Multiple Maintenance Metaphors.....

It’s been nearly three months since I posted an entry in the blog, when I explained how I arrived on “the island”. A fair few things have happened since then, a few ups and a few downs.

The biggest “up” is that I found myself featured in two national newspapers, in articles about my weight loss. This came about when my consultant recommended me to be featured in a photo shoot in Cambridge Weight Plan’s in-house magazine. Cambridge publicity department had other ideas, they wanted me to “go national” and I was referred to a journalist, who through a telephone interview, got me to tell my story. It was really quite cathartic, especially the part where she asked me to catalogue my average daily consumption before I began this weight loss journey. As I started thinking and reeling off the calorific treats I used to mindlessly stuff down I began to be quite horrified – no wonder I ballooned to 24 stone. It was really quite shocking, but at the time I chose to pretend that I didn’t care. Of course, the reflection in the mirror would occasionally jolt me but then I just avoided mirrors.

I much prefer this “image” in the “Mirror”:
http://www.mirror.co.uk/lifestyle/dieting/success-stories/mum-loses-half-bodyweight-after-8340715

I was expecting a small article tucked away in the corner of a page, imagine my shock when I found out I was a double-page spread right in the centre of the newspaper. A laminated copy now graces my fridge to remind me to keep on track.

And, boy, do I sometimes need reminding…..

Have you ever noticed that all fairy tales end at the princess finding her prince, marrying him and then “they lived happily ever after”? Well, I’m going to call Bullshit on that. I have no doubt that Cinderella and her Prince have some wonderful days after the lavish royal wedding but don’t try to convince me that there aren’t times when His Highness comes back from a hunting trip, late for dinner and a little worse for wear, to face a very angry Cinders who has been left alone in a palace with nothing but a couple of mice for company.... And what happens when Snow White’s woodland friends go on strike leaving her to contend with cleaning up after seven unruly little men all day whilst her hubby jets off on some ‘diplomatic visit’? Yes, fairy tales are great, and they document the fact that heroines (or heroes) have to go through some struggles to achieve their dreams but the fact remains that they don’t tell the whole story. Not by a long shot.

So here I am, the Princess that achieved her Dream. The Shoe fits (as do many other items in my new wardrobe) and I am living my Happily Ever After. Except I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy. I couldn’t be happier. But I am learning that the Dream requires work. Like Sleeping Beauty, it’s time to wake up and put in some hard effort.

Losing weight wasn’t easy, it required drive and determination. It demanded willpower and mettle. I had to row very hard in my little boat to reach that destination of my Paradise Island on the horizon. And it was that goal that pushed me to get there. Come Hell or High Water, I would navigate the sometimes stormy seas in order to be able to sink my toes into the silver sands and enjoy all the bounty that Island Life could offer me. And I made it! I am now on my Island. My Happily Ever After is here…

At first it certainly seemed that way. For the first few weeks after arrival on my island everything was new and exciting. I got to explore, discover new places, and enjoy new experiences. At first, even though I was exhausted from all the rowing, I was too exhilarated from the adrenaline rush of reaching my destination to think about resting, and I cavorted and frolicked around Paradise eager to sample everything that Island Life had to offer. The natives, who I first was wary of, welcomed me with open arms and even hailed me as a celebrity, astounded that I had navigated the vast, unrelenting ocean that extended beyond their cosy little home. It was a wonderful Honeymoon Period. But as happens to all honeymoons, the thrill began to slowly wane. Once the rush of success subsided I began to get tired, I just wanted to bask in the sun, or rest under a palm tree. After a few weeks on the Island I had explored pretty much every nook and cranny, I had found places I loved to visit and learned of danger areas that I should avoid.. I was becoming complacent. Big Mistake. I had convinced myself that I knew all I needed to know about living on the lsland simply from experiencing a few weeks of living there. Foolish, very foolish. The natives, who had once lauded me soon began to move on again with their daily lives and left me to navigate my way through my own path.

The problem was, I no longer had a Goal to attain. I was on that unattainable dot on the horizon, there was nothing more to aim for, I had reached my destination. And that robbed me of my drive and motivation. So I rested on my laurels and began to take it easy…

It is truly foolhardy to trust that once you have achieved one goal then it is easy to stay there. You may strive and struggle to climb a mountain. You may reach the peak and enjoy breath-taking views from the top. But one thing you cannot do on a mountain peak is wander around, constantly looking at the view without minding where you put your feet. There are plenty of jagged edges and gullies just waiting for you to trip into them and send you plummeting back down to your peril. The same goes for living on Paradise Island. You may be fortunate enough to arrive during the heat of the summer, but what are you going to do when Monsoon Season arrives? There are no other islands nearby, besides, you quite like it here, yet you still need a plan to survive.

I’ve already been caught in a few downpours. It was completely and utterly my fault. I saw the clouds looming on the horizon and told myself that I could weather the storm. The praise from the natives and my limited experience of living there convinced me that I was an Island Goddess with the survival skills of Bear Grylls. Now there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self-confidence but you need the experience to back it up. Otherwise it’s just self-delusion. When the storm raged in, I was ill-equipped. The inadequate shelter I had built myself, based on the scant knowledge and time I had was utterly destroyed. Thankfully the Island remained intact but now I had to rebuild a new home. Firstly, I tried the safe way, building it back up to the same specifications that I had tried before, but this was only effective until the next storm blew in. It was then, and only then, that I started to get an inkling that I needed to find a new strategy to construct a stronger, sturdier shelter that could withstand the battering rains and howling winds that blew up on the place I call Paradise. I still want to live here, there are more advantages than disadvantages but I am now realising that I must take the rough with the smooth and I must continue to work hard if I am to continue reaping the benefits. It’s not a truth I like, but it’s one I must accept. As I stand on the shore and look out to sea I realise that I have come a long way. But I also am now trying to understand that if I do not take the right measures and prepare and plan, I could very easily be washed back out to sea by another storm onto another island that is far less hospitable. And the storms will keep coming, season after season. I just have to be ready for them and be prepared to rebuild every now and again.

Sometimes I just want to get back in my boat and row aimlessly, because then I knew what to do. It was just me, the sea and my little vessel. Sometimes it was hard, but all I had to do was row. There was no real other option. I had only two choices – Do or Die. There was none of this having to go off and live a life…On my island there are so many options, so much to try, so many directions I could go.

To come away from metaphor for a while, what I am trying to say is that I have slipped a few times, and seen the scales dropped back to an unwelcome weight gain. Thankfully, there has been nothing catastrophic, but enough to make me think that I need to take measures before that proliferates into something that will become harder to manage. I know where these gains have come from…Moments of “one won’t do any harm” that rapidly snowball into days. Also from Procrastination, telling myself that, as I know how to fix the issue, I can do it tomorrow, while meanwhile carrying on with the behaviours that lead to danger. It’s a foolish attitude to have – complacency – and there is a battle raging within in me, the desire to stay as I am now, pitted against the wish to continue with the same behaviour patterns that I am used to. I am in utterly new territory right now, stood at a crossroads. If I forge on forwards, using the same weight loss plan that gives me the safety and security blanket I have become used to I could compromise my health by not giving my new body the optimum nutrition it needs. If I go back the way I came…well the outcome of that is obvious and I don’t want that. So I have to either go left or right, and I have no idea here those routes lead.

