Confessions...

A friend of mine shared a quote on Facebook the other day that strongly resonated with me, for all the wrong reasons. It was supposed to be humorous, but, in me, it sparked a deep-seated guilt. The quote went like this:~ “ I didn't want my family to judge me so I walked past them with 2 cookies on my plate and 4 in my pockets”  Pretty harmless, eh?  We’ve all done it haven’t we?  Well, probably, yes. But for me, and possibly for others like me, it triggers shame and remorse at the many, many times that I have employed devious and subversive methods to distract from and disguise my terrible eating habits. Since I have embarked on my new, healthier lifestyle, my husband has  bemusedly enquired, on many occasions, how I have managed to gain the weight I have, as he has rarely witnessed me gorging on food and snacks that amount to the calories that must contribute to my size. There is a reason for this.  I do not have underlying health issues that affect my weight, no underactive thyroid or side effects from medication. The answer is quite simple. I have indulged in my worst eating habits when there are no witnesses present. I have eaten in secret, in the safe sanctuary of denial. It seems a little ironic that being fat can hold any form of secrecy. After all, by our very presence Fat People are extremely overt. We stand out in the crowd, are still the subject of ridicule and “harmless” ribaldry; we have to buy clothes in “specialist” shops; the “obesity epidemic” is constantly up for debate. And in all this, as our bodies are getting larger, our self-esteem is getting smaller.  It was very hard not to enter a fast food restaurant and wonder if onlookers were watching me with disapproving eyes; as I hauled my bulky frame through the supermarket I would contemplate whether others are reviewing the contents of my shopping trolley with critical eyes; when I browsed through a clothes shop that does not cater for my size, looking for items for my daughter, I considered whether the assistants believed that I am deluding myself.

It is this very conspicuousness, I believe that can drive folks like me into conducting our shameful, compulsive behaviour behind closed doors, or in deceitful and subversive manners.  And, like any addict knows, compulsion goes hand in hand with shame, and shame breeds denial. Therefore the problem does not go away, it just gets hidden deeper and deeper and more difficult to tackle.

For me, the true antidote to Secrecy is TRUTH. But it is a hard and bitter pill to swallow. It requires courage e to admit our transgressions, for if we do not admit them, we cannot acknowledge them. And if we do not acknowledge them, we cannot change them.

So, as part of my Campaign of Truth, I am going to purge, to confess some of my “Food Sins”, in the hope that I will never choose to repeat them again, and will learn to think more healthily.

So here goes….

•         I have, indeed, hidden cookies in my pocket whilst carrying others on my plate
•         I have gorged on cakes, trifles, ice creams etc and then carefully concealed the empty packets so that my actions are not discovered.
•        I have bought food “for the children” which never reached their hands.
•         I have “looked after” party bags for my children on the front seat of my car whilst we travelled home from friends’ celebrations and then feigned empathy at my offspring’s  disappointment that somebody “forgot” to include the cake or sweets, whilst surreptitiously wiping the icing from my mouth.
•         I have concealed chocolates  in my desk drawer and waited for the office to clear before consuming  my stash.
•        I have waited for my husband to go on night shifts and for the children to go to bed before scoffing an entire tub of ice cream.
•        I have entered chocolate shops, pretending that I was purchasing a selection “for a friend”, going to the extent of “umming” and  wondering out loud what “they” would like in a theatrical effort designed entirely to ensure that the shop assistant would not suspect that I would be going home and stuffing my own face with the whole lot in one sitting.

My husband used to have a “Magic Toblerone Bar” he kept in the fridge. This bar, of which he would occasionally consume one section at a time, had the mystical property of “magically regenerating” every now and then.

My other half has an excruciatingly irritating and completely alien habit of only eating what he needs and then putting the remainder back in the fridge 

The next time he indulged a craving he would return to the fridge, anticipating, perhaps, six segments left, he would discover, curiously, that  the entire bar would sudden be whole again. How could this be?? What witchcraft was this?

Well, I’m sure you’ve guessed….Yes, Dear Reader, this poor unfortunate blogger had failed to resist temptation again and, lacking the self-restraint demonstrated by her spouse, consumed the entire bar  in a very short space of time. This left me with a conundrum…whilst my husband might overlook a segment or two missing the next time he fancied some triangular Swiss confectionery, I couldn’t imagine that the absence of an entire bar would go unnoticed. Therefore, I had no option but to traipse to the nearest chocolate retail establishment and purchase a replacement so that suspicion could be evaded. 

Of course, in the early days  (as, after all, this was not a one-off scenario. Oh No!) I was sloppy, and merely replaced the partially-eaten bar with a whole one. 

But, once I was rumbled, I got wise.

 The next time my compulsion got the better of me, I did, yet again, venture out and obtain a replacement. However, as my deceptions grew deeper, I learnt to remove a number of segments before returning it to the fridge so that it resembled exactly the previous bar prior to consumption. It was the Prefect crime and I had become a Criminal Mastermind.

I did not, however, restrict my nefarious activities to Toblerone bars. Other victims of my misdemeanours included several Terry’s Chocolate Oranges, a number of large Dairy Milks and, on one particularly debauched and shameful occasion, one of my children’s’ chocolate Advent Calendars. All had to be replaced similarly.

Whilst I can see some humour in this situation, the underlying pathos in all of this is not lost on me. These are the desperate actions of a desperate individual too lost in their addiction and denial to seek a way out and escape to a healthier lifestyle. No matter how contrived and complicated my deceptions became, no matter emotionally and mentally draining it was to construct and uphold these masquerades, I was more prepared to sacrifice  that part of my soul than to invest  the same amount of energy into redressing my own wellbeing. It wasn’t the Toblerone that needed regenerating, it was my skewed self-esteem.

If I were to read back the last few paragraphs and replace the references to food with references to alcohol or narcotics, they would not be out of place as part of the rhetoric of alcoholics and junkies.  The issue is the same.

So how am I addressing this? Well, I am still most definitely a work in progress. I am grateful right now that the benefits of the weight loss and health that I am enjoying are far outweighing the momentary sensation that I feel when I place something sugary on my tongue. I just need to continue to reinforce that in my head so that the “default” thinking switches to self-love and not self-delusion.

I know, for a fact, that the above list of confessions is not definitive nor exhaustive. Those few examples are just ones that popped into my mind as I considered my blog. Do I feel better making these confessions? After all “confession is good for the soul”. Well, in a way, yes I do. I don’t feel fabulous that they occurred in the first place and I am frustrated that I am still battling with the consequences of these and many other actions. But at least these secrets are no longer festering inside of me, as damaging as fat and sugar to both my body and soul. Now I must forgive myself. And forgiveness is only possible once a wrongdoing has been admitted.

I was wrong. I was stupid. But I’m trying to change that.

Wish me luck…..

