate-laden slabs of naughtiness.... Now, normally, I would find myself salivating at that point, and probably risking banishment by the staff for leaving unhygienic nose and tongue marks on the display glass..but this time...I didn't. I hardly felt a pang, not a flicker of a craving.
It was confounding, and my subconscious brain didn't quite know what to do with itself. But I felt great! The feeling of being in self control was almost overwhelming. Now I have to just remember that feeling, and anchor it in my head, just in case temptation strikes again.
Wish me luck....

A Normal Overweight Person....

This week, I “only” lost one pound!!!  Now, before I am hounded by torch and pitchfork bearing angry dieters desperate for any loss, I totally concede  that this is still a loss, and I fully accept that I should be grateful for any decrease on the scales, but I would be lying if I failed to admit a slight disappointment in the results.  Over the past few weeks, since embarking on Step 2, I have had some very acceptable losses, eight pounds  then three pounds, which have catapulted me into the six and half stone loss bracket.  I was also very fortunate to be rewarded with six colourful rosettes by my consultant for each stone lost so far (I know that I may protest at the madness of giving out stickers and fridge magnets, but, deep down, I am still a little girl wanting something bright and shiny for my efforts!).   Unfortunately, despite my efforts this week being 100% as ever, my body decided to cling on to the majority of the weight for another few days, Why? I really don’t know, I cannot blame cheating or hormones, I could probably attribute some to slight constipation (which was spectacularly resolved the following day – oh the cruel irony) but I have to simply accept it is just “one of those things” – a glitch in the unpredictable Matrix which is my weight loss journey.   This is the smallest loss I have had since I “took the red pill” just 20 weeks ago and ventured down the rabbit hole of dealing with the weight issues I had denied for so long. And that “little” loss stung my pride a bit, I can’t deny it.  (Uh-oh, is that marauding hordes  I can hear in the distance…???). It is that wounding of my pride that has made me realise that I am facing yet another test in my weight loss journey. My resolve is up for question. When the weight is falling off rapidly, it is very easy to be carried along the current of positivity and motivation. After all success breeds success.  When you meet an obstruction in the river, however, it is highly tempting to give up, and form a stagnant little pool by the bank. I wish that I could say, honestly and wholeheartedly that these thoughts did not cross my mind, however there is no denying that the dark part of me which still lurks within started to wonder why I should bother. “All that hard work and sacrifice for one measly pound?” “I may as well just cash my chips in and indulge myself a little this week, it’ll make no difference anyway”. Mad, mad, crazy thinking. But I thought it.   Thankfully, the “angel on my shoulder” still has some power and drop-kicked the devil into touch. But it was close.

Giving up on a positive path due to a setback or failure is such a common behaviour and I would imagine that most of us have been there. 
Sometimes the journey seems too hard, the reward seems too scant and we ask ourselves is it really worth the effort to keep going. 
The problem is, that if we stop, we don’t just remain where we are, we start to stagnate, we even start to regress backwards. 
When a river is dammed, whirlpools and eddies will form behind the obstruction, whirling little bodies of water going nowhere but in confusing circles. If the blockage is not overcome, eventually the water will settle, weed will grow over, flies and will populate the area and decomposition will settle in. 
Yet, the world is not full of stagnant pools, there are flowing streams and  babbling rivers making their way to the sea every day, providing fresh life-sustaining water. If you observe a dam, it is never truly still, a little trickle still works its way through. Sometimes the trickle gathers strength and speed and breaches the banks to continue along that path. Whether a trickle or a torrent, water has the power to push  its way through with incredible force or to persistently erode away over a long period of time. Either way, it makes its way through to where it belongs. 
I must aspire to be like that water – tenacious, persistent and resolute. Whether I am gushing along or seeping through, I must not stagnate. And so, I will refuse to let any setback stop me. If I continue along this way in the way I already have, eventually I will break through. Nothing will stop me.

This journey is fraught with challenges, although I try to see them as “opportunities to learn and grow”. The “devil on my shoulder” popped up again this week when my consultant told me that she is going away this week for a very well deserved holiday. This means that there won’t be any weigh ins for me for the next three weeks. 