Ok, one more metaphor….Weight maintenance is like driving a car on your own once you have passed your test. Whilst I had my “L” plates on I was dead-set on passing my test. All I wanted was the freedom of being a qualified driver. So I concentrated hard, paid stringent attention to the road, kept my hands at “ten to two”, did my “mirror, signal, manoeuvre” every time. And why did I do that? Not because I believed it would make me a safer driver, oh no. I did it so I would pass my test. It was short term learning, a means to an end. Furthermore, I had the safety net of my driving instructor by my side to tell me when I was going wrong. Passing my test was like reaching Goal, such a buzz and the Gateway to Freedom. Or so I thought. Going out on my own in a car soon became a terrifying prospect. In my eagerness to be a driver I disregarded many of the lessons that my instructor had taught me. Ok, I kept the basics but did I keep my hands at Ten To Two? Did I heck!!! Did I Mirror-Signal-Manoeuvre every time? Nope! Instead, confident in the little piece of paper that deemed me a Competent Driver, I hit the road, radio blasting away, distracted by passengers, occasionally disregarding the speed limit. Gone was the Learner-Driver, rabbit staring into the distance, hands gripped tightly on the wheel. I can see now why insurance is at such a high premium for new drivers. I am very fortunate to have not been involved in any serious accidents, although I had many, many near misses, and heaven knows how many accidents I may have caused by mistakes and inexperience. But the bottom line is, I still have a lot to learn, and my “P” plates must remain on for some time. And now I am starting to understand why I was taught the things my driving instructor told me to do.

Since passing my test I can now do things that I wasn’t permitted to do when I was learning, such as driving on the motorway. The same goes for weight maintenance after reaching target. I can eat whatever I want, there are no real restrictions. However, as with motorway driving, it is sorely tempting to go hurtling along in the fast lane and break the speed limit. And in doing that you risk incurring a speedjng ticket. More by luck than judgement, I have never received a speeding ticket, however I have accrued the odd “feeding ticket”, and for “going over the limit” it cost me a few “pounds”. The thing is, if you get caught speeding too many times, you may end up losing your licence. The same goes for ‘feeding’, although what you lose is arguably worse, certainly for your health. So, for me, I need to learn how to drive safely and work out how to control my urge to put my foot on the pedal with a reckless cry of “what the heck”. These speed cameras are getting sneakier…

Wish me luck….

The Island - explained....

After writing and then re-reading my last blog post about my allegorical foray onto “The island” I wondered if my account had been perhaps a little too metaphorical. So I’ve decided to write another post which chronicles the “nitty gritty” of my first few weeks learning to deal with the Maintenance side of my weight loss. After all, if I’m to keep this weight off permanently, I need to dedicate as much effort and energy in maintaining as I did in losing. Otherwise, what would be the point of all the hard work over the past year? There are endless resources to be found about how to get the weight off but the information and advice about how to keep it off are far more scant. This is a real pity as it is well documented that the majority of slimmers regain the wright back and then add some to it in a relatively short time. I know, I’ve done it myself, too many times to count. If I had kept off all the weight that I had lost in previous attempts, well, firstly, I wouldn’t have had to have been battling to shift it over recent years but, furthermore, I would probably be in negative weight by now!!! But it’s no use crying over spilt milk (who am I kidding? The milk was never spilt, it was turned into a large tub of ice cream which followed a large pizza that I guzzled in a matter of minutes!), and what is done is done. The past cannot be changed BUT it can be learned from and I hope that the lessons I have picked up over the numerous attempts will stand me in good steads for the future. Despite the lack of info about Maintenance, I did recently read an article about some health research that I found very encouraging. It said that a study had proved that if people managed to lose weight and that they had lost and keep it off for a full year, they stood a very good chance of keeping it off for life. Now I won’t go into “the science bit”, mainly because I’m no boffin myself, but the crux of the matter is that, in a year, a chemical/hormonal change can take place in your brain which alters the part that controls craving, and you no longer crave the unhealthy food that led you to gain weight in the first place. I do hope that is true.

Of course the majority of stuff that you read about maintenance gives the chance of keeping the weight off for life a pretty bad press. And it is very hard not to listen to that, and give it credence that I don’t think it deserves. Yes, it is true. an awful lot of people do regain the weight, and then some. But then, an awful lot of people see “the diet” as just a temporary state that gets a desired result before the dieter goes back to old habits. I am starting to understand a very difficult and, quite bitter, truth. That I will never be able to go back to my old ways ever again. As the mantra says “if you eat what you always ate, then you will weight what you always weighed”. And I really don’t want to go back there. I want to stay on my Paradise island. But that means accepting that I will never be able to enjoy some of the home comforts of my “old life”, as these do not fit well with the ecology and lifestyle enjoyed by the islanders. Instead I must learn to appreciate and value the things that my old life did not offer me. In my case, it is the health, vitality and freedom I feel. Plus, of course, the ability to fit into, and look better in nicer clothes. Recently, my doctor was able to take me off one of the multiple hypertension pills I had been prescribed, because my weight loss had caused a very positive shift in my blood pressure levels. Right now, that feels a lot better than biting into a burger or scoffing a sundae….
I say “right now” because I am also very mindful of the fact that I am at the “novelty” stage of reaching my weight loss target. It has only been a matter of weeks since I reached that magical number. The compliments are still coming in; I still get incredulous when I catch my reflection in the mirror; it’s still a buzz to stand on the scales and see a number half of that which I started on. But, one day, this will just become “normality”. The compliments will dry up, I will become accustomed to my “new” reflection. I don’t know how soon this will be, after all I have spent around 30 years feeling otherwise, but there is no doubt that, at some point, my life on the Island will become routine and I will be craving a new novelty.  And that is where the danger begins. I may well succumb to complacency and expose myself to the risks that I have taken for granted “just for thrills”, in order to get back that buzz again. And, as any obese, or formerly obese person will tell you, one of the quickest and easiest ways to get a “buzz” or to fill an emotional gap is to eat!! Losing control of my eating habits would be like walking mindlessly around the jungle, and falling into a pit of sinking sand.

 I am starting to realise just how many sinking sands pits there are on my island, and how important it is to be vigilant where I step. For those who didn’t get my “diamond mine” metaphor in my last post, let me spell it out. It’s sweets and chocolates. Tempting but ultimately dangerous. Since reaching target, and not wanting to lose any more weight, I’ve had to increase my calorie intake. Strangely enough, this was harder than I thought it would be. I am still, in many ways, in the “dieting” mind-set, and simply cannot eat the quantities that I used to. My stomach has shrunk, it won’t, for now, let me take in much more food. So, at the end of the day, I have found myself with a number of calories to “use up”. “Why not?” I then thought, “treat yourself to a few sweeties, ice cream or chocolate, just enough to make up the extra calories? After all, you deserve it, you’ve earned them”. Seems pretty harmless, doesn’t it? Especially if you stick to your calorie allowance. If only it were that easy….

What I had overlooked, and forgotten completely, is that sugar can be addictive. It is like any other drug, driven by compulsion and the cravings are rarely satiated. Whilst I was in “full diet mode” and abstaining from sugar completely it wasn’t a problem. But once I let that sweetie goodness pass my lips again, something sparked off in my brain saying”ooh, this is good…I like it…I must have some more”. I have found that having “just one chocolate” is actually very, very difficult and actually triggers a craving to have more and more. I have been told it is because sugar stimulates the “reward centre” in our brain, it makes us feel good, so, naturally the brain tells us to have more of it to sustain that “feel good factor”. What the brain neglects to tell us is all the other negative aspects of sugar consumption- weight gain, energy slumps, headaches, diabetes. But at that moment, all you want is the dirty little high you get from sugar.

I am ashamed to say that there have been a couple of occasions when I have given in to the sugar binge, and scoffed an entire bag of pick and mix in a moment of madness. Even when, halfway through the bag I started to feel a bit sick, I persisted. This just illustrates the powerful compulsive urge that confectionery and chocolate can promote in me. Sugar is, without doubt, my Achilles Heel. I would, indubitably, be better off cutting it out of my life altogether. But I like it…..

It is now occurring to me, that this weight loss and maintenance business truly may well be a battle for life. Even after weight loss, there is no “magic pill” that helps you to stay slim for the remainder of your days. I am starting to see just how close the demons that led me to obesity are sitting on my heels, just waiting for me to drop my guard. I am beginning to resign myself that I will probably always be looking over my shoulder, and trying to stay on the straight and narrow path.