Making it work

After my mega-blog last week, there is not a huge amount to report at the moment. I’m really pleased to say that the weight loss is still progressing nicely, I have now lost two and half stones in the seven weeks since I started this venture. Two weeks ago I was disappointed to have “only” lost two pounds, and, rightly so, I was berated heartily by my peers for complaining about it. In most diets that would be a commendable loss, however, having been used to weekly losses of four, five or six pounds, I felt a wee bit robbed. Sensing my despondency as I stepped off the scales, my on-the-ball consultant asked me where I was in my monthly cycle, and it just so happened that my period had started on that very weigh-in day. I was advised to maybe attribute the small loss to that phantom- “water retention” and continue on plan, as, with luck, the scales would set themselves right the following week when my hormones had stabilised. What had really frustrated me was that I was only one pound short of reaching the two-stone goal. Now, unlike other slimming groups and clubs, I am not rewarded with stickers, rosettes or fridge magnets, however it is still nice to mark a milestone, and the fact that I had fallen so close to the target was a distinct blow. No matter how hard I try and focus away from them, numbers on the scale and in my weight loss record still dominate my psyche. I really hope that, one day, they will not matter so much. Anyway, I resolved to keep going. In the past, even a slight “setback” like this would have the potential to catapult me into the self-pity pot and I would feel compelled to “cheer myself up” with food. If it had been a weight gain it could have escalated this course even further and this has been known to propel me into “fuck it mode” where I give up on the diet altogether because “it obviously doesn’t work”. Ah, denial…it is so much easier to apportion blame than to take a good hard, honest look at yourself and face facts. A young lady I know, who does my nails and has become a good friend, has recently featured in the media as she has lost a very impressive 13 stone, going from a size 28 to a size 10. She achieved this through Bariatric surgery. Although this isn’t my method of choice, mainly because, unlike her, I am not 22 and have a family to consider which could be impacted by my undergoing risky surgery, I have come to commend her courage and tenacity in the past year in which she has lost this weight. I say “come to” because, I am ashamed to admit that, at first, like many,  I considered this method of weight loss to be “cheating”. Reading through the newspaper articles about this lady on social media I have noted that there are plenty of others who still share this view. Naturally, as is the curse of internet anonymity and subsequent “trolling” much of the negative comments have been delivered with such vitriol and scorn that it makes my own skin crawl, but I cannot deny to myself that I used to share the basic sentiment of distrust and derision aimed at those that have achieved a goal that I, truly, have craved but felt unable to achieve. I have touched on this subject before and I am learning, more and more, that the only way forward to a new, better place sometimes involves breaking through barriers. Barriers that you have built up yourself. It’s all part of a self-protection mechanism, as the saying goes, the truth hurts, and it is a natural human urge to avoid pain. So we protect ourselves from short term discomfort as a knee-jerk reaction, unaware that the long term problems can be far more damaging. Thus, I make excuses, lie to myself, apportion blame and accuse. I need to stop this. Now, when I remove   the scales (excuse the pun) from my eyes and see things for how they really are, I truly understand. My friend has not “cheated”, she has endured a year of discomfort, invested a lot of money; she has had to completely review her habits – for life – and taken considerable risks to achieve the result. And she has been rewarded for it. It has been an incredible journey and she needs to stay on this path for the rest of her, hopefully extended, life. That is no faint achievement. It deserves commendation and praise, not sneering and criticism.  I’m a big fan of Harper Lee’s popular novel, "To Kill a Mockingbird", with its iconic quote: ““You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”. This is very, very true and promotes compassion for one’s fellow man. However, do not forget to include yourself amongst humanity – get to know yourself totally inside and out – warts and all, then show yourself true compassion by being truthful and frank, nurture what is really good for you, and you might stand a chance of being a better you.  Anyway, back to the weight loss. After my “disappointment” I continued along the “good” path, stuck to plan and refused to be disheartened. At the following week’s weigh-in, I harboured a little fantasy of “wouldn’t it be nice to have skipped the two stone mark and gone straight to two and a half stone?”. Of course that would have entailed an eight pound loss which, even though I dreamed of it, seemed a very unlikely possibility. Well, Dear Reader, sometimes dreams do come true. To my utter amazement and delight those magical eight pounds had, indeed, melted away and I was two and a half stone lighter. Of course, I’m not expecting this to happen every week, but it’s nice to have that moment at least once. Talking of expectations, I’m still working on addressing my fear of failure. All the time I am doing well I battle with the inner voice that tells me that this success won’t last, that I will eventually fall off the wagon, that the “honeymoon period” won’t last and I will, one day, end up back where I started, or even worse. So I am trying to look at things differently. And here are my thoughts. Instead of focusing on where I made the same mistakes in the past, I will concentrate on the areas that I am approaching differently. I have lost considerable amounts of weight on previous diets and, while I experienced short term success, I am coming to understand that I didn’t learn new habits. Reducing calorie intake has the obvious result in weight loss but it is the sustained changes in behaviour that determine long term results. A famous quote attributed to Einstein (although not confirmed) is “ 'The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results”. And in every other diet, I was doing the same thing – cutting calories but not replacing unhealthy options with healthier ones. And in certain diets, I wasn’t even practising portion control as certain plans permitted ‘unlimited’ and ‘free’ foods. This was great for me at the time, I could gorge on what I liked amongst the free items, safe in the knowledge that weight loss was imminent. However, as the weight dropped I should have tempered the quantities. And instead of opting for the ‘free’ meat or pasta, I should have gone for the better options of fruit and vegetables. But I didn’t have to – the diet told me it was ok. And when I fell off the wagon, as I inevitably did, I hadn’t learned to reduce what was on my plate, therefore counteracting any other items that slipped under my knife and fork too. On the path I am on now, I am realising that I have to be stricter with myself if I want to permanently undo the results of my non-discipline. It goes back to the “no pain, no gain” scenario. It’s all well and good promoting diets as “extra easy” or full of “free” food if the dieter does not have an addiction to sugary, fatty food, as I believe I do. These plans work for folk who approach with a modicum of self-discipline and who can sensibly adhere to healthier options. Unfortunately, this does not seem to suit my personality at all. I have exhibited an addictive personality for as long as I remember and I will indulge that wherever possible, using sneakier and more self-deluding methods as I degenerate.  As a teenager I used to work in a pharmacy in a dodgy part of town frequented and occupied by the local junkies. A number of these had attempted to address their drug habits by seeking help from the doctor who prescribe methadone to replace their heroin use. They were supposed to come to the pharmacy for a daily prescription of a controlled amount of methadone, which would gradually taper off and, theoretically, reduce the need for opiates. But of course, the addicts were smarter than that. They would turn up only once or twice per week, allowing the supply of methadone to accumulate so that they could binge on it and get the ‘hit’ they needed. No doubt they were supplementing their addictions with other substances in the interim also. And, unsurprisingly, they were destroying themselves. Now this may seem a bit of an extreme example, but to someone of my disposition, being offered a selection of ‘free foods’ within a diet plan is akin to telling a junkie that they can’t have heroin but they can help themselves to as much methadone as they like. The effects may take longer to establish but the results are eventually the same. And you never learn the discipline that you need. This, so far, is why things are different on this plan. Of course, I still have the right to deviate, but if I deviate I cannot justify it as being “allowed” because it is “free”.  Right now, nothing is free, if I want to succeed and stick to the programme I have to have only what and how much the plan tells me to. I have to weigh and measure, I must restrict my intake. Plus…and here is the big thing…I have to eat vegetables and salad or starve. There is no alternative to lunch, no lashings of pasta nor piles of lean meat. It is salad or nothing. And I have to say, I’m getting used to it. My consultant jokes that, in my earlier blogs I referred to green, leafy vegetables as  “ the devil’s bogeys” whereas a few weeks later they had been downgraded to mere “rabbit food”. Now that’s progress.  I have mentioned on more than one occasion that I have spent most of my life being “veggie phobic” but, underneath it all was a deep regret that I didn’t have the courage nor resolve to eat them. I even considered finding a way to get hypnotised to force me to like them. Other diets offered me the “get out clause” of continuing to avoid them in favour of other “free foods”, but, now my choices are severely limited. I need this discipline. I need to go “cold turkey” and replace my drug with another substance entirely, one that doesn’t promise a “hit” of any kind, but nurtures my body. And I hope that “rabbit food” will one day become something I actively choose and enjoy. I am getting there…I have been out for meals on three occasions and chosen, and more importantly heartily consumed, a healthy salad each time. Maybe there is hope for me this time… Another change to the other diets I have chosen is my increased consumption of water – this definitely fills me up and I am seeing and feeling many health benefits already. In fact, water has replaced my excessive intake of diet fizzy drinks, in particular Pepsi Max. I definitely used to use diet drinks to satisfy my craving for sweetness (I have always had a very sweet tooth) when I felt I needed to deprive myself of something more sugary and I reckon I was, at the very least, bordering on addiction to diet drinks, too. I have recently read articles on the dangers and side effects of the artificial sweetener, aspartame. It was a very scary read indeed! The list of health issues is quite extensive. Of course this could be considered to be scaremongering but I have to say, I believe that diet drinks were having a detrimental effect on me. I have always suffered from migraines which were exacerbated by my hormonal cycle, and I have always been paranoid about keeping medication on hand to avoid suffering the debilitating pain and nausea of an attack. It occurred to me recently that I have not suffered one migraine episode since I gave up aspartame seven weeks ago. And migraines are a well-documented side effect of this substance. Furthermore, I don’t seem to suffer the same cravings for sweet things I used to since I weaned  my taste buds off artificial sweeteners. So those are the, frankly radical, changes I have undertaken. I do hope I can make these part of my life from now on until the end of my , hopefully now extended, life. One last thing before I sign off. I have also been taking 20 minutes of exercise on the exercise bike at least five times a week for the past few weeks. All those excuses that I “didn’t have the time” turned out to be utter rubbish. Most nights before bed I would catch up on iPlayer or YouTube videos before I went to sleep. Watching these would inevitably reduce my sleep time by 20 or 30 minutes per night. Now I just stick my tablet on the bike and pedal away while watching them during the day. That way I benefit not only from the exercise but also from extra sleep. I started off by managing 10km in the 20 minutes, now I am doing 11km in the same time, so progress is happening!! In the back of wardrobe a fortnight ago, I found a discarded impulse buy - a pair of exercise “Hot Pants”. These are neoprene leggings designed to make you sweat more, and they certainly do, especially in a south-facing conservatory during a heatwave in July! They take a little effort to wriggle into, but I guess that’s just extra exercise! My husband laughs when  wear them as they make a disconcerting swishing noise when I walk, but he’s grateful that I can’t give him a fright by silently sneaking up on him whilst wearing these fashion horrors. So that’s it for another blog. Let’s see what the next few weeks bring. Wish me luck……

