Yesterday was okay. The test itself wasn't remotely difficult, all I had to do was just lie down and have flashing lights in my eyes for fifteen minutes and then breathe like Darth Vader during hayfever season for three minutes and then they let me have a kip. Staying awake for twenty-four hours prior to that, however, was pretty tough going. Between half past two and half past three I felt ridiculously hyper, between four and six I thought I was going crazy and felt like my eyeballs were going to fall out of their sockets. The worst part was the car journey to the hospital, I couldn't keep my eyes open!! I must've looked dreadful. I certainly felt like I'd died three weeks earlier and my body was just in the process of catching up with me...
When it finally came to the time the nurse let me sleep, and how I managed to stay awake through the rest of the test is still beyond me, as luck would have it - no sooner did I close my eyes than the workmen outside thought it'd be a great idea to start drilling the pavement. Not even a euphemism. Still, after approximately 28 hours, even if they'd started drilling in the exam room I wouldn't have noticed, I was out like a light for fifteen glorious minutes. Sigh. It was great.
Anyway, that's all over now and hopefully I won't have to do it again.
But today was my second weigh-in after a week of generally being good and refusing yummy stuff and being completely sober, I hopped back on the scales, waiting to see how I'd done. The llamas got their new leg-warmers on especially for the occasion, ready at any moment to put on the fiesta of all fiestas. I crossed my fingers, I thought thin thoughts, I said the magic words "Please don't let me put any weight on...!" and then looked at the number on the scales...
It was exactly the same. Exactly. To the ounce. Absolutely nothing had altered.
Positives: Hey, at least I didn't put any on!
Negatives: WTF?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!! What is the point in life?!!? Nothing is worth anything!! I AM POINTLESS!!! I should just die now and save the NHS time and expense on treating any future weight-related health issues!!!! *sob*
After having a mini-breakdown and writing seven different versions of a suicide note, I told my Mum when she came to visit. She said she'd been weighed the previous day and hopped on the scales to see what it said about her. If they're to be believed she put half a stone on in less than 24 hours... Then she said that the scales were actually third-hand and not very good.
So.... erm... Well, the llamas haven't done a fiesta today because we're all scratching our heads in confusion.
I'm changing the scales and getting weighed again tomorrow so I can start all over again. So the llamas will have an extra week to work on their routine. It will be spectacular. Or at least it should be.
Flippin' scales. They do have a habit of spoiling people's day. But they won't do next week!!!
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
Monday, 13 January 2014
Nessun Dorma
(blog post title courtesy of my lovely big sister, Joanna)
Still, at least now I can officially say, in the style of the well-known genius, Dr Sheldon Lee Cooper - "I'm not crazy - my mother had me tested!" Or at least there's definitely nothing physiologically wrong with my brain - and contrary to the scurrilous rumours, I do actually have a brain rolling around in the vast expanse of my cranium. Which is useful.
Despite the fact I suffer rather frequently with bouts of insomnia, I am finding today something of a struggle. All I've wanted to do since 8a.m. has been to have a nap. I think it's mostly a sort of psychological thing (that and the fact that I've barely slept for the past two weeks due to aforementioned insomnia). I know I'm not allowed to sleep so I'm desperate to sleep. Still. I have a few films I'm planning on watching tonight, and I've bought some nice coffee that I'm saving for later so I can feel like I'm being dead naughty having caffeine at midnight. Not really got anything for a midnight feast, but at least I can bask in the joy of knowing that later this year I will be skinnier.
At a slight tangent: Is it wrong that my main ambition is to order a gigantic pizza at midnight and sit eating it in my size 12/14 pyjamas while feeling absolutely no trace of guilt whatsoever? I've never even done that at the size I'm at now, I don't know why I want to do it when I'm skinny! Everyone else might be in this weight loss thing for the health benefits. I just want to be thin enough to eat crap and not beat myself up over it!!