I have written before about how I feel my father’s alcoholism influenced my choices in my formative years. I certainly seem to have picked up the “addictive gene” if it exists, or, at least, learned the behaviours common to an addict. I am an addict myself, currently in recovery, but still just a bag of pick and mix away from the slippery slope all the way down to regression. Many years ago, in trying to understand and cope with my father’s behaviour I attended Al-Anon groups who offer support to families of alcoholics. It was here that I learned the belief that “alcoholism is a disease” from which there is no cure, only a period of recovery. I believe that this applies to all forms of addiction and compulsion, including those which lead to weight issues. Therefore I cannot expect to be “cured” of my overeating issues, I just need to learn to how to deal with them. Sometimes it makes me bitter. How come there are people out there who eat sweets and burgers all the time yet never gain weight? Why can’t I be one of them? The truth is, I probably can’t. I never was before, so I’m unlikely to have miraculously changed now. This is just my cross to bear, my disease. I crave bad foods and they make me fat. So the only way to avoid being fat is to fight and resist the cravings. It’s a very tough truth but a very necessary one.

I try to look at it this way, why should I have it all my way? Nobody else does. There are people out there who suffer from life-threatening allergies to foods or substances. I bet each and every one of them would give their eye teeth to be able to consume or use the thing that would, essentially, kill them. Peanut allergy sufferers must sometimes crave a slice of toast smothered in SunPat; those with dairy intolerance would probably murder for a large slab of stilton. But the risks are just not worth it. Admittedly, delving into a bag of white chocolate mice won’t send me into anaphylactic shock but a continued habit would ultimate kill me, with a very slow and debilitating death by obesity. And I want to live as long as I can.
I would love to eat mindlessly but the cold, hard fact remains that I can’t. And I have to accept this. I must learn to get into the habit of telling myself “it’s not worth it” when I start to crave the chocolate.

I’m sure I’ll have slips, I already have, but, perhaps if I keep trying it will come easier with practice. That Devil on My Shoulder may never completely go away but I’m slowly working out ways of ignoring him.

One of the tools I have been using is the “MyFitmessPal” app, which logs all the calories that I consume and expend on a daily basis. I find this really useful as it helps me plan to stay within a specific calorie target. I’m currently working my way up through weekly calorie goals to see how much my body can “tolerate” before I start to gain weight again. The problem with weight maintenance is that it is not an exact science, we all metabolise our food at different rates, according to our activity levels, genetic makeup and other varying factors which I don’t even try to understand. There are plenty of guidelines out there that suggest what your daily average calorie intake should be, according to your current weight and exercise levels, but the bottom line is that you really have to adopt a bit of a “suck it and see” attitude to find out what suits you as an individual. Currently I’m taking in between 1800 and 2000 calories a day, and my weight has remained stable. But I am aware that it is early days and my body is still getting used to the extra food I’ve started taking in again. Something tells me that it is going to take a while before I get things right, and, even then, I’m probably going to have to watch what I eat, to some degree, for the rest of my life. That is a daunting thought but I know now that the benefits are worth it. Since I came away from the strict regimen of the Cambridge Diet, where products were provided and specific food types in weighed amounts were only permitted, I feel like somebody has taken the stabilisers off my bike. I’m wobbling all over the place, occasionally falling over and having to pick myself up, dust myself off and “get back on the bike”. My son is actually currently learning to ride his bicycle, and it’s not coming easy to him. Every time he loses control or falls, I have to gently assure him that mistakes and slip-ups are an inevitable part of learning and it is paramount that he is not disheartened and gives up altogether. Throwing a hissy fit and launching the bike into a nearby hedge, claiming that you never wanted to learn to ride anyway, will only result in you being the only one missing out when your friends go on a bike ride. I need to coach myself similarly…

The only thing with using calorie counting apps or any similar approach is that you still have to be brutally honest with yourself, otherwise it renders the whole exercise obsolete. It’s no point “forgetting” to log that extra cupcake you consumed because when the weight inevitably piles on, you have no way of understanding how it happened. Brutal Honesty is the ultimate tool needed to improve ourselves and grow. Nobody wants to admit being a failure, but none of us are perfect, and the only way we truly learn is through our mistakes. I’ve made a few mistakes, but by Facing The Music, and admitting to them (and in my case, logging the calories), I’ve given myself the opportunity to rectify my errors. In my case, it has meant that I’ve had to deduct the calories from my “daily allowance” another day, and steel myself to compensate for my misdemeanors, but, it’s true, you can’t have your (cup) cake and eat it. You gotta pay….

Another weapon I keep in my arsenal against the Battle of the Bulge is exercise. I really have discovered a love of getting out and moving, and am probably verging on the edge of addiction to Zumba, but at least it’s an obsession that pays healthy dividends. I’ve also taken up running, and been working on the Couch to 5K. In fact, I inadvertently started myself a little running club!! Whilst my son was playing rugby on a Sunday morning, instead of shivering pitch-side for two hours in the wind and rain, I decided that I could put the time to better use by starting to get active. So, just like Forrest Gump, “I just ran”. And like Mr Gump, “I got company”. Some of the other Rugby Mums started to join me, and, even though the rugby season is over, we still meet up once or twice a week to run together. That is very motivating. A few weeks ago my daughter and I did the 5K Race For Life in aid of Cancer Research. Now that was a buzz! I’m thrilled to say that, unlike when I did it many moons ago as an overweight individual, I didn’t just walk the course. I ran in intervals for half of it. In fact, for the last 200 yards to the Finish Line, I actually sprinted! That was worth it for the look of incredulity and abject pride I saw on my husband’s face as I sped past him, a flash of pink, glowing with achievement. I think I now actually have the running bug. In a couple of weeks, my daughter, one of the Rugby Mums and I are doing the “Run or Dye” event, a 5k walk/jog/run in which they throw coloured dye into the air at every 1km marker, so that you emerge at the end, sweat-streaked and covered in rainbow splashes, much like a participant of the Indian Holi Festival. After that, in another ten weeks, more Rugby Mums and I are doing the “Shine Half Marathon Night Walk! … then there’s the Moonwalk next May….

These little events, I feel, will help to keep me motivated. It is something I never could have done when I weighed 24 stone, and I am so thrilled I can do them now. I have a whole list of things I’d like to do now that I’m slim and light enough to do it.
I do hope that this will be incentive enough to keep me on the “straight and narrow” so that this weight loss stays off for life. I know it won’t be easy, I never start my zumba classes or running sessions saying “oh goody, time to beast myself” but I always end them feeling fabulous. So I also know it will be worth it. This journey is by no means over….wish me luck.

Living On An Island....

Over the past year, since I’ve been blogging about my weight loss, I’ve used the metaphor for my “journey” of rowing a little boat across sometimes stormy seas, to reach the “Paradise Island” of my goal weight.  Well, I’ve arrived, I am on the island.   And it truly is beautiful. It certainly looks like Paradise to me.  For a while, I just stood on the shore, sinking my feet into soft, silvery sands, feeling the sun on my back and surveying the beach in front of me.  There was only one problem. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life stood on a beach, listening to the waves lap on the shore, much as I would love to. I needed to find a home, make a life and survive here. And right then, I did not know what lay beyond the forest of fringed palm trees that begin where the sands end.  Whilst I was rowing, the island was just a “place to get to”. I didn’t really care what was there, I just wanted to reach dry land so I could stop rowing. I didn’t even really consider what I would find once I arrived….. And so, as one adventure comes to a close, another adventure begins. This one is called Weight Maintenance. To drag us back to reality for a second, a couple of weeks ago I reached Target on my weight loss. In total, over slightly more than 12 months, I have lost 170lbs. It is now official, I weigh a little bit less than the sum amount of weigh that I have lost. I still find that thought pretty astounding and every so often catch myself telling myself “Wow! 12 stone!!” I have decided to stop trying to lose any more now, even though I have fallen short of a “Normal” BMI by 5 pounds. Officially I am still “Overweight” but my family, friends, colleagues and the mirror tell me otherwise. It would be so easy to get hung up on attaining that elusive “Normal” accolade, but I have decided to sit where I am now and see how it goes. After all, I have “halved myself” by reducing down from 24 stone to just under 12stone. As long as I can stay under the 12stone mark I think I’ll be happy.