Lots to Say....

It’s been a little longer than planned since I last posted a blog entry, but I’m pleased to say that I’m still very much on track. My poor mobile phone had to go to the Phone Hospital with a cracked screen and it took with it all the voice notes I make when I think of something I want to blog about later.  Plus I’ve had a mentally busy week and simply haven’t had the time or opportunity to commit my thoughts to text. Still I’m here now! Since my last blog I’ve attended two weigh-ins and lost 6lbs and 5lbs at each. That brings my weight loss to 25lbs in five weeks. I couldn’t me more delighted. I am fully aware that I won’t lose at this rate all the time, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to see the back of those numbers on the scale. I am hoping that there are two numbers I will never, ever see on a scale again. Well that’s me outing myself as weighing over 14stone , tee-hee!!! Talking of “outing myself”, recently a Facebook blunder led to me ‘fessing up to my 400+ friends on FB that I am currently on the Cambridge Weight Plan. I do, admittedly, have a wee obsession with Facebook and it has proved to be my best friend and my worst enemy on many occasions. This time, it began as the latter and then became the former…. Recently, I formed a Facebook group aimed at folks on the Cambridge Weight Plan who, like me, have a long journey ahead of them. This is where I find Facebook the most useful – in the creation of support communities where folks can safely discuss specific common issues. I have strongly believed for a considerable time that success in conquering demons lies with mutual support from people who can truly empathise and identify with your situation. This group has already gained considerable success and I have gleaned a great deal of encouragement, inspiration and positivity from the good people who share their journeys with me in this little online sanctuary. Anyhow, one day I posted a few sentences about what had motivated me to try the Cambridge Plan to this group.  Or so I thought…  I had actually posted it to my own timeline and unwittingly shared it with every single friend who reads my ramblings. By the time I realised my error it was too late, my remarks had been seen and even ‘liked’ by a good number of people. On realising my mistake, my heart leapt to my throat and I felt really quite disturbed. Until then I had made the conscious decision not to share the fact I was doing this plan. Why? Because I lived in fear of the disapproval and judgement I would receive from people who would not condone my decision to go on this plan. Would they think I was “cheating”? Would they start to have expectations about my progress which I would, inevitably, fail to achieve? It was a terrifying prospect realising that I had exposed myself so transparently and vulnerably to their opinions.  At that moment it dawned on me, I had two feasible options: I could sink into my default state of denial by deleting the post and hoping that nobody would remember it; or I could summon up some courage, apply brutal honesty and admit everything in the open forum of my timeline.  Dear Reader, I hesitated but in the end I decided to take the Road Less Travelled. Even as my fingers were poised above the keyboard I wondered if I was about to throw myself into the Lion’s Pit of Judgement, but I pressed on and hit ‘send’ before I could change my mind. And then, to my surprise there followed nothing but a flood of encouraging and supportive words from my peers….I was, frankly, quite overwhelmed by the compassion and positivity that emanated from all of my friends. In fact, I felt considerably ashamed to realise that, instead of being judged I had actually been the one passing judgement on others, expecting nothing but cruelty and contempt from those who have never shown evidence of either to me. As my journey progresses I am starting to understand that I have been projecting my own deepest fears and insecurities on others. I am beginning to comprehend that this is  part of the denial I have been deeply entrenched in for far too long. “I feel I am cheating” becomes “You think I am cheating”. “I will fail” becomes “You think I will, or expect me to, fail”. “I am afraid of change” becomes “ you will reject me if I change”. Why do I do this? The only conclusion I have come to is that is easier to ignore or  rebel against feelings and thoughts that you have convinced yourself come from anywhere except inside  your own head. You can apply the “stick and stones” approach to disapproval that you tell yourself is being aimed at you. You can apportion blame to others who you see as being uncompassionate to you, and you can then dedicate your energy on fighting these people, and engender a false pride from tackling the detractors head on. I have armoured myself for too long with “fat pride” and “I am what I am” . But this armour was not only weighing me down, it was totally unnecessary. There was no battle.  The true battle is to acknowledge that these voices are in your own head, that there is a mental tape on loop playing within that tells you that you are worthy only of disdain and condemnation. And to recognise this voice for what it is, to fight against it and disprove it will lead eventually to victory in a long-waged war. I am now fighting. I will win. Of course, a true war is really a series of small battles and some I will win, others I will lose. But I must not give up. I must don a new, truer armour – the breastplate of Courage and the shield of Honesty and march forward. I hope that this hasn’t come across a little too “Pilgrim’s Progress” for some readers, but I do like to engage metaphors to put make my point!!My consultant told me that, on reading my blogs, she felt the sense that this weight loss journey was “a life and death thing”. I guess it is, I am fighting for my life. At work the other day, in a totally non weight-related matter, I had to resolve a disagreement with my boss. He told me “you are your own worst enemy”. This has been a mantra my husband has adopted for some time, too. Maybe I should start listening. The only demon I don’t feel ready to disclose yet, is revealing my own weight, not even to those closest to me. I now know that this is linked to the issues I have detailed above, I just can’t yet get over the fear that I may confront shocked faces saying “you weighed HOW MUCH???”. It’s probably in my head. But maybe when I have distanced myself a fair bit further from that number I can finally free myself of its tyranny. So back to the real world. I am pleased to report that hunger still hasn’t hampered me in my efforts. I went with friends to an open-air music event last weekend, which is typically the mainstay of a Gorge-Fest, where food and drink flow liberally. This time  I held my ground, I brought my own supply of food and stuck to it. Preparation and Determination , these are the keys to success! Currently, I seem to be able to mentally flick a switch in my head whenever I get the urge to eat something naughty. I’m only human, if I pass a table filled with doughnuts I still have my ‘Homer Simpson Moment’ ..”mmmm…doughnuts…”  but, right now, I am able to prevent the previously inevitable actions of hand to doughnut – doughnut to mouth. When I go shopping I still make a beeline for the pudding and snack aisles, however these items have, thankfully, remained out of my shopping trolley. When I went to the cinema recently with my husband, as soon as I entered the complex my thoughts were not on the anticipation of the film we were about to see (even if it did have Chris Pratt in it...mmm…Chris Pratt…”) but wondering which ice creams were on offer at the stall that day. These thoughts are just formations of Habit. Habit, as well as Emotional Eating are the two biggest enemies of weight loss. If you repeatedly do the same thing enough times your brain will condition you to expect that action each time you are in similar circumstances. So if, every time you visit the cinema you visit the ice cream stall , the two actions will become fused in your subconscious. You will expect and crave ice cream simply because you are at the cinema! The same goes for passing the doughnut table, eating crisps in front of your favourite show and so on and so forth. I read about this recently and it was a real eye opener to realise that I was fully adopting this behaviour without really knowing it. But Knowledge is Power and once I had found this small nugget (mmm…nuggets…) of truth it lost its power over me. I’m still a long way from total success but now I recognise this way of thinking I can learn to counter it. I once read that a good way of dealing with cravings does NOT involve telling yourself that you cannot have a certain item of food. Not at all. In fact, tell yourself you can eat anything you want! But don’t stop there..the full sentence continues : “you can eat anything you want…but you have to live with the consequences of eating it..” Now doesn’t that change things? Those of us who are parents will already have applied this psychology to our children at some point. Have you ever had a time when your darling little offspring has persistently and repeatedly performed an action that you knew would end badly? Such as pulling the cat’s tail or provoking their older sister. Despite your exhortations they ignore you and continue on their course of action. Eventually the inevitable happens, the beleaguered moggie loses patience and directs a well aimed claw, or the exasperated sibling retaliates. What do you say when confronted by a wailing child? “I told you so..”