That sneaky little demon was whispering in my ear almost immediately…. “ooh, three weeks! You know what that means – you can eat a bit naughtily for a little while. As long as you are good for the few days before your next weigh in…who would know…” 

hmmm….tempting…. 

The angel on my other shoulder, aghast at this suggestion did her darnedest to counter  “why would you do that? You are six pounds off a seven stone loss…nine pounds from having lost 100lbs…this is the ideal opportunity to work hard and blast through, you’ve got three whole weeks to work on it..” . 

But the Devil was on a roll…”look – you only lost a pound this week, you are GUARANTEED to have a bigger loss next week, as long as you don’t go overboard, that will carry you through till the next weigh in. Look, the cat’s away, time for the mice to play..You DESERVE this as reward for all your hard work recently…” 

At the words “as long as you don’t go overboard”, the poor angel raised her eyes heavenward, suppressed a celestial curse and sighed….being a far wiser soul, she knew all too well that the terms  ‘self control’, ‘moderation’ and ‘restraint’ have been all too scant in my vocabulary for much of my life.

And, yet, her patient little voice seems to be getting through to me – slowly but surely. For, right now I have decided that I will push through, I will work on and not let down myself, nor my consultant, by dropping the ball in her absence. 

Looking at it logically, the other decision would be yet more utter madness, yet the thought was there, ready to germinate in my susceptible head. I really wish that the Devil would bugger off for good and give me an easier life but I guess I must accept that he is currently there, perched on my shoulder, eager to exploit any perceived chink in my armour. I have carried him around for so long, and paid him so much attention he has probably secured Squatters’ Rights on my shoulder. He came in uninvited but I gave him so much credence that he has no motive to leave. All I can do is learn to ignore him. Just because he is talking I don’t have to listen, no matter how tempting his propositions are. Maybe one day I’ll get the hint.

In the meantime, I shall arm myself with positive reasons to keep going the way I am going. 

I am definitely starting to reap the benefits of this healthier lifestyle, and so are my family. 

My husband, who, although not doing Cambridge, is following me in eating more healthily, paid his 'Annual MOT' visit to the doctor last week. Last year he was told that his cholesterol and hypertension were high and that he was at risk of being “borderline Type 2 Diabetes”. This was a particular worry as his father, who died this September, had been Type 2 Diabetic for much of his life and it definitely adversely affected his health towards the end . On returning from the doctors’ surgery this time, my hubby had a discernible spring in his step. Not only had the diabetes risk gone, but both blood pressure and cholesterol had dropped and he had lost two stone. If this is not an endorsement of our new, better choices, I don’t know what is!

Our choices are also impacting on our children. Naturally, we don’t expect them to go on any form of diet but we are promoting better food choices and have banished junk food from the home, with the exception of special occasions. Following such an occasion (during which I stuck 100% to plan!) there were some sausage rolls left over in the fridge. In the eyes of a ten year old boy these would normally be a source of irresistible delight and ‘leftovers’ would last approximately ten minutes! 

Not on this occasion. 

As I pottered in the kitchen one day, my son proudly announced to me 

“I have decided to only eat one sausage roll today!” 

“Why’s that?” I enquired, anticipating a full and detailed description of mould or decay...

.. “well…” he replied “I had a look at the food label, and I’ve decided that there is an unhealthy level of fats and salts in the rolls…” 

Who’d have thought it – my junk food junkie of a son turning into an amateur nutrionalist? Maybe there is hope for us all….

Of course, another fringe benefit is knowing that I look better these days. I am fitting comfortably   into size 18/20 clothing (even jeans!) and had to sell off my old wide-calf boots the other day as they now swim around my legs like over-sized wellies. Thank heavens for E bay, where I can sell off too-big items to make money to purchase smaller ones.

Last week I attended a ‘karaoke evening’ with some very dear friends. These are traditionally very drunken affairs, peppered with snacks and calorie-laden foods, and the occasional bit of singing! 

This time, I came prepared with several bottles of sparkling water and spent the night dodging the snack bowls. But, I still thoroughly enjoyed my evening. 

As the night came to a close, my very dearest friend (who inspired me to start this journey and has supported me all the way), a little worse for wear, came up to me and slightly slurred 

“You have done so well – you now just look like a normal overweight person”. 