“As long as I can stay”….now there’s a pointed remark if I ever made one. The closer I drew to my Target weight, the more mindful I have become of how much more of a challenge it will be to keep this weight off for life. After all, I’ve only been learning new habits for a year, I still have a portfolio of 30+ years of bad habits that could easily slip back if I allow them. I’ve been here before, a classic yo-yo dieter, on a roller coaster of successes and failures. How am I going to keep on the straight and narrow this time? The short answer is “I don’t know”. I have a feeling that it will be a long series of experiments, much trial and error…

So, back to the island…

As every intrepid explorer knows, there is only one way to discover what lays beyond the palm tree forest. You have to go forward and investigate. And this involves taking risks, venturing into the Great Unknown…There are positives and negatives to this. On the plus side, it can be exciting, ripe with discovery and new experiences. Plus, with all the rowing I have developed a fitness and stamina that I didn’t know that I had, I can handle a lot more surprises that are thrown at me. But on the other hand, the jungle is filled with hidden dangers – pits of sinking sand, ravenous beasties and plants that look delicious but may poison me. And I have no map, no instruction manual, no tools…Even my little rowing boat provided a place to rest and the horizon was always a place to aim for. Now I am Lost In Paradise….
So, I have been on a few fact-finding expeditions. On the first day I only ventured a small distance into a clearing in the forest…so far so good…so the next day I explored a little deeper…..and so on…

One day, on my ventures, I stumbled across a diamond mine…the gems were so sparkly and tempting that I wanted to reach out and take one. I have no need for diamonds here on the island, they bear no true value. What I really need is to find and gather food and water to sustain life…but these gems were just so shiny……So, cautiously, I reached down and plucked one. Holding it in my hand gave me a thrill, and I was relieved to discover that no harm came to me from taking it. But there is a problem with diamonds…you can’t just have the one! One looks lovely in a solitaire ring, but what about the matching necklace and earrings…? So, I took another diamond, and another…and another… 

Unfortunately what I didn’t realise was that, within the diamond mine lay a pit of sleeping, poisonous snakes. The removal of one diamond is not enough to disturb the snakes, but if you take too many, then the movement will awaken them and you run the very serious risk of getting bitten. There is no antidote here to their venom and you risk a very slow and agonising death, surrounded by the beauty you were attracted to but now regret removing… Furthermore, if you fill your pockets with too many diamonds, you have no room to store the things that you genuinely need. So perhaps I need to review just how much I actually need these gems… I have since learned that, in the local dialect, the snake bite translates as “death by chocolate….”

As I have explored, I have come to realise that I am not alone on this island, there are indigenous natives that live here. I have observed them from afar, trying to understand their ways and emulate their methods of survival. Some of these efforts have been successful, I was able to locate the best source of clean water by silently following them to the waterfall and gathering some for myself when they had departed by a safe distance. But many of their other ways confound me. I have tried to mirror their ways of hunting for food but with little success so far. It has been frustrating. Why can I not pick up a bow and arrow like them and effortlessly shoot down a bird for dinner? When I try, I seem to stumble and scare away my prey. My rudimentary weapons do not shoot straight. So, for now, I must content myself with picking up nuts and berries or nibbling on the remains that the natives leave when they have feasted on their quarry. I have pontificated over this frustration for some time and come to the conclusion that the natives, who so effortlessly survive on this island, have done so for generations. They are not strangers to this land as I am and have developed skills which they have passed down over eons. How can I expect to live like they do when I have been here for only a matter of weeks? I must have patience, learn slowly, copy the ways of the locals and maybe one day I can integrate myself with them and survival will become second nature to me. After all, we come from very different worlds, me from the land of plenty and indulgence, they from the island where they don’t do pizza delivery!!

Sometimes I miss the home comforts that I enjoyed before I was shipwrecked by my own health risks and began my journey across the empty, seemingly endless sea. As I rowed, I fantasised about the charmed life I would lead when I hit dry land. I would cavort through lush, tropical forests, with exotic flowers in my hair, like the actress in a Bounty Bar advert….I would befriend the animals who would willingly gather together in Disney-esque fashion to build me a beautiful treetop lodge where I would live out the end of my days feasting on exotic fruits. Now there are days when I would murder just to get a Wi-Fi signal!!! I miss my old life, the accessibility and speed of it, the lack of effort required to get any food I desired, the lack of effort needed to do anything, really. When, at the end of the day I am exhausted and aching from a hunting trip, feeling a little grubby and yearning for a comfy sofa, a takeaway and the box set of “Friends” I have to remind myself what I have left behind. I now breathe perfectly clean air, drink fresh water that has been untampered with. I am fitter and healthier than I have ever been from the exercise, not only from the rowing to get here, but from the hunting and gathering of food. The sun shines almost constantly, the sea is clear and warm, the surroundings are far more beautiful than the industrial wasteland I left behind.

My little rowing boat is still sitting on the shore. I could get into it again any time, and let the currents drift me back to the other, darker horizon where all is familiar and easy. But do I really want to do that?
Not really. It’s going to take a while but I’m going to make this island my home. I’ve been saved from the seas and granted a new life. It will require hard work and there will be days when I wish I had never set foot here, but I’m determined to do this. Wish me luck….

I Did It!!!!

This week, for me, has been an utter whirl of anniversaries and accomplishments, and I still feel as if I’m floating on a cloud. Here’s hoping I don’t fall off too soon. As mentioned in my previous blog, May 14th was the one year anniversary of my initial meeting with my Cambridge Weight Plan consultant. And what a year it has been!! After last week’s horrible and unexpected gain of four pounds, which took me nine pounds away from my ultimate goal of losing 12 stone in exactly 12 months, and essentially “halving myself” in a year.  The gain was very disappointing, but I didn’t let it deter me. I stuck religiously to my 1200 calories a day plan, and kept up with the exercise. It was incredibly tempting all week to drop the calorie intake and hit the exercise even harder, in the hope that those pesky nine pounds would magically melt away. Instead I gave myself a thorough talking to and reconciled that “what will be, will be”. Numbers shouldn’t matter that much, it’s how you feel that counts…. Of course, that’s what I told myself…but it don’t stop me hopping on and off the scale several times a day and counting my calories to obsessional level….. The fated day arrived… Things didn’t go quite to plan. I had to change the time of my appointment due to a misunderstanding over the start time of my son’s new swimming class, but my consultant was able to accommodate. So, come High Noon, heart in my throat, I found myself knocking on a door that had become so familiar over the past 12 months.  My consultant greeted me with her customary light bulb smile and I presented her with an orchid, in Cambridge colours naturally, to commemorate “our anniversary”. My consultant blushed and immediately apologised. My change of schedule had ruined her plans, she had arranged for a florist delivery for me at her home to surpirsie me with, while our original appointment was ongoing. Oh well, that she would drop them over later. That would be something nice to look forward to. (and they were worth waiting for, a stunning bunch in shades of my favourite colour purple!). W e moved upstairs to her office and I sat down in the chair which, just a year ago, I could barely squeeze into. After a few formalities, it was time…to step on those scales. Now, as I have already said, I had been obsessively scale-hopping all week, however, the results had fluctuated all over the place, and, also I knew that my scales and my consultants (the ones that mattered..) rarely agreed with one another. All I did know was that I had definitely lost something… So, as I had done 42 times before, I stepped cautiously on to the scales, waited for the beep. The beep came…there was silence, for what seemed like an eternity. Then my consultant spoke…. “YOU’VE DONE IT…NINE POUNDS OFF!!! …YOU WEIGH 12 STONES EXACTLY!!” No way….No fricking way….really????? What black magic was this?  Actually, what white magic was this?  Had the Weight Loss Fairy taken pity on me and paid me a visit? Whatever it was, I was jubilant, there were tears in my eyes. There were hugs dished out. My consultant was delighted, but not in the least bit surprised. “I had a feeling you’d do it” she said, as she handed me the “12 Stone” rosette that she had concealed on her desk just in case the result hadn’t been quite so good. So there I was, I had achieved the goal I had wanted so badly, on the very day that I really, really wanted it to happen. And just after I had finally resigned myself to the fact that it didn’t really matter. Isn’t it funny how sometimes the thing that you have been desperate to attain for a long time finally appears after you have stopped stressing about getting it? Is it possible to want something too much? Is the key in this the acceptance of your current circumstances? I have heard many times of this phenomenon, especially in the stories of couples who have been trying for a baby for many, many years with no success who eventually reconcile themselves to the fact that it may not happen, only to discover, soon after, that they are blessed with a pregnancy.  Now I’m not trying to belittle the heartache of childlessness by comparing it to the tribulations of trying to shift unwanted pounds, but I think that the principle still stands in any scenario where we maybe want something too much….  Do we give off  “Desperation Pheromones” that somehow hamper our progress and prevent success?  With anything that you want so badly, I agree that determination and persistence are key, but I am coming to realise that, before that, we must undergo a process of Acceptance. When, many years ago, I was trying to come to terms with the effects of my father’s alcoholism I joined the Al-Anon support group who work in association with Alcoholics Anonymous to support the families and friends of alcoholics. Both groups subscribe to the Twelve Step programme, the keystone of which is Acceptance. This means admitting that you are powerless over alcohol / the alcoholic (or any substance or behaviour of abuse), and allowing yourself to feel and reconcile yourself with the negativity that these things have caused you. It’s not an easy process, it involves working THROUGH the pain that you have probably avoided for many years, allowing it to wash over you and weathering the storm. If you can do this successfully, you will learn that all storms do pass and you will emerge stronger for having survived. For me, in my weight loss journey, it involved looking at myself long and hard in the mirror and no longer the denying the undeniable facts. I was FAT, I was UNHEALTHY, I was UNHAPPY with my size. My weight RESTRICTED me, it PREVENTED me from doing so much. I was AFRAID of doing anything about it. The day that I gave in to those feelings was a very dark one, but it was also one of the best choices I made. It took COURAGE, it took DETERMINATION, but, hell, it was WORTH IT.