. Isn’t it about time we listened to our own inner parents before we grab that slice of cake??? Talking of parenting, a little while ago I lost the plot with my youngest child and ‘went medieval on his (literal) ass” (thank you Pulp Fiction for that awesome phrase).  In our house over the past few weeks the only consumers of crisps and treats have been my children. I recently went into my son's room and, behind his bed, unearthed a massive stash of empty packets -crisps, sweets, ice lollies and other items he had nicked from the fridge. This wasn't the first time I’d caught him out  he had been repeatedly offending. Even though I had  given him chance after chance he simply continued regardless  of the punishments. So on this occasion, Mummy went Postal….... I ransacked the kitchen and removed and disposed of all tempting and unhealthy foods, figuring that the only way to prevent temptation was to completely remove the objects tempting him. There were tears and tantrums, begging and pleading but I stuck to my objectives. What frightened me most is that I recognised this behaviour in myself in the past and it terrified me to think that the two most precious things in my life, my children, could end up like me. This compulsiveness I knew so well in myself reflected back through my son scared me.  So now my house is a crisp, fizzy drink and chocolate free zone. There will be treats offered again, as I believe total deprivation is a dangerous path but my son is now encouraged to choose fruit and healthier options. He won't appreciate it now but maybe one day he'll thank me.... This week I’ve also started doing 20 minutes, or 10km , on the exercise bike. All good stuff. After all this heavy navel-gazing and self-contemplation I am going to attempt to lighten the mood by broaching a potentially taboo subject. The Pre-Weigh-In Poo. Having done the rounds of slimming clubs and doctors’ visits where stepping on the scales would be inevitable I am all-too-familiar with this concept. When the dreaded appointment looms, all that you can focus on is what number would appear on that infernal scales and wondering if it would be less than the last time you approached it. And in such critical times every ounce counts! Just as a hot air balloon ditches sandbags in order to maintain altitude, you start considering yourself what you can throw overboard. First it starts with the clothes you are going to wear.. Jeans and heavy boots are a no-no, even on the coldest of days you would rather risk hypothermia than see a gain on the scales. Then comes the jewellery, anything of value must be discarded in case it registers adversely against your progress. However, the balloon is still not floating high enough, so now you have to consider the cargo. Anything you are carrying within the ‘basket’ must be jettisoned as soon as possible. And so, with the ominous Moment of Reckoning approaching you find yourself heading to the toilet, hoping beyond hope that the Pre-Weigh-In Poo will come…You will strain, you will burst blood vessels, you will risk a life plagued by hemorrhoids in pursuit of that elusive bowel movement. If the Poo doesn’t come you are doomed to abject disappointment. If you are fortunate enough to pass a substantial log, well…victory has never smelt so sweet…. I found myself in this very predicament the other week as, half an hour before my consultant appointment I was perched upon my throne urging my bowels to move, when suddenly the ridiculousness of it all struck me full pelt. Why was I doing this? What did I really want to achieve? I have mentioned in previous blog entries that slimming clubs brought out the competitive streak in me and every week I sought the prize of the “slimmer of the week” accolade. A successful dump before the meeting would considerably enhance the chances of me snatching the sought-after fridge magnet from the hands of my adversaries in the group. But this time, I am doing this weight loss journey purely by, and for, myself. I have no-one to compete with anymore, so why am I getting obsessed with moving down the scales just an iota by straining myself when success will come at the same pace if I simply continue on the same path I am by following the plan? On reflection it is utter insanity, what real difference does one poo really make? Another bad habit that I picked up at Slimming Clubs was a concept we used to call ‘Bermuda Triangle Night’. This was based on the fact that the ‘diet’ for the week ended just prior to the weekly weigh-in, and then recommenced the following morning, thus leaving us an evening of indulgence to “blow out” before we stared afresh the next day. Included in this was either a sense of reward (“I’ve lost weight, therefore I shall treat myself with something naughty”) or commiseration (“I didn’t lose weight therefore I shall cheer myself up with something naughty”). This is truly utter madness. I got myself into the predicament of being the size and weight I am by persistently rewarding and commiserating myself with food in the first place, why did I think that I was behaving any differently simply because I restricted this to one night? I hadn’t addressed the one, glaring issue – Food should never be used to provide any gratification other than its nutritional intention. This is a tough one, because food is entrenched with ceremony and celebration in our culture but for those of us who struggle with eating issues, every incident has the potential to become a celebration or compensation. And that is where we fall down. Food should be part of an event, not the primary reason for it. I know I am guilty, when about to go out for a meal with friends, of anticipating more what food will be on offer than looking forward to enjoying the company of good people. This is unfair not only to my friends, but to myself. I am now focusing on finding a new non-food reward or commiseration on weigh-in day. I try to schedule my weigh-ins for Tuesday evenings just before my session of Choir. I love choir, singing makes me happy, how could it fail to? If I do well on a weigh-in, I have choir to look forward to. If I don’t do so well I can cheer myself by singing my heart out. This appointment schedule also has a couple off added benefits. My Tuesday routine is -  come home from work at 5:30ish, weigh-in at 7 then choir 7:30 till 9:30. This forces me to break another insane cardinal rule of weigh-in night: “Thou shalt not eat before stepping on the scales”. If I were to adhere to that I would be starving ! So dinner has to be fitted in before weigh in. And by the time I get home I just want to go to bed, so no late-night nibbles after….Winner!!! I know that this has been a particularly heavy (excuse the pun) blog, but I have had over two weeks since posting of contemplation and rumination, all of which I wanted to commit to text while it was still fresh in my mind. I will end on a positive and more cheery note, maybe even comedic. This morning I attained what is known as a non-scale victory. Whilst getting ready for work this morning, I eyed the blue skies out of my window and decided I would retrieve a pair of linen trousers from the back of my wardrobe to wear. These trousers still bore the price tag from last summer as when I had purchased them they were indecently snug. Today they fitted and, so delighted was I that I paraded around the bedroom and woke my sleeping husband so he could pay homage to my success. I stood pointedly in front of the snoozing bear and just as he opened one weary eye, my trousers slithered unceremoniously off my waist and hips and dropped to my ankles. They were actually too big!! It took a little explaining that my intention was to wow him with my new size, not to cause hilarity with a slapstick trouser moment. Still, laughter burns calories! So that is my latest update. Hopefully the next one won’t be quite so protracted. In the meantime, wish me luck……