Now, coming from the wrong person, this could have been incredibly insulting, but I know that these words were spoken with much love by a person who has fought the same battle and won. 

And her words couldn’t be truer. When I looked back the next day at the inevitable pictures on Facebook the next day , it struck me that I no longer stand out in a group as “the really fat one”. 

Wow – just wow! 

I did look like a “normal overweight person”. And that is just a fab boost to my self esteem. The angel is grinning from ear  to holy ear…

Maybe next year I will achieve an even greater accolade and just be the “normal person”…..

…wish me luck…….

Stepping Down to Step Up....

It’s October! One of my favourite months. There’s something about the golden light, the woody and smoky smells, the mistiness in the air that really floats my boat.  I love to cosy up in snug jumpers and boots (maybe this year I’ll get ‘normal’ calf width boots on my legs) and go on on woodland walks, kicking through leaves  without suffering the Curse of the Fat Bird – sweat. For us overweight individuals, Summer, with all its pleasantries, brings with it the dreaded leakage from every pour, going beyond the “healthy glow” to the “did someone just throw a bucket of water over you?” look in around twenty paces. So, as the temperatures drop, I welcome the chance to don my (smaller sized) coat and take balmy walks amongst the berry-filled trees, picking up conkers with the kids. When I lived in Cyprus, I did miss the Autumn.  Cyprus has two seasons – Summer and slightly less hotter summer (with occasional rain) and snow on the mountains. (yes – Cyprus has a ski resort in the Troodos mountains. Many a time, we would spend a morning sledging and then, in the afternoon, drive back down to the coast and have a picnic on the beach  in our shorts and t shirts. Mental!) As it is October 1st today, it also brings with it the chance for new beginnings and new chances.  And I have seized this opportunity. As of today, with the grace of my consultant, I have “stepped down” from Cambridge Step 3 to Step 2.  This means reducing my daily calorie intake from 1,00 calories to 810 calories, mainly through cutting out all carbohydrates  (this can induce a state of Ketosis, where the body burns fat faster, although I’m not particularly bothered about that aspect), and replacing them with an additional Cambridge product. I’ve opted for the bars, which I have been told are not only tasty but VERY chewy so take a considerable time to consume.

This change of plan came about as my weight loss has slowed down a little in the past few weeks, the regular losses of between four and eight pounds weekly have dropped down to either two or three. I am aware that this is still a commendable loss, but I am hungering for more. I don’t know at this stage if this is a good or a bad thing, but we shall wait and see (or ‘weight’ and see…). What I do love about the Cambridge Weight Plan is that there are options, you can move up or down the steps according to your needs.

 So, it is with some trepidation that I enter October (or Oc-TWO-ber as I am calling it, after Step 2). 
But before I voice my fears, lets me focus on the positives that have led up to this point. 
At my weigh in yesterday, I had lost another two pounds. 
This brings my total weight loss to 5 stone 10 pounds  (80 pounds) since May 14^th. 
I have been reliably informed that this is the weight of the average Rottweiler!!! 
Now, for obvious reasons of personal safety, I probably wouldn’t consider walking around with a Rottweiler draped around my frame (especially not a hungry or grumpy one) but even visualising the equivalent is mind blowing! 
Furthermore, I have ‘graduated’ down to size 20 clothes, even jeans. At my biggest, just four and  a half months ago, I wore a 24 in most clothes and a 26 in jeans. This change definitely makes me happy, and my weekly measurements have reduced by 7 inches on the waist, 10 inches on the hips and 5 inches on the bust  (looks like I will remain top-heavy for now, my husband jests that, at this rate, I will resemble the letter ‘P’!).

Of course, with change comes fear and there are some things that worry me about this step down to Step 2. 
Firstly, I will be giving up my consumption of fruit (not recommended because of its high sugar level) and, for the same reason, tomatoes. I will also have to eschew salmon and a few ingredients in my meals that I enjoy. I am less bothered about carbs, as I have found myself voluntarily cutting them out in meals on occasion anyway. When you only have 40g of rice or pasta to play with, you find yourself thinking “why bother?”. Potatoes will be a little bit harder but I don’t have them as frequently anyway. And I do worry that I will start to feel a lot hungrier without my salad lunch.