I now understand, completely, why Acceptance is so important in the process of self-growth.  It is the ploughing of the field before new seeds are planted. It is the clearing of the weeds so that healthy plants can grow and flourish. But, as I’m sure any farmer will tell you, the ploughing is one of the toughest and most laborious tasks in the farming calendar. But the most necessary…

So here I am now, just a few pounds away from my target. I have decided to call it a day on my weight loss when I reach “eleven stone anything” and then work towards the more challenging task of maintenance. 

For 12 months now, I have rowed long and hard in my little boat across vast and seemingly horizon-less seas. Sometimes the oceans have been treacherous, other times it has been plain sailing. 

A few weeks ago, I cried “land ahoy”, and now I have moored my little boat in shallow waters and am wading knee-deep in crystal waters towards the idyllic silvery beach of my Paradise Island…the land of Slimness!!! 

Oh, how I’ve dreamed of this moment, when I finally step onto dry land and sink my toes into the warm sands. 

The only problem is, that my dream always ended there, when I reached my destination. 

I have been so focused, for so long, on “the journey” that I haven’t given any thought as to what I will do when I actually arrive. From a distance, the Island looked beautiful and inviting, shimmering like a prize jewel from afar, but now I am here I am filled with trepidation. 

What awaits me beyond the sandy shores? 

Is my island populated by blood thirsty cannibals waiting to devour me when I step into their forest lair? 

Do hungry beasties lurk in bone-strewn caves? 

Will there be fresh water and enough food to sustain a permanent life there? 

Or will I run screaming back to my boat, rowing like crazy to escape what once seemed like Utopia? 

These are questions that can’t be answered right now, but to turn away at this stage would be folly. Once I arrive on the shore, I may allow myself a small time to fall dramatically to the floor, sprawling like an exhausted Robinson Crusoe. But then, I must pick myself and muster up yet again the courage and determination that drove me to row across the uncharted waters. There may well be cannibals and beasties, but if I was strong enough to master the oceans then I know that I have the strength to overcome these hurdles too.

Wish me luck……

"An Unexpected Gain| (apologies to Tolkien,...)

I don’t normally write blog posts on two consecutive days, but after yesterday’s positive and jubilant entry I crashed down to earth a little bit within hours of posting . I had my weigh in yesterday evening. Over the months I’ve come to actually look forward to weigh ins. In all the times I have been to visit my consultant, there are only two occasions where I have registered a gain, once after Christmas and then after my holiday in April. Those were totally justified gains, I had veered off plan, intentionally, and deserved the result that the scales showed me. All the other times have seen pretty significant losses. All is in balance in the universe….Until yesterday.

Straight after work, and before dinner, I took myself off to my consultant’s home for the Moment of Truth. I had made the usual contingency preparations. No big meal, no overdosing on the water, ensuring that I had selected lightweight clothes to wear, several trips to the toilet (including the one at my consultant’s – any opportunity to eke out a few more ounces..) and I was ready to see the results. For me it had been a good week. I had “stepped up” to Step 4 upon reaching the 11.5 stone milestone (you have no idea how excited was as being allocated those extra 200 calories a day!!) but, to offset this, I had also upped my exercise activity, throwing in a couple of weekly running sessions (several circuits of the pitch with some of the Rugby Mums during training) in addition to my thrice-weekly Zumba sessions. The previous day I had also clocked up some 18,000 steps on my FitBit during a mammoth shopping trip, achieving a personal  best on my footsteps. I was excited but also little nervous. Excited, because at the previous weigh in I had found myself at only 5lbs from a Twelve Stone loss, essentially “halving myself” since last May. Nervous because I had been doing some naughty scale hopping over the last few days trying to anticipate what the results might be. The scales had fluctuated a lot, some days registering a loss, others a gain. But I wasn’t too worried, last week my bathroom weigh-ins showed that I had stayed the same, but by the time I reached my consultant I had dropped five pounds. That pesky apparatus was clearly unreliable.

So , armed with this information and mis-information, I tentatively stepped on the “official” scales and waited, with baited breath for the Beep of Truth…. 

Behind me, where my consultant sat, I heard an uncustomary sound…...the sucking of teeth. Having heard this noise many times emanating from mechanics and plumbers with bad news to impart about the cost of repairs, I bristled. This was unusual… 

Then came the words..”You’re not going to like this…. You’ve gained FOUR POUNDS…”

“What?????”  My inner monologue, more used to bathing in the glow of success, let rip a string of very demotivating expletives…”How the hell..???”.

I was confused, shocked, dazed…suddenly the world had tilted on its axis and thrown me about. “How can this be..? I’ve been so good…? What’s going on?”

I felt cheated. When I had gained before, I knew why and I had no reason to quibble. I had enjoyed  a good time and was paying the price. But this time was different, I had genuinely not misbehaved, in fact I had beasted myself on the exercise front. It was so unfair. What was the universe doing to me?If I had gained , at least deserved to have had a bloody good time earning it!!! This was wrong…

So, composing myself as best I could, I sat down graciously in the chair, trying to display a beatific smile but there was no hiding my dismay. My consultant did her best to console me, even to the extent of weighing me again and taking my measurements. But the truth remained. I had gained four pounds and not even lost any inches to compensate.  Sensing my need to “talk this out” my consultant offered what consolation she could. “it’s probably water weight from increasing your exercise, you’re building muscle and losing fat”. 