A Wish List

Tonight I was browsing Amazon, as I am wont to do of a Sunday evening. As I found items that I quite liked the look of, but didn't want to buy immediately, I sent them to my "Wish List". Clicking merrily away, I got to thinking: What is my Wish List for my weight loss?
In my determination to shed those unwanted pounds I realised that I haven't really considered the specifics of what I really wanted to achieve. All I wanted was to Lose The Weight, to exchange the scary big number on the scales for a slightly less scary one. Of course this is a very common goal shared by many, and  certain benefits of taking this course are well documented - to look better, to feel better, to wear smaller clothes. But these are too generic for me, I am starting to realise that I need to explore the specifics that will motivate and push me further towards my ultimate goal. To me, to simply choose the aforementioned generic objectives would be akin to attempting to put "a fictional novel" in my Amazon list. In fact, it's probably as useful to me as when my husband asks me "what would you like for your birthday" and I reply "Oh just get me something nice". Without being a little more specific I am setting us both up for potential frustration. The same goes for my weight loss journey. If I don't tell myself what I want to achieve, I will always have the get-out clause when I don't reach my target. Just as I couldn't blame my husband if my birthday pressie fails to ht the expectation mark.
So I am going to commit to text some very specific goals that I want to achieve. I am not talking numerical or temporal goals, these are little milestones that I want to pass sometime soon.....

• I want to live a long and healthy life without fear or trepidation at every little twinge in my chest (which is probably just gas).
• I want to walk into the doctors surgery with my head held high, and not with shame that I will probably receive another warning, or that every health condition will be blamed on my weight.
• I want to learn to enjoy vegetables, and actually choose to eat them.
• I want my children who are still pretty veggie-phobic to see me making healthy choices and follow my example.
• I want to take part in sports with my kids, maybe even participate in sporting events with them.
• I want to be able to fit in a wet-suit so I can go swimming with the kids on holiday.
• I want to be able to wear clothes that stop at the knees and be confident to show off my legs, knowing they don't look like overstuffed sausages.
• I want to wear knee-high boots without having to buy them from 'speciality shops' that cater for larger calves.
• I want to be able to walk in high heels without feeling crippled.
• I want to wear sleeveless tops and not want to hide my arms.
• I want my original wedding and engagement rings to fit again.
• I want to wear pretty bracelets that drape around my wrist, not fit my arms like handcuffs.
• I want to go shopping and check the style of the clothes first, instead of looking to see if they actually have my size.
• I want to come off, or at least reduce my hypertension meds.
• I want to join my friends in doing a walk (or even a run?) for charity.
• I want to roller skate!
• I want to be able to sit, and fit, in any seat - anywhere.
• I want to never, ever have to ask for the seat-belt extender on a flight again.
• I want to sweat less.
• I want to snore less.
• I want to never again have to worry that the bunch of laughing teenage lads I have just walked past are actually laughing at and mocking me because of my size.
• I want to enjoy a meal out, and not just anticipate what's for dessert.
• I want to be offered something sweet and be able to, sincerely, say 'No, thank you'.
• I want to pose for photographs where I am not standing or hiding behind someone to conceal my size.
• I no longer want to be "The Fat One".
• I want to no longer be afraid of failing.

I am sure that I will be adding to this list as I, hopefully, progress through my journey. And no mention of numbers or timescales. The weight I have gained is a symptom of my distorted attitudes and self esteem, and I should not treat it as the cause. I am working on the cause, learning to deal with issues and concerns without the aid of food. It is a steep learning curve, but right now, I am willing to do this. I hope this determination stays with me.

Wish me luck.... 