Another issue that concerns me is the realisation that I still haven’t completely put an old demon to bed. That demon is fear of judgement and disapproval. 

Granted, I have overcome a few hurdles already – I have confessed to being on Cambridge, I have admitted my starting weight and size, I have written about my most shameful compulsions and eating habits. 

However, I have still held back at least a bit with my candour.  

When people ask me how I have been losing the weight, I have learnt to tell them, upfront, that I am on the Cambridge Weight Plan. However…there is always a disclaimer.. and I find myself qualifying the statement with a comment such as “oh, but it’s not the liquid only version, it’s real food, including salad every day for lunch..” It’s like (actually, no, it IS)  I am still just a wee bit ashamed and embarrassed about the method I have chosen to lose my weight, and  I need to belittle and downsize any aspects that might attract negative attention. After all, I didn’t approve of Cambridge not that long ago, so surely others have similar reservations. 

Why am I doing this? Because I still, sadly, crave a, level of approval and validation from everyone I meet, even relative strangers. 

I’m pretty sure this goes back to my childhood, a little girl wanting nothing but acceptance and unconditional love from an alcoholic (and likely narcissistic) father who simply did not have the capacity to provide what I needed. 

But that is ancient history, something I must now put behind me, and find the courage to work through. 

It was this need for approval that propelled me through previous abortive weight loss attempts. The focus become more on the acclaim and praise than on the benefits to my health and psyche. And, of course, when the compliments dried up, so did my motivation.

This time I am trying hard to focus on the things that matter  to me and to those that depend on me – my health and my longevity. It’s nice getting compliments , I cannot deny that, but it’s better to be able stick around on this planet longer for those that have always loved you and will love you every day.

So, I have started  to tackle the demon. I have told some around me, that I have changed my plan, and I have already received a mixed response. Some have approved, some, frankly, don’t really care and others…well, there’s always the detractors. Comments directed at me have already included "Don't make yourself ill... " "surely it's better to lose more slowly.. " "do you really need to lose much more? ". All well intentioned, I’m sure, but not what I need to hear right now.  I understand that there is a lot of worry and controversy over what people might deem “extreme diets” but this comes from people who do not understand the full facts and are not walking in my shoes.  I used to weigh 24 stone, I still weigh over 18 stone. I am morbidly obese.  My weight has been, and, to some extent, still is impinging  on my health.  I am at risk from a number of life-threatening conditions – cardiac disease, diabetes, stroke, various cancers. Risks which are lessened the further my weight reduces.  It’s not rocket science – I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT.  Some might consider this an ‘extreme diet’ but I have been living under extreme circumstances. Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I am at pains to stress, as much to myself as to others, that I am not doing this particular diet for quick, short-term results.  I don’t want to fit into a special outfit for a special occasion, I don’t aspire to a particular clothes size, I have no individuals offering me any carrot on a stick (wouldn’t work any way, I’m not fond of carrots..) if I lose X number of pounds in X number of days. (although if you spelled it ‘Carat’ , I could be persuaded!!!) However, there is an undeniable Sword of Damocles dangling over my head. And I want to get away from it as soon as possible. Perhaps it would be more prudent to lose it more slowly, and I am aware that research has suggested that weight which comes off more slowly is likely to stay off for longer. But, that is a bridge I will cross when I come to it.  To go back to the Rottweiler analogy, currently I am simply running away, as fast as I possibly can, from a dangerous dog, intent on tearing at my heels. Once I have put enough distance between me and the immediate  threat, maybe then I can reduce my pace and conserve my energy. In the meantime, I will just keep running.  The bridge is in sight, in the far distance, but I still have a way to run before I reach it. However, I must rem ember that the dog is relentless and will not give up because I have slowed down. I will always have to stay a few paces ahead of him. As for the concerns that I am risking my health, surely that cannot be further from the truth. What I am due is REGAINING my health. The bottom line, however, is I must continue to learn the lesson that I must derive my self esteem entirely from my own inner resources and not listen to the voices of others who may or not approve of my choices , for they have their own agenda.  Instead I must listen hard for that still, small voice deep within my core that tells me I’m on the right path, the little life-coach in my soul that says “you’ve got this”.

I’m listening…Wish me luck…..