Now, when I first started talking about taking up running, even before I actually commenced on the programme a colleague of mine, a stalwart Marathoner had warned me that “you may actually gain a bit of weight when you first start”. Of course, I had brushed this off, because, naturally, this wouldn’t happen to ME, and they only said “may…”. I didn't want to hear those words so I dismissed them. But here were the facts, staring me in the face, those naughty, muscles, tearing though a sudden burst in activity were repairing themselves by holding on to the water in my body. And as any women of childbearing age knows, water retention is the enemy. It was the only answer. But I didn’t like it, I didn’t like it at all…

That night, I slumped back, a very grouchy Mummy, to my husband and kids, who were eagerly awaiting the usual jubilant announcement of how many pounds I had lost. They didn’t get the response they were expecting and over dinner that night the usual animated conversation degenerated to the occasional bark and mumble. I was not a happy bunny.

Once the kids had retreated to bed, and my husband had slunk off reluctantly on his night shift, I grabbed my laptop and started Googling “Exercise and weight gain” like a woman possessed. I wanted to be sure.. .. absolutely sure that there was no other reason, no other more easily remedied reason to be exact. But each tab I clicked on told me the same thing, it was very likely to be water weight gain from the exercise. So why was I so obsessed? Why did I need to KNOW so badly? Well Knowledge is Power. The only problem is that Knowledge can’t whisk away those pesky four pounds and that’s what I really wanted more than anything else….

Now that the dust has settled and my mood has been lifted a little by the beautiful summer weather we are experiencing, I've had a chance to contemplate and analyse my reactions to the gain. 

It is perfectly natural,  I admit, to be disappointed when our efforts aren’t rewarded in the way that we believe we deserve. I also admit, however, that my reaction was a little bit extreme and inappropriate and there’s obviously a lesson that needs to be learnt from this experience.

So what is life trying to teach me this time? Here are my thoughts…

Being a person of my persuasion with a tendency towards addiction and compulsion, and these go hand in hand with obsession. This can work well as a driving force to getting things done, but it doesn’t prove so useful when things don’t go as planned. I wrote a blog a couple of months ago about how “when you make plans, God laughs” but, clearly this message needs hammering home a little harder. 

Coming up to the home straight on my weight loss journey, I am finding myself desperate to get to the Finishing Line, which, last week, was just a half stone or so away. But the problem is, I forget that I have been running a Marathon, and not doing the 100 metre hurdles. 

How many of those completing the 26.2 mile slog are witnessed crossing the end line with a hop and a skip, and a sudden burst of energy? Not many. In fact the majority of the runners take the last few steps with palpable and visibly painful effort before slumping unceremoniously to the ground in sheer exhaustion and relief. They are not inclined to do the “lap of honour” like the sprinters….

And I must realise that this is how it may be for me… 

My journey, so far, has been a relatively easy one, the weight has come off quickly and regularly and I have seen the pounds and stones slip behind me. Now I have to work harder on the final stretch. This does not rub well with my psyche and I’ve come to realise that I am still very easily seduced by instant gratification.  Only now I had replaced the buzz that comes from consuming sugar and fat with that of seeing another great result on the scale. Life is telling me to slow down…and to calm down…and this could be my biggest challenge yet.

The little “devil on my shoulder” , who never misses a trick, has already been whispering suggestively in my disappointed ear. Just yesterday, as I stomped around my local supermarket, in a post weigh-in fugue, he began with his little words of temptation…”Go on..buy yourself a chocolate bar…you deserve something even if you’re not rewarded with a weight loss… Feck it..what harm can it do?”  Thankfully the angel (or Fairy Godmother) on my other shoulder has upped her game in the recent months and was able to carefully steer me away from the confectionery aisle. 

I was also offered a form of “temptation” by my consultant (although I believe that this was done with the best of intentions) in the form of suggesting that, perhaps I would like to reduce my calorie intake again, or decrease the amount of exercise I took. 

I did consider those options but in the end I decided against it. Fairy Godmother had the upper hand… I suddenly understood that my focus had to be on the Big Picture and not the relative minutiae of one “bad” weigh in. 

Why had I embarked upon this journey in the first place? 

Was it so I could clock up a number of rosettes on my fridge for every stone I had lost? 

Was it so I could boast about an unblemished record of losing weight each week? 

Nope – I did it for my health. 

And what could be better for my health than a good exercise regime and a long-term healthy attitude towards food? I needed to keep going forward not turn backwards, just for the sake of the thrill of another big loss on the scales.

I see, now that, that this is going to be a tough lesson to learn, but it is an absolute essential one if I am to sustain the healthy life I have craved for so many years. I need not to find another outlet for my obsessions and addictions, but to release the need to indulge these at all. I need to stop feeding the monster within, the one that craves thrills and gratification, and instead to learn to nurture a stillness in my soul and a quiet satisfaction that I am on the right path. 

Ronan Keating got it wrong. Life is, in fact NOT a Roller Coaster…well not all of it. Yes, there are times we get to go on fairground rides in our lives, and these are equally exhilarating and terrifying times. But these rides only last minutes. We spend a lot more of our time just queuing up, waiting to get on the ride, and even more just doing what needs to be done in life. But it doesn’t mean that our lives are any the less enriched by the quieter times we experience. 

It has been one heck of a ride for me, so far, but now it is time for me to find a sweet spot by a tranquil riverbank and just “be” , content that it is ok to sit still and exist.

This is going to be a tough one…wish me luck!!!

The Secret.....

This week saw quite the landmark for me. At my last weigh in I found that I had lost another five pounds, bringing my current weight down to 12st 5lb. This figure means a lot to me as it was my initial target when I first began trying to lose weight this time. I’m not exactly sure why I picked this figure, I think it may have been the lowest I managed to get down to on a previous weight loss attempt many, many moons ago. By ‘many moons’ I am talking a good twenty years if not more. It struck me just today that I have spent at least half of my Twenties, the vast majority of my Thirties (give or take a year, when I lost the weight before piling it all back on again) and the first part of my Forties in a physical state where I have weighed in excess of 20 stone. Not a very nice statistic, but no more – that figure will be relegated forever to ancient history… So here I am now, just five pounds away from “halving myself” , from a life, and happiness, threatening 24 stones down to a comfortable, energetic 12st. And I’ve achieved it, so far, in just under a year. So I am feeling contemplative and very, very grateful…. People approach me all the time, now, to ask me how I managed to lose weight. The ask me what is “The Secret” to my success. Well, after keeping it under my hat for a year it’s time for me to do the Big Reveal, to disclose the Truth about how I have so succeeded so far. So here goes….. The Secret Is…(drum roll…)…There is no Secret! (oh dear, I can hear the sounds of people reaching to click off the page as I type….) But, bear  with me, please. There is no Secret but there is a Big Obvious Truth ( the kind that comes in neon, six feet high letters) that is staring us all in the face. The problem with Truths, is that very few of us, including me, actually want to see them…. If you want to get scientific, the basic equation of weight loss is : More Calories Out + Less calories In = Weight Loss. But I think that there’s a little more to it than that. Science is all well and good but it doesn’t take into account the emotional and spiritual factors that have an inconvenient way of interfering with our day to day lives.  So I’ve been doing a lot of exploring over the past twelve months and come to this very simple conclusion. You can apply this to any diet you like, be it Cambridge, SW, WW, 5:2 or any other convoluted nutrition plan… So here is my Secret -…… Losing Weight Does NOT Make You Happy. It will NOT fix your problems for you. Ok, I can sense the impending mouse clicking already…. I am sure that this simple statement will l disappoint a great number of people. How many of us have told ourselves that our lives would be much better if only we were thinner, that our quality of life would be somehow magically enhanced on the mythical day that we slip effortlessly into those size 8 jeans? Some of us get to that target, but many of us don’t, or if we do, it’s a fleeting moment of glory before we slide back in bad habits and the ensuing conclusion that “it can’t be done”. So I maintain my statement. Losing weight cannot possibly make you happy. Only you, the wonderful person inside can do that. It took a very long time for to realise this and to finally understand that my weight gain was a SYMPTOM of all the bad things that were going on in my life, and not the cause.  Long before I was able to embark on this weight loss journey,  I had to work on fixing my head, getting myself straight and reconciling myself with the poor image that I saw reflected in the mirror.