A First Success

Well, it’s always good to start on a positive note, and what can be more positive than to announce that I am now officially one stone lighter than I was four weeks ago. Yes – one Big One, fourteen pounds, six kilos.. I am a very happy lady. The news was broken to me at my weigh-in on Tuesday. As I stood on the scales the consultant told me that, since officially commencing the plan last week, I had dropped six pounds. I was elated. Then she measured me, and we learnt that one inch had fallen off both my hips and waist.  I was delighted.  As she completed my weight record card she suddenly announced that she had made a mistake. My heart sunk, suddenly the trepidation overwhelmed me. What was the problem? Where had I gone wrong? Was my bubble about to be cruelly burst? “Actually, I’ve miscalculated your weight loss. When I told you last week that you had lost four pounds prior to starting on your plan, I got it wrong. You had actually lost eight pounds” Cue party poppers, tickertape, confetti and streamers…. “Really???” I was beyond elated, delighted or even thrilled. I was ecstatic. What a fantastic surprise to learn that my efforts had already paid off so well, And what better motivation? So let’s backtrack to the days leading up to my result… The weekend was always going to be a bit of a spectre looming up for me. I find weight loss to be easier when I am at work. The routine and the consistency help with the willpower, but most of all, the separation from a big kitchen stuffed full of treats and temptations is a big plus. Weekends are for kicking back and relaxing, and our typical family weekends involve large cooked breakfasts, takeaways and occasionally alcohol. Frequently, of a Sunday afternoon I would get the urge to bake and produce a large batch of banana muffins, laced heavily with chocolate chips. As I merrily mixed the delicious, sweet batter, I would tell myself how much my colleagues would appreciate my gift of cakes the next day. As I poured the mixture into the cake tins, I would content myself with how happy the children would be enjoying my baking in their lunchboxes. As I licked the bowl clean of a generous amount of the sticky batter, I would feel smug at how much my husband appreciated the occasional cake. As I removed the warm cakes from the oven I would mentally apportion myself the best and biggest ones. And, over the next few days I would consume these and a considerable number more. Much more than my children and family, and even a few from the batch I had taken to work. So as Saturday and Sunday loomed I started to wonder how I would cope. First and foremost I warned my family that there would be no takeaways and no baking. They were surprisingly accommodating. Then I simply resolved to take it one hour at a time. I can’t even really say how I did it, but, come Saturday evening I realised that I had succeeded at sticking to the plan. I was spurred on by encouraging text messages from both my consultant and a very good friend, and I also discovered a myriad of CWP support groups on Facebook. These really helped, reading the success stories and seeing clever recipe suggestions. I also continued with my campaign of increased water consumption. I have discovered that sparkling water is very good at staving off hunger. Plus, the frequent trips back and forth to the toilet not only kept my mind off the food, but also increased my exercise levels. On Sunday I had planned to check out the local boot fair. These trips usually involve a visit to the burger van as the kids inevitably reach boredom point early on and are most easily assuaged with junk food. And of course, if they’re having something….. Same goes for ice cream and the goods on offer at the local fudge stall….. So on this occasion I decided to come prepared. I brought my salad and soup packet with me. An as the kids chomped on cheeseburgers I munched my greens. My relationship with salad is warming up a little, I’m not sure if my taste buds are changing but I seem to dread opening the lunchbox filed with rabbit food less these days.  I am learning that preparation is key. So many times in the past I have fallen down because I have not organised something wholesome and healthy to eat for lunch and dinner – especially dinner. Coming home after a long day at the office, the last thing I want to do is think about what to have for dinner, let alone prepare it (and as I store most of the food in the freezer, there is also defrosting to consider). So, far too often, the mantra has been “shall we just get a takeaway?” Any day now, I am expecting a Sympathy Card to pop through the door, sent by our local kebab house. Our uncustomary inactivity in the last few weeks can only have led them to conclude that we are dead. So –preparation. Now I make sure that I have an idea what is for dinner each day and that the food is stocked accordingly. I also take a salad, a soup, or at the very least, a small measure of fruit with me (blueberries and raspberries are always a winner) so that I am not caught short if other plans go awry. I did this on Monday when my mother and I took a trip to London. As well as the obligatory handbag contents (half of the contents of my bathroom, a million used receipts and my woefully empty purse) I packed two little snack pots with my favourite berries. We were due on the 3pm train, so I spaced out my lunchtime salad and soup to ensure hunger pangs were averted as far as possible. The reason for the trip was that we had standby tickets as audience to the filming of an episode of QI. My mother and I yomped across London from Kings Cross to Waterloo and arrived at the studios to dishearteningly discover that a considerable queue was already snaking around the building. Being thoroughly British we joined the back end anyway and waited our turn. Frustratingly, when we were just ten places from the front of the line we were turned away as the studio was full. So it was time to revert to Plan B. Except, in all my preparation with regards to my nutritional requirements, I had utterly neglected my recreational needs  and there was no Plan B. My Mum and I ummed and erred for a few minutes and then reached a general consensus that we both fancied a mooch around Covent Garden. I love Covent Garden, it is so vibrant and exciting and there is so much to see and do…and eat…... Anyhow, reaching our destination required another trek across London so mother and daughter duly made our way to the West End. As expected, Covent Garden was alive with fascinating stalls and even more fascinating street entertainers. Every other shop also seemed to stock a veritable cornucopia of confectionery and ice cream. My very own heaven had become my very own hell. Dear reader, I am proud to say that I resisted, and when our rumbling bellies became too hard to resist we popped into our local Bella Pasta where I ordered and consumed (and dare I say it?) enjoyed a chargrilled chicken salad, heavy on the salad. This is quite an achievement for me as I have an over-fondness for cream, cheese and bacon loaded pasta dishes, my favourite being carbonara. As I munched away at the leaves I realised that I had to ‘fess up to my incredulous mother what I was doing. Thankfully, not only was she relieved that I had not taken leave of my senses, she was actually very supportive. So yet another of my fears has proved unfounded. I am starting to understand the fears and obstacles I had previously perceived mainly reside solely in my own addled head, and it is up to me to challenge and overcome them whenever I can. Another fantastic resource of support I have is my husband who has decided to accompany me on my weight loss journey. He, like me although not to the same extent, has suffered the toll of our all-too-frequent takeaways and ill-advised snacking habits. He is not joining me in using the CWP products but he does join me in the healthier choices made for the main meal of the day, and is exercising portion control and dodging the crisps and bacon sandwiches. It means a great deal to have him join me on this quest to become healthier. He told me that he is doing this for two reasons, primarily for his own health benefits, but also because he is acutely aware that the best way to encourage me and keep me on track is to follow me in my plans. I am very grateful to have such support close at hand. There is nothing more demotivating when you are nibbling at a lettuce leaf than to have to share the dinner table with someone guzzling a KFC. Together we aim to live long and healthy lives and see our children and future grandchildren grow up, and our previous lifestyle made the probability far less likely. Now we might have a fighting chance. Our next goal is to increase our activity and exercise more. We do have an exercise bike in the conservatory but it typically adopts the common secondary usage of clothes airer. We aim to address that. I do struggle with trying to get regular exercise and would love to attend classes however the difficulty I encounter with that is that my husband works shifts. On the days he works late I have to look after the kids so can’t get out to classes. On his off days I work late to accommodate my flexi-time so by the time I get home and have dinner, it’s getting too late to go out. This is why we got the exercise bike, which was great – in theory. Of course the other thing, carrying excess weight makes exercise all the harder so I opted for the much less challenging activity of sofa-surfer. I am also planning to use my lunch breaks at work to go for a brisk walk. As I now bring in my salad and soup lunch I don't need the break to go out and buy food. I can eat at my desk and then use the reamining half hour to get some exercise. I must remember to bring in my trainers tomorrow. Things are defintitely changing . I had taken Monday off work for our later London trip and in the morning , my husband, who was off-shift, and I had a few hours to ourselves. Typically these hours would be eaten up by going back to bed, lounging around on Facebook or going out to grab a bacon buttie or four. This morning, as I drove back from the school run, on a bright and sunny day, I passed by the local woodlands where the family occasionally go for a stroll. When I arrived home I shook my husband from his blissful slumber and suggested loudly “let’s go for a walk in the woods”. Now, waking my husband can be a highly dangerous manoeuvre, let alone doing so with the suggestion of exercise so I stepped back, waiting for the hibernating bear to growl and lash out. To my surprise, his reaction was unprecedented. He stirred, blinked a few times, stretched groaned, rubbed his eyes and then said “Alright then!” A little while later, allowing for cups of tea and getting dressed, we were donning our trainers for our first walk together. I am pleased to report that I survived 3km trek up and downhill and we completed it in forty minutes. Normally the same circuit is completed, with children in tow, in at least an hour but little did I know what a hard Taskmaster lurked inside my husband’s unassuming form. Breaks were only permitted at the crest of hills and only to briefly sip our water. He strode on purposefully as I staggered behind him, puffing and sweating and trying to keep up. But I did it, and as I triumphantly collapsed by the car at the end of our trek I felt a strong surge of satisfaction (as well as trembling knees). I am happy to report that I am still doing well with the water consumption and not one drop of fizzy drink (unless you count sparkling water) has passed my lips in the lat fortnight. I am still getting the hang of Green Teas but over the past few days I have taken to starting and ending my days with a glass of hot water and the juice of half a lemon. I actually find it quite refreshing. The toilet and I are still very much more acquainted than usual but I accept that as a good sign that my internal organs are functioning well.  I am also finding a more positive side effect to consuming at least three litres of water per day. As soon as the air starts to get warmer, I have been prone to suffering from terrible water retention, particularly in my feet and ankle. On a hot day, the joints at the bottom of my leg feel like they have been insulated with pipe lagging, my ankles are actually stiff and hard to bend, so engorged are they with retained fluid. It’s one of the reasons I never wear skirts or cropped trousers, I take ‘cankles’ to the next level and I’m not fond of advertising the fact to all and sundry. Since I’ve upped my water intake I don’t seem to suffer much at all from this. Yes I still have cankles but these are ‘food cankles’ not ‘water cankles’. I’m not going to be slipping out of the maxi dresses and trousers quite yet but at least I no longer feel like my legs are pumped up like balloons anymore and the flexibility is much better. Well, that’s about it for this blog entry. On the whole I’m feeling pretty positive , although I still battle daily with the demon on my shoulder who keeps asking me when I’m going to fall down and fail. I now have fourteen reasons to batter him and will do that every time he rears his mischievous little head. I am realising that if I live in the present the future will take care of itself. As for the past, that’s history –literally. So, like Dory. I will continue to “Just Keep Swimming”…