Speaking of weight loss, I have discovered something absolutely amazing about the fact I'm having a second go at it. If you go back to my earlier blog entries, say from January probably through to about March 2012, I really struggled at the beginning to figure out how to function on a healthy eating regime, and how not to panic if I get hungry, or wonder what the hell I can eat when there's only stuff for a sandwich in the house, or all those horrible niggly "can't I just give in and eat my body weight in fry-ups?!?" type dilemmas. This time, I've settled back into the routine pretty much straight away. I've got my dieting head back on and if anything it's more of a relief than a constant series of mind-battles, knowing exactly what I need to do to get myself back on track. It feels far less of a diet and far more of a "right, this is just what I'm doing from now on" type lifestyle change. And to be honest, although the changes I've had to make have been pretty drastic, they've really not been anywhere near the kind of struggle they were when I went through this the first time. So I'm feeling really encouraged by that. I'm not sure if I've actually lost any weight yet, I won't get weighed until Wednesday morning, but I'm doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing, so hopefully the results will follow. I feel a lot more chilled about the whole thing, which can only be a good thing when it comes to actually keeping going on this whole weight-loss regime.
In other news, I have got my Llama-Keeping Licence back and the boys are due home tomorrow. I can't wait to see them, it's been ages and I'm sure we've all got lots of catching up to do. I have some tequila on hand for them - Ricardo says it helps him remember his stories better. They're going to work through the inevitable jet lag to prepare for Wednesday's fiesta just in case I lose weight this week - and they've even incorporated a few moves into their dance routine that I can join in with, which will be very exciting!
Remind me to pick up some red sparkle leg-warmers on my way home from the hospital tomorrow...
Friday, 31 August 2012
Le Gasp!! Il Gaspo!! Die Gazpen!!
Yeah that's right, so shocking I had to say it in French and then translate it into Spanish and German.
The shocks are manifold in this blog entry, so if you're of a nervous disposition I'd recommend changing your knickers now and bringing a spare pair back to the computer with you, just in case.
Firstly... I'm writing a blog entry!
I know, it's been ages. Well, I had my mojo working - but it just didn't work on slimming. I ate. And I drank. And I was merry. Well - I may say I was merry, but actually it was just one long stretch of beating myself up for being weak-willed.
Also, it turns out that I am still very addicted to chocolate. I thought after giving it up for eight months I'd be absolutely fine. No. Not at all. In fact all I want to do with my life is to eat chocolate for breakfast, dinner and tea, give up work and eat my body weight in cocoa-infused products. It's a dangerous substance.
Anyway. I think I'm back on the straight and narrow now. I said I'd give myself twelve months and it's only been eight so, y'know, I won't give up.
The second shocking revelation in today's blog entry is this... the llamas will be having TWO fiestas today!!!
I know, after weeks and weeks of training, they're finally ready for two fiestas. The first one is because, two weeks ago - I finally got my 4stone award. Take it away, chaps...!!
*dances round like a mad eejit* Phewf!!
Yeah, that's right, four stone - that's 56lbs to my American pals and 25.4kg to my... metric pals. It's a small child. Or at least a substantial percentage of the average adult. I only got my certificate on the night, they'd run out of shiny stickers, but fear not, I've got my shiny sticker now and it's there, shining proudly on the back of my Slimming World book.
The second fiesta will come later.
The third shock is this - after nearly two weeks of eating and drinking like an attendee at a Roman banquet, I hopped on the scales last night at Fat Club, and lo and behold, I'd lost a pound!!
I was convinced I'd put at least 10lbs on. At least 10. I'd really given it a good go, y'know. I had chocolate, and doughnuts, and... a lot of booze... and takeaways, and crisps, and basically everything I haven't had in the last eight months!!
In fact, I was so convinced that I'd ruined things for myself that I seriously considered just quitting and carrying on the diet from home. I was absolutely terrified at the prospect of getting back on the scales. I knew exactly how much I'd gone off the rails. Although, to be fair - I've really got Jo to thank that I've got this far anyway, she's an amazing cook and has really kept me on the straight and narrow far more than I realised.
Thankfully, I had a stern talking-to from various friends and family members, and so last night I trudged down the hill to the Church Hall to hop on the scales. I dunno if I've mentioned, but the song that always plays in my head when I get on the scales and get a good result is 'You're the Best' by Joe Esposito (the theme tune to The Karate Kid - the real one, not the silly remake). It was like it was playing in some sort of quadrophonic stereo type capacity when I saw the scales say I'd actually lost weight!!