I have come to believe that we each possess a certain amount of energy within us. Not the physical stuff, but the emotional and spiritual energy. Trying to lose weight, especially if you are or have been an emotional eater, expends a vast amount of that energy. It takes a lot of effort, determination, dare I say it, Willpower. The problem is, that if some of our energy is diverted dealing with other matters, which, more often than not, can be more pressing and urgent, then we simply do not have the resources required to dedicate ourselves to changing ourselves into the people we want to be. It’s pretty simple, really.
 The problem is that Obesity has been cited as the One True Evil, it’s the first bastion that the medical researchers cling to. And it is also one of the “Easiest” things to fix, if you believe all the hype of the diet industry. “Just eat less and you’ll get skinny” they cry. What they don’t tell is HOW to eat less.

My advice to anyone who wants to embark on a challenging journey such as I have is this: 

Get Your Heads In the Game First. Take a long, deep look at your life and see what other things you need to change first. What are the aspects of your life that are draining and blocking that emotional energy? For me, it was Toxic Relationships. It took me a while to realise but I was beset by Emotional Vampires in my life, and I was allowing them to suck the very life source from me. And as I became more and more drained, I needed to find a replacement source to sustain me. For me it was Food. But it didn’t work. The Vampires kept sucking and I kept eating, and all that happened was that I got fatter and fatter. And the problem didn’t go away. Eventually, I just cracked, nothing else had worked, I couldn’t run away so I had no choice but to turn around and face my demons. I stood up to them, I told them to leave me alone. It was a painful, terrifying process but one that I had to go through. And I do not regret it. Once the dust had settled and the Vampires had retreated from my life, slowly and surely I began to feel stronger…the energy that had been stolen from me for so long began to ebb back into me. With this energy came a self love too, an innate pride in having mustered the courage and strength to take what I deserved and reject what I did not. And so, a little seed of thought began to germinate in my head….If I had the inner strength to tackle those demons, maybe I had the power to broach others.  Finally I had the energy to tackle my weight loss. And I haven’t looked back so far…..

So that is my Secret… straighten your head before you tackle your body.

Strangely enough, “The Secret” is the title of a best-selling book, all about the Law of Attraction. I have yet to actually read all of this, but I do know that the principle of this book is that “Like Attracts Like”. This means that, as I did, the more you give into Negative Energy , the more likely it will seem to be bestowed upon you. Conversely, if you approach life with a positive and thankful attitude,then life will give you more to be grateful for. Of course, this could be dismissed as hokum, and I’m sure that there there are plenty  who will provide examples to the contrary, but it certainly seems to be working for me! Ever since I took that momentous decision to pick myself off the floor, then blessings seemed to start landing on on my doorstep. Maybe they were always there and I was too deep in my own misery to see them, who knows. All I can say is that life seems a lot rosier to me right now. Of course, even in all this glowing positivity, I am acutely aware that I am living in a very comfortable, unchallenged lifestyle right now so it is easier to see life from the sunny side. We are not beset by illness or poverty, we are secure and happy. I often ask myself, how would I cope if life were to suddenly throw me an unpleasant curve ball. Would all my efforts diminish and would I resort to the destructive and self-defeating coping mechanisms that I relied upon so many times in the past?

This is where the true hard work comes in, and I am currently at the stage of re-assigning my beliefs and thought patterns and endeavouring to change the way I think. Even now, as I suspect we all do, I have that little voice (or Devil on My Shoulder) encouraging me to stray off the righteous path. This voice can be pretty convincing, it knows me well, how to exploit my weaknesses and foibles. Thankfully now, I am learning to listen to another voice that exists within me, one that is learning to speak up and put the Devil in his place. For a very long time I believed that initial Devil voice, after all, it came from within so it must be true. And I became a slave to my Devils’ wants and desires, most of which were very bad for me. I am learning now not to give credence to this voice and to stop, think for a moment and wait before  acting compulsively upon its demands. If I slow down for a second, and wait, the other voice, soft and reassuring, like my own little Fairy Godmother, slips in and gently guides me back down the right path. You just have to wait for a moment. After all, Cinderella’s godmother was clearly a bit of a last-minute merchant, But it did Cinders the world of good when she finally turned up!! So when the Devil speaks up , telling me of the virtues of that delicious cake I hang around until the fairy Godmother slips in with a whisper, “you don’t really want that, dear, you’ll feel guilty and terrible for eating it, and it will make you fat…”

The Devil is at his strongest when we are at our weakest, when our energy is diverted by trauma, drama and tragedy. He is the ultimate Emotional Vampire. So how do we defeat him? This is my strategy… The Devil hates repetition, he doesn’t need it, if he is doing his job properly he only needs to slip in one seductive suggestion and we’re hooked. So to really piss him off, find yourself a Mantra, some affirming positive words you can repeat over and over in your head until you have drowned him out. I was thinking long and hard about this recently and I have now found something that stroingly resonates with me: “Food Never Got Me Through Anything. It Didn’t Fix the Bad Times”. Let me explain…when I reflect on the bad times that happened in my life, the times I struggled and faltered, what are the things that I remember that  helped me to survive, the little life rafts that I clung onto that stopped me going under forever? For me, it was mainly people, good friends that supported and tolerated me, folks that held me up when I had no energy of my own. I can remember the things that they said to me, the gestures they offered and the places they took me.   I can remember songs, movies, quotes that resonated with me at the time because they gave me hope or made me fell less alone. These are filed under "Good Times through Adversity" and they really were life savers. I can draw on these unforgettable moments to sustain me when I'm feeling blue. Strangely enough though, I simply cannot remember the foods I ate during those dark periods. I know I ate, lots of very bad foods, because I got fat, but that’s where the details fade out. So why was the food so forgettable? Because it did nothing for me, it gave me nothing of use to aid me in my recovery…. So, why oh why, did I consistently turn to food when the going got tough?? What magic quality did I think it was going to impart to me? So that is my mantra when I’m feeling down and want to reach for something sweet and sugary because I’m having a tough day:

“Food Never Got Me Through Anything. It Didn’t Fix the Bad Times”. I will repeat it over and over again until the message finally sinks in.

Try the exercise for yourself, think of a difficult period in your life. Firstly, congratulate yourself for surviving, And then, make a note of all the things that helped you get through. I bet you won’t find any list of any foods there.

The only person whose life can be changed for the better by food is a famine victim….

I guess you can call that my Secret. I’m still working on the rest. Wish me luck….

Land Ahoy!!!

It’s been a little while since I wrote a blog post, but in that time the Easter holidays have happened, and I took nearly three weeks off work for the kids school break, during which time the family and I spent a week in our favourite spot in the UK, my Mum’s chalet at Caswell Bay on the Gower Coast near Swansea. Before I go into that, I’d better quickly update on my weight loss progress so far…. It has now been 45 weeks since I first started on  Cambridge Weight Plan and I have lost a total of  11stones and 5lbs. That works out at an average of around 3 and a half pounds a week, or a stone a month. Not bad going eh? My BMI has dropped from 52.6 to 27.7.  I have lost 15 inches off my waist, 17 inches off my hips and 13inches off my bust. Instead of squeezing into size 26 clothes, I am now comfortably slipping into size 14s (I don’t think I have worn this size since I was a teenager!). And that is just the statistics! Beyond the numbers lie the true benefits…the increased confidence…the extra energy…the sense of achievement…These are the true trophies of my journey so far….and land is finally in sight...!!! I have yet to decide exactly where I want to set my target at, my original plan was to get to 12st 5lb (actually my original, original plan was just to lose some weight!!). This was a figure I remember aspiring to in a previous weight loss attempt in my early 20s. However, now that number is just four pounds away, I have decided that I want to go a little further… If I want to achieve a “normal” BMI of a 25, I will need to lose an additional 16lbs and get down to 11.5st. This is a possibility, and I may just go for it, however, I am now frequently being beset by well-intentioned family members and friends who give me “the concerned look” and say something along the lines of “..Now you aren’t going to lose any more weight are you..??”  This is then often followed by ‘worries’ that I may start to look ‘gaunt;’ or ‘get too thin’ or ‘affect my health…’