Wish me luck….

Day Three....

So here I am, embarking upon Day 3 of the Cambridge Weight Plan. I am doing Step 3 which, to my relief, includes ‘real food’. I have a shake for breakfast, fruit throughout the day as a snack, a green salad and a soup for lunch. Then for dinner I have a protein-heavy meal with veg and limited carbs, and then a little fruit snack after. I have a milk allowance of half a pint of skimmed, and I need to consume at least 2.5litres of water per day.

So the verdict? So far, so good.

I came back from a fabulous and relaxing holiday in Cyprus on Sunday night. Despite being on my holidays I had already made the decision to make healthier choices about my food. My husband and I rejected our staple diet of bottles of Pepsi Max and opted for water instead; I had fruit most days for breakfast; I ate the salad that came with my meals and left the chips on my plate. Cyprus is a fantastic place for meat-lovers, their kebabs and pork chops are heavenly, all grilled with herbs and wonderfully succulent. The puddings can be a bit of a challenge as Cypriots have a terrible sweet tooth, with pastries drenched in honey and sugar but I coped! I also had to lay off the pitta bread and dips. Fortunately I did most of the driving so alcohol wasn’t an issue. I also spent a considerable amount of time in the pool so my exercise levels were escalated.

If I’m honest, I find it easier to control my urges for food when I am on holiday. For me, food is something I turn to when I am miserable and bored, so sunshine and holiday fun can provide very welcome distractions. The true challenge will come when I am having a ‘off day’ either at work or stuck at home with the rain pelting down and the kids driving me nuts!

Anyhow, on June 2^nd (which happened to be my 15^th wedding anniversary) I arrived for my appointment with my consultant to commit myself fully to the plan. I was utterly delighted to discover that I had lost four pounds since our last meeting. It appears that the small changes that I am already making have had an impact. This is a fantastic motivator for me and has helped to propel me forward in my resolve.

I am pretty relieved that the plan I am on is not the ‘liquid only’ diet. I gather that weight loss may be a little slower but, frankly, that doesn’t bother me. I understand that I must stay on this for the long term and if that involves taking the ‘scenic route’ then so be it. This way my husband can join me in my plans, and I can sit down with my family to eat ‘proper’ food. I mentioned in a previous blog about ‘cold turkey’ but, on reflection, perhaps that was a little inappropriate. I certainly believe that I have some kind of addiction to food and it is these addictive drives that have caused me to gain all this weight, however I am starting to realise that food addiction cannot be treated in the same way as drug or alcohol addiction. If I were a junkie or an alcoholic the only way to recover from my dependency would be total abstinence, but, unfortunately, that cannot be done with food. I suppose the addiction lies with sugary and fatty foods and those can be eliminated as far as possible from my diet, but I still have to eat to live. If I were to have undertaken a more rigid ‘liquid only’ plan, there would have come a time where I would have had to reintroduce real foods again, and I’m not sure if I could address that without feeling a strong compulsion to return to my bad habits in search of the gratification I had been denying myself until then. Doing what I am doing now offers me an opportunity to re-educate my palate and to learn to gain satisfaction and sustenance from the food I choose, under the watchful eye of ‘the plan’. Also, sticking to this longer term may just allow more time for better habits to form. I have always been a bit of an “all or nothing” kind of girl so this is new territory for me. I just hope that I have the resolve and the stamina to see it through.

So how have the last three days gone for me? Well, to start with, I have probably consumed more salad, fruit and vegetables in the last few weeks than I have in the past few years of my life. It is no secret amongst my family and peers that I am pretty ‘veggie-phobic’. If I can avoid the green stuff then I will do so, like the plague. I find them to be bitter and unappetising. I so envy those who can consume veg and actually enjoy them. Even when doing Slimming World, I chose every other option than the ‘free’ fruit and veg.  Unfortunately, on this plan, in addition to the soup, there are only two options – salad or nothing! I am not a great fan of the latter as it tends to result in a hungry and, ultimately, very grumpy me. So I was down to the one choice. Now, in previous attempts at ‘diets’ I have eaten a selection of green, leafy vegetables but they would have been virtually unrecognisable, so slathered would they have been in a calorific dressing (my favourite was blue cheese or coronation chicken) in a desperate attempt to disguise the taste and convince myself that I wasn’t putting the devil’s own bogies into my mouth. This plan, however, does not give me this option and, on Day One, like a chided schoolgirl I reluctantly filled my lunchbox with the green stuff, ready to take the pain at lunchtime. My only saving grace was that I was permitted Balsamic Vinegar as dressing and, the previous day, had discovered that my local Lidl stocked fruit-infused balsamic vinegars in flavours of apple, pear or pomegranate. Unfortunately on the first day I was a little over-zealous with the pomegranate and had applied it liberally to the salad in the morning, so that by the time lunchtime came, I was faced with a box of soggy leaves swimming in a brown sludge. As my stomach was rumbling by that time, I had no choice but to consume it. I cannot report a joyous experience but I swallowed every mouthful, trying hard not to grimace at my desk. I have since learnt to bring a small vial of dressing with me and only apply it prior to consumption and am pleased to announce that yesterday’s salad experience was considerably less traumatic. I did ‘cheat’ a bit by adding some cherry tomatoes. These are not part of the ‘plan’ as they have a slightly higher carbohydrate content, but when I discussed it with my consultant she advised me to go ahead as they are still pretty darn healthy. I am not entirely sure that I am embarking on a love affair with salad but we will learn to tolerate one another. This is a good thing, and also a step forward in my relationship with food. I am eating because I need to and not because I want to. Because I am not necessarily looking forward to food I don’t make all the wrong associations with it.