And now - the FOURTH shock of this blog!!!
The song faded out as the Weighing Lady (I think her name's Natalie but I'm not sure. I really should find out, shouldn't I, I've been going for eight months!) started interrogating me about whether I'd been to group last week, or the week before. I felt a bit guilty but I told her I skipped Fat Club last week and didn't stay to group the week before. She started mumbling to herself and then asked the Check-In Lady (Dawn) if it was definitely me, and Dawn said that it was, and then after a few moments' conflab between them, the Weighing Lady and I had the following conversation:
WL: Because, erm, well - you've been named Woman of the Year!
ME: Oh yeah, right!! Hahahahaha!!!!!
[awkward pause]
ME: What, really?!
WL: Really.
ME: Me?!
WL: You.
ME: [points to self] ME?!?
WL: Yes, that's right.
ME: You mean.... me?!?!!???
WL: [rolls eyes] Yes, you!!
ME: Are you sure???? There must be some sort of mistake!!
WL: No, no, it's you.
[SPEV gazes off distractedly as the record player in her head starts up again - "You're the best... AROOOOUUND!! NOTHIN'S GONNA EVER KEEP YOU DOOOWWNNN!!!!"]
Unfortunately, Andrea the Consultant was on holiday, and so I won't know more about it until next week. I have no idea what it means, but the reports all seem to suggest that I will be getting a certificate, hopefully a shiny sticker and, most excitingly of all - A SASH!!!
That's right, all I'll need is a peaked hat and I could join International Rescue.
So, when I told the llamas, naturally they were all delighted and started leaping about (gambolling, even, I think you could say), doing back flips and Miguel even moonwalked down the street with happiness. Our Joanna cried. It was all very exciting. The latest member of my dancing llama troupe, Pedro, called up one of his 'contacts' and actually arranged a float for the second fiesta!!! I mean it's only a milk-float but you've got to take what you can get, right?
Without further ado - let's all shake our maracas, shimmy like we've no backbone and roll our Rs in a celebratory Latino fashion!!!!
I'm amazed and shocked and... well... Amazed. I can't believe people actually voted for me. I didn't think anyone noticed - I mean not even I've noticed! I hope I don't have to say anything next week.
So, if you've not died of boredom yet, that's basically what's happened over the last couple of weeks, slimming-wise. It didn't feel as though a lot went on - but clearly, it did!! Fabulous.
I've got eight weigh-ins left before the Michael Nesmith concert. I would love to have got my 5 stone award by then, and I'll certainly be working towards it. I've done it four times before so I don't think it's exactly impossible. But it'd still be nice to have done it by the time October 29th comes round.
Join me again - next time... whenever that might be.... maybe next week... when I might have something else to say. Possibly....!!!
The shocks are manifold in this blog entry, so if you're of a nervous disposition I'd recommend changing your knickers now and bringing a spare pair back to the computer with you, just in case.
Firstly... I'm writing a blog entry!
I know, it's been ages. Well, I had my mojo working - but it just didn't work on slimming. I ate. And I drank. And I was merry. Well - I may say I was merry, but actually it was just one long stretch of beating myself up for being weak-willed.
Also, it turns out that I am still very addicted to chocolate. I thought after giving it up for eight months I'd be absolutely fine. No. Not at all. In fact all I want to do with my life is to eat chocolate for breakfast, dinner and tea, give up work and eat my body weight in cocoa-infused products. It's a dangerous substance.
Anyway. I think I'm back on the straight and narrow now. I said I'd give myself twelve months and it's only been eight so, y'know, I won't give up.
The second shocking revelation in today's blog entry is this... the llamas will be having TWO fiestas today!!!
I know, after weeks and weeks of training, they're finally ready for two fiestas. The first one is because, two weeks ago - I finally got my 4stone award. Take it away, chaps...!!
AAARRRRIIIIIIBBBAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ole!!!
*dances round like a mad eejit* Phewf!!