Please don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for the interest in my health and I do appreciate that such observations are done purely with love and affection. Another thing  I am also fortunate for, however, is that I seem to carry my weight very well these days. So when I receive these remarks, I have to carefully explain that I am still, technically, “Overweight” when it comes to my BMI. Of course, how much credence still should be held to BMI is up for debate, but the bottom line is that I don’t quite feel that I am at the weight that I am happy to settle on quite yet. So the figure is up for review…. I have decided that when I reach 12stone exactly then I will see how I feel. 
That figure, for me, will be quite the milestone as I would have officially EXACTLY HALVED MY BODY WEIGHT!!! And that milestone is just 9lbs away!!Incredible!! 
Sometimes I truly have to pinch myself..and there is a lot less of me to pinch now…. (As an aside, I do get a distinct thrill feeling up my newly protruding bones – collar, hip and ribs are frequently fondled…). So, let us see how I get on. 
Watch this space…..
Curiously, if I do lose any more than 12 stone, I’ll then be “in the negative” – the amount of weight I would have lost would be more than I actually weigh!! Mind blowing!!!

So, back to my Easter Break… I would be telling a great big, huge stinky lie if I claimed to have stuck to plan 100% during my time off work. In fact, of the 18 days that I had off, only 10 of those were what I would call “sticking to plan”. 

The other eight…? Well, there was curry, there was a Lindt Bunny Easter egg…there was pasta ...champagne…burger lunches with the girls…dinner provided by family members…and even some ice cream (as I mentioned previously, we visited Swansea. It is the law there that all visitors there must check in to a Joe’s Ice Cream parlour and sample the wares at least once. The Key Lime Pie flavour is to die for… Being a law abiding citizen, I duly obliged..).
I am very fortunate that at my post-holiday weigh-in, I still managed to register a 2lb loss. 

This may have something to do with the fact that during my time off I started on the Couch to 5K programme and began running and every morning, before breakfast, took myself on a wee jog. There were also a couple of family cliff top walks which  helped to burn off those additional calories.

 An added bonus was that I was able to do my runs on my favourite beach, when the tide was out and there was hardly a soul to share my morning with. There is nothing quite as uplifting as jogging beside the surf, sea-breeze in your face and the morning sun on your back, knowing that with every step you are striving towards a healthier, fitter you. I think that running, along with zumba, may well be my new addiction, there is definitely something addictive about it!! 

My favourite “running moment” by far was the morning I spotted my uncle (who I hadn’t seen for around a year) as I walked down to the beach. I waved enthusiastically at him and was puzzled to not receive the customary acknowledgement back. It was only as I approached him closer and saw the recognition slowly register on his face that I realised that he simply had not recognized me. He was used to seeing a 24 stone woman lumbering towards him, not the nearly half-sized, energetic niece in lycra and running shoes that stood before him. I will not deny that it was a moment I relished!

I had several of these “Wow” moments during our stay in Wales, as we spent some of our time visiting relatives, all of whom I had last seen before I embarked on this weight loss effort. It was very gratifying.

Last week saw a sad anniversary in our family, but also the anniversary of a life-changing decision. 
A year ago, my husband lost his mother after a brief illness. Naturally it was a very hard time for us all, and it was only compounded by the fact that his father passed away just five months later. However, it was these losses that spurred both my husband and I to look at our lifestyles and finally come to understand that something had to be done to change the unhealthy habits that we had developed and that led to both of us being obese. When you are a parent yourself, losing your own parent can bring into stark reality of your own mortality. When my mother in law died it hit us hard how devastating it would be, one day, to our own children when we leave them behind. What struck us both harder was the sudden understanding that we were doing nothing to prevent an accelerated march towards early graves, with the bad food and lifestyle choices that we were making. Something had to change. And change it did. Both my husband and I are now much slimmer, healthier people, looking forward to spending many more years, hopefully, in our dotage enjoying our children, and, maybe one day, grandchildren. If my In-Laws left one true legacy for us, it was the  jolt to our systems that we needed to make a positive change that might ultimately save and extend our lives. And for that I am grateful.

I was recently looking back at some of my old blog entries and re-read my “Wish List” one, which I wrote early on in my weight loss journey. In it I chronicled a number of goals that I wanted to achieve in the future. Reading through it again I realise that I have achieved many of these targets already. There are only a few left to reach and I’m pretty confident that I can tick these off very soon in the not too distant future. When I first wrote this list, strangely enough exactly nine months ago today, some of the ideas seem a little ambitious and I did wonder if I was deluding myself as to whether I would ever attain these dreams. But now, after this “nine month gestation period” I have “given birth” to a New Me!!! A Me with more hope, more positivity, more energy and a greater zest for life than I could have imagined. So I guess it’s time for a new Wish List…Here goes…. ·          I have already touched on, in previous blogs, that I am doing the Race For Life with my daughter this coming June. It is my ambition that I will run or jog at least part of the 5K route, maybe even all of it. Walking is just not good enough, anyone can walk. I’m going to RUN!!! Next year, I will sign up for the Breast Cancer Moonwalk in London. I will probably start with the 13 mile Half Moon, but, who knows, a year is a long time. Maybe I’ll be up for the full 26 miles…. ·          This next one is a biggie..I’m going to do the Rooftop Walk at the O2 Arena in London Why is it a biggie? Mainly two reasons, firstly, it’s a pretty steep climb and will need a certain level of fitness to complete without collapsing in a heap and requiring a winch-lift from a paramedic helicopter halfway through the effort. Secondly, and more importantly, I am utterly terrified of heights. And I need to conquer this. When I told my husband of this plan he baulked at my idea, knowing how many trips up towers and high monuments I have refused due to my crippling terror of anything above three floors high. But this is my logic…I was terrified of losing weight, the thought of it completely intimidated me. But I overcame that fear and have reaped the benefits. If I can do that with weight loss, then why not tackle my phobia of tall buildings? Apparently the view is fantastic from the top… ·          For the same reasons I am going to attempt Go Ape, swinging about on rope ladders amidst trees, safe in the knowledge that my weight is fully accommodated and I will not plunge rapidly to the ground when the ropes give way under my excess bulk. ·          I will walk to places that  cannot be accessed by car, starting with the Cinque Terre in Italy  when we go there on holiday in August . (Of course I shall have to convince the rest of the family to do that too..) ·          I will join my friends on a sponsored mountain walk. Some good pals have done Snowdon and Scafell Pike. The next time they do something similar I will join them. I have just realised that my new Wish List completely involves physical challenges. It is this increased energy and physicality that I find myself enjoying more than anything else. It is an incredible feeling, when you have been trapped in an unfit and unhealthy body that restricts you from doing so much, to realise that you have been released from those impositions. Just like when I ran on the beach, I feel free and more alive than I have done so for a very, very long time. And that is a feeling that I want to hang on to for as long as I can. I’ve pretty much caught up with my antics over the past few weeks now. One other thing that we did recently was to have a family photo shoot. My mother had bought us a voucher for a session including a free print, so, on the last day of March, myself, my husband and our two kids trooped to a local studio for a session of posing. When I say trooped, I am probably being misleading. I trooped, the rest of my brood had to almost be physically forced through the studio doors. Let’s just say they were a little reluctant….My husband is not fond of having his photo taken at the best of times, my 14 year old daughter was stressing about spots and the fact she hated her teeth, and our 10 year old boy just wanted to clown around , striking superhero poses. As for me, well, sporting my svelte new figure I was determined to preserve the moment for posterity: “Come on children, let’s do this while Mummy is thin and not too old…” We have yet to view the results of the session, so the jury will remain out until the photographs are viewed. Wish Me Luck…….