Another thing that I have increased is my water consumption. I have to drink at least 2.5 litres of water per day. This isn’t too bad, I did wonder if I could handle having to drink so much liquid that wasn’t sugary or caffeinated, but I seem to be handling it reasonably. I heard about an android app called ‘Water Your Body’ in which you can log all the cups and bottles of water you have drunk each day. It even reminds you to drink at regular intervals. I found this really useful as, not only did it appeal to my ‘inner geek’ (I am practically attached to my phone), it also was a helpful tool in measuring exactly how much water I have taken in. The only downside of this new habit is that the toilet and I have become much more closely acquainted, as my kidneys and bladder are wondering why the hell they suddenly have to work so hard. I suffer very badly in the summer from water retention, everything from the wrists and knees balloons, so I am hoping that this will help me too when the heat starts to ramp up. For your information, writing this blog so far has already been interrupted by three ‘comfort breaks’….

As I have given up the Pepsi Max, and other caffeinated soft drinks, for now, I made the decision today that I would replace my cups of coffee at work with Green Tea. So, en route to the office I popped into Waitrose and emerged with a pack of every flavour I could find (I told you I’m an “all or nothing” kind of girl) so that I could sample the varieties available. I have now tried Twinings ‘Salted Caramel’ and ‘Cherry Bakewell’ varieties and, to be frank, I’m not that impressed. They smell delicious, exactly as described, however, inexplicably, the flavour seems to drain away between the lifting of the teacup and the placing to the lips. Still I will persist, I have several other flavours to peruse. Also, drinking these frees up my milk allowance which I can convert to 170g low fat yoghurt. I’ve always been a puddings person, in fact if I could skip the main meal for dessert I probably would. I am hoping that a yoghurt might satisfy me for now.

Office life can be a challenge. Like most of my colleagues I eat at my desk and my peers  are used to seeing me scoffing down a calorific sandwich, a large packet of crisps, washed down with a fizzy drink and followed by a small pot of trifle or similar. Some have already remarked about my change of lunch habits. I have told them I’m on a “health kick”, I don’t really want to mention the Cambridge Plan as I know some wouldn’t approve. I also don’t like mentioning being “on a diet” either, as I feel uncomfortably exposed to the opinions and judgement of others (although this is probably mainly in my own head) and don’t want to become a victim of the self-imposed ‘Diet Police’. Truthfully, I want to do this plan and lose this weight as discreetly as possible, although I do know that, at some point, I won’t be able to hide it. When you successfully lose weight you can become public property, there are some individuals who are genuinely pleased for you, and there are others who are obviously jealous. But all want to hear all about how the weight loss was achieved, and many offer unwarranted ‘advice’ on how to continue. And of course, if you trip up and fall, there will be those who notice, and even those who revel in, your failure. I’m not ready to deal with that so I am quietly doing my own thing and not making a song and dance about it. This is another reason why I am not going down the route of groups such as Slimming World and Weight Watchers – my journey, this time, is for me only. I have shared my decision with only a few close friends who understand and support me (and not even my mother) and am keeping this blog private until I am confident enough to share it with the world.

But, back to office life. The downside of working in a social environment is the continuous sharing of sweets and cakes. We have an entire table (which I have to pass on my frequent toilet breaks) dedicated for the presentation of the many delicacies , biscuits and pastries brought in by our workmates. I. myself, as dictated by tradition, brought back local fayre from my holiday in the form of four boxes of Cyprus Delight. This table presents the spectre of temptation, especially in the afternoon when energy levels are flagging. So far, I have been able to resist, and also refused cake during a team meeting which again, traditionally, may as well have had ‘cake break’ included in the agenda. I do hope that I can continue my resolve.

In order to motivate me, I have a small post-it note on the corner of my computer screen. To everyone else it looks just a five-bar-gate tally count related to my work. It actually is a count of pounds lost so far and already totals four. I hope to add much more in the coming months.

My biggest fear is, and will probably remain, whether or not I can maintain this enthusiasm, drive and momentum in my weight loss journey. For the last two days, as I have gone to bed feeling pleased with myself for getting through an entire day, that demon on my shoulder pops up reminding me that “it’s only been two days” “you got this far before and then you FAILED..”. I really don’t know how to squash this little demon, and my only strategy is to ignore him and continue regardless. One day at a time….

I also worry about how I am going to cope with social events. I have an evening out in London with my mother on Monday (we are going to watch the filming of one of my favourite comedy quiz shows – QI) and Mum has already suggested going out for dinner. I’m not really sure how to approach this without going off-plan and without letting my Mum know I am “on a diet”…….. This requires careful thought….

Finishing on a positive note, I had an interesting and, I believe, very telling dream last night. I strongly believe that in our dreams our subconscious has free reign to send us messages metaphorically to show us which direction we should be moving in or where we are going wrong. I dreamt last night that I had a dramatic haircut, reducing my shoulder length hair to a close-cropped pixie cut. In my dream, I was incredibly nervous as to whether my husband and friends would approve, in fact I wasn’t even sure if I liked my new style myself. However, everybody loved the new look and it made me feel fabulous. My interpretation of this dream (especially as I have no intention of cutting my long locks of which I am quite proud) is the inner desire to change my appearance dramatically and the fear of disapproval. I relate this directly to my weight. In fact, many moons ago, before embarking on a weight loss attempt I did get my hair cut, and I realised later that it had been a small concession to dissatisfaction with my appearance.

So there we have it, Day 3 is underway, only five days till my first Weigh-In. I’m actually quite excited and trying to shut up the demon who tells me I could be disappointed. Now time to endure the salad…….

Inspiration

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
I walk down another street.” 

― Portia Nelson, There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery

I discovered this little poem some time ago, when I was going through a tough time in life. It epitomises how I keep making the same mistakes over and over again, and how easy it is to repeat learned behaviours that are detrimental to my wellbeing even when common-sense tells me otherwise. 
In compulsion and addiction, common-sense is all too easily traded in for self gratification.

I have fallen in the hole, I have sat in the hole, I have expected others to pull me out of the hole.

I need to understand that there is a hole, but it is just a hole and I can jump out of it, instead of sitting at the bottom feeling sorry for myself.
I have to accept that the hole won't go away just because I keep falling in there.
I have to accept that maybe the hole will never go away, and that the best thing I can do is simply avoid it.

And I have to accept all of that before I can take the next step of changing my route.

Learning from one's mistakes can be a tortuously slow process, sometimes the 'light bulb moment' doesn't come until you have stumbled about in the dark for a long time, bruised yourself on the furniture and fallen in the hole - a lot.

But that is OK.

Another quote I like, attributed to Einstein, although I don't know if this is true or not is:

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."


This tells me that radical change requires a radical change of thinking. 
And that requires unlearning old and bad habits, breaking free and challenging myself.

If I keep going down the path that I have been going down then I can only blame myself for ending back at the same, miserable place that I started.

I am making little changes already, and starting to skirt around that hole.

But I don't want to spend my life shuffling and edging on the sidewalk to avoid that pesky pothole.
I want to be able to take big, confident strides, knowing that there is no risk of tumbling down again.

I really think that it's time that I tried  to walk down another street.

Wish me luck.