Yeah, that's right, four stone - that's 56lbs to my American pals and 25.4kg to my... metric pals. It's a small child. Or at least a substantial percentage of the average adult. I only got my certificate on the night, they'd run out of shiny stickers, but fear not, I've got my shiny sticker now and it's there, shining proudly on the back of my Slimming World book.
The second fiesta will come later.
The third shock is this - after nearly two weeks of eating and drinking like an attendee at a Roman banquet, I hopped on the scales last night at Fat Club, and lo and behold, I'd lost a pound!!
I was convinced I'd put at least 10lbs on. At least 10. I'd really given it a good go, y'know. I had chocolate, and doughnuts, and... a lot of booze... and takeaways, and crisps, and basically everything I haven't had in the last eight months!!
In fact, I was so convinced that I'd ruined things for myself that I seriously considered just quitting and carrying on the diet from home. I was absolutely terrified at the prospect of getting back on the scales. I knew exactly how much I'd gone off the rails. Although, to be fair - I've really got Jo to thank that I've got this far anyway, she's an amazing cook and has really kept me on the straight and narrow far more than I realised.
Thankfully, I had a stern talking-to from various friends and family members, and so last night I trudged down the hill to the Church Hall to hop on the scales. I dunno if I've mentioned, but the song that always plays in my head when I get on the scales and get a good result is 'You're the Best' by Joe Esposito (the theme tune to The Karate Kid - the real one, not the silly remake). It was like it was playing in some sort of quadrophonic stereo type capacity when I saw the scales say I'd actually lost weight!!
And now - the FOURTH shock of this blog!!!
The song faded out as the Weighing Lady (I think her name's Natalie but I'm not sure. I really should find out, shouldn't I, I've been going for eight months!) started interrogating me about whether I'd been to group last week, or the week before. I felt a bit guilty but I told her I skipped Fat Club last week and didn't stay to group the week before. She started mumbling to herself and then asked the Check-In Lady (Dawn) if it was definitely me, and Dawn said that it was, and then after a few moments' conflab between them, the Weighing Lady and I had the following conversation:
WL: Because, erm, well - you've been named Woman of the Year!
ME: Oh yeah, right!! Hahahahaha!!!!!
[awkward pause]
ME: What, really?!
WL: Really.
ME: Me?!
WL: You.
ME: [points to self] ME?!?
WL: Yes, that's right.
ME: You mean.... me?!?!!???
WL: [rolls eyes] Yes, you!!
ME: Are you sure???? There must be some sort of mistake!!
WL: No, no, it's you.
[SPEV gazes off distractedly as the record player in her head starts up again - "You're the best... AROOOOUUND!! NOTHIN'S GONNA EVER KEEP YOU DOOOWWNNN!!!!"]
Unfortunately, Andrea the Consultant was on holiday, and so I won't know more about it until next week. I have no idea what it means, but the reports all seem to suggest that I will be getting a certificate, hopefully a shiny sticker and, most excitingly of all - A SASH!!!
That's right, all I'll need is a peaked hat and I could join International Rescue.
So, when I told the llamas, naturally they were all delighted and started leaping about (gambolling, even, I think you could say), doing back flips and Miguel even moonwalked down the street with happiness. Our Joanna cried. It was all very exciting. The latest member of my dancing llama troupe, Pedro, called up one of his 'contacts' and actually arranged a float for the second fiesta!!! I mean it's only a milk-float but you've got to take what you can get, right?
Without further ado - let's all shake our maracas, shimmy like we've no backbone and roll our Rs in a celebratory Latino fashion!!!!
Waahhooooo!!!!! *shimmy* *shake* *wiggle* *etc*
I'm amazed and shocked and... well... Amazed. I can't believe people actually voted for me. I didn't think anyone noticed - I mean not even I've noticed! I hope I don't have to say anything next week.
So, if you've not died of boredom yet, that's basically what's happened over the last couple of weeks, slimming-wise. It didn't feel as though a lot went on - but clearly, it did!! Fabulous.
I've got eight weigh-ins left before the Michael Nesmith concert. I would love to have got my 5 stone award by then, and I'll certainly be working towards it. I've done it four times before so I don't think it's exactly impossible. But it'd still be nice to have done it by the time October 29th comes round.
Join me again - next time... whenever that might be.... maybe next week... when I might have something else to say. Possibly....!!!
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Dressin' Fine, Makin' Time
I would like to apologise for my complete failure on the blogging front recently. Work's been mental and I haven't had time to write. Sorry.
Thursday went well. I lost 2 1/2 lbs. I now have 2 1/2 lbs to lose before I get my 4 stone award. I'd LOVE it if it was this week. I'm giving it my best shot this week. I've been determined, I'm still on the wagon (Day 16. Blood is now coursing through my alcohol stream. I'm starting to see things as they really are. 'Floor!' 'Curtains!' 'Gobshite!' Erm. Sorry. Just went all Father Ted there for a minute!), I've kept to well under 10 Syns a day, except for Saturday when I went half a Syn over, but I'm not worried about that really. I've walked a lot. I haven't been quite as stressed out this week as I have been during the last two weeks about losing weight. I don't feel any different or any thinner. I know I couldn't possibly have put weight on with the things I've been eating, but hey - who knows how the human body works? Certainly not me. It'th a mythtery, as Toyah Wilcox might say. For the benefit of my readers under the age of 35 and who therefore don't know who Toyah Wilcox is - ask your mum. She'll always be Monkey to me. Toyah, that is. Not your mum. I feel as though I'm unwittingly starting to stray into unintentional 'your mum' jokes territory. I'm going to end this aside right now before I get into trouble!
I'm really sorry you missed the fiesta. It was a special fiesta as well, in honour of the synchronised swimming. Ricardo has become obsessed with it. He designed a load of inflatable leg warmers for the llamas and they did a fabulous routine. If I get my 4 stone shiny sticker this week I'll get them to re-create the whole thing for you.
I should point out at this juncture that I will probably be off-grid for the next ten days or so. I'll update as much as I can, obviously, but on Friday, Saturday and Sunday I shall be at the annual District Convention of Jehovah's Witnesses in Liverpool. In the North West for the last 14 years or so it's been held at the Manchester Arena and it's a big, scary place, so my family and I have escaped to somewhere far more exotic for the Convention over the last few years. Stoke-on-Trent. Anyway, this year it's in Liverpool, and as my entire family are from the glorious city, we're very excited about the prospect.
I have new dresses. I had a disastrous afternoon's shopping on Saturday. Not that the company was disastrous, you understand - it was fabulous. After all, I was with my pal, Heather. I know. Two Heathers, no messing. She's awesome and I love her to distraction. So, I had a grand old time as always with her, it was just the dresses were the problem. They were either too short or too low (and although I'm skinny now, I still have massive knockers to deal with) - and often both at the same time. Although at least they all fitted me. It's nice to know that I can walk into a shop, pick up a dress in a particular size and know that it will fit me. I don't think I've ever done that before. It's all progress. I found a new dress yesterday, which is very pretty and fits me, so I'm nearly replete with dresses in my wardrobe, which is all very exciting. Eventually, I will post my 'before' and 'half way through' photos. I just need to retrieve the 'before' photo that my Auntie Heather took of me in January!
After the Convention, I'm moving out of home for a week or so. Long story. I'm sleeping at my pal's house for a few nights and then staying with another pal for a few nights. I should still be able to update the blog while I'm away because I'll still be working, but if not, you'll know why. My life should hopefully return to normal - well, as normal as my life ever gets, anyway - on or around 23 August, which coincides with the Global Public Holiday I've been campaigning for for the last who knows how long - International Keith Moon Day. Everything is wonderful on that day, it's by far my favourite day on the calendar. So it's only fitting, really, that everything sorts itself out by then.
I shall try to update on Wednesday or Thursday but I won't be able to update on my results from Fat Club until at least Monday next week. Sorry about that, chaps. Wish me luck though. I have a feeling that this week I'm seriously going to need it!!
Thursday went well. I lost 2 1/2 lbs. I now have 2 1/2 lbs to lose before I get my 4 stone award. I'd LOVE it if it was this week. I'm giving it my best shot this week. I've been determined, I'm still on the wagon (Day 16. Blood is now coursing through my alcohol stream. I'm starting to see things as they really are. 'Floor!' 'Curtains!' 'Gobshite!' Erm. Sorry. Just went all Father Ted there for a minute!), I've kept to well under 10 Syns a day, except for Saturday when I went half a Syn over, but I'm not worried about that really. I've walked a lot. I haven't been quite as stressed out this week as I have been during the last two weeks about losing weight. I don't feel any different or any thinner. I know I couldn't possibly have put weight on with the things I've been eating, but hey - who knows how the human body works? Certainly not me. It'th a mythtery, as Toyah Wilcox might say. For the benefit of my readers under the age of 35 and who therefore don't know who Toyah Wilcox is - ask your mum. She'll always be Monkey to me. Toyah, that is. Not your mum. I feel as though I'm unwittingly starting to stray into unintentional 'your mum' jokes territory. I'm going to end this aside right now before I get into trouble!
I'm really sorry you missed the fiesta. It was a special fiesta as well, in honour of the synchronised swimming. Ricardo has become obsessed with it. He designed a load of inflatable leg warmers for the llamas and they did a fabulous routine. If I get my 4 stone shiny sticker this week I'll get them to re-create the whole thing for you.
I should point out at this juncture that I will probably be off-grid for the next ten days or so. I'll update as much as I can, obviously, but on Friday, Saturday and Sunday I shall be at the annual District Convention of Jehovah's Witnesses in Liverpool. In the North West for the last 14 years or so it's been held at the Manchester Arena and it's a big, scary place, so my family and I have escaped to somewhere far more exotic for the Convention over the last few years. Stoke-on-Trent. Anyway, this year it's in Liverpool, and as my entire family are from the glorious city, we're very excited about the prospect.
I have new dresses. I had a disastrous afternoon's shopping on Saturday. Not that the company was disastrous, you understand - it was fabulous. After all, I was with my pal, Heather. I know. Two Heathers, no messing. She's awesome and I love her to distraction. So, I had a grand old time as always with her, it was just the dresses were the problem. They were either too short or too low (and although I'm skinny now, I still have massive knockers to deal with) - and often both at the same time. Although at least they all fitted me. It's nice to know that I can walk into a shop, pick up a dress in a particular size and know that it will fit me. I don't think I've ever done that before. It's all progress. I found a new dress yesterday, which is very pretty and fits me, so I'm nearly replete with dresses in my wardrobe, which is all very exciting. Eventually, I will post my 'before' and 'half way through' photos. I just need to retrieve the 'before' photo that my Auntie Heather took of me in January!
After the Convention, I'm moving out of home for a week or so. Long story. I'm sleeping at my pal's house for a few nights and then staying with another pal for a few nights. I should still be able to update the blog while I'm away because I'll still be working, but if not, you'll know why. My life should hopefully return to normal - well, as normal as my life ever gets, anyway - on or around 23 August, which coincides with the Global Public Holiday I've been campaigning for for the last who knows how long - International Keith Moon Day. Everything is wonderful on that day, it's by far my favourite day on the calendar. So it's only fitting, really, that everything sorts itself out by then.
I shall try to update on Wednesday or Thursday but I won't be able to update on my results from Fat Club until at least Monday next week. Sorry about that, chaps. Wish me luck though. I have a feeling that this week I'm seriously going to need it!!
Monday, 30 July 2012
Swimmin' with the Wimmin'
So, the Olympics has started in London and everyone's mind is turning to all things sporty.
Mine isn't. Even though I've watched a lot of gymnastics (and fencing, swimming and... actually that's it, so far). If I could back-flip, I have a feeling that I would never walk again. A normal trip to the corner shop for a pint of milk would be a very different experience. Or if I'd gone on a dead long walk and my legs got tired, I'd just walk on my hands instead. I'd be triple somersaulting all over the flippin' (ha! see what I did there?!) place. It must be nice to be a natural athlete.
The E Word keeps rearing its ugly head and I keep on avoiding it like the plague. Due to my lack of car I do walk nearly everywhere - at least two miles a day, but I'm really starting to get the feeling that I have to do more. I have arms that need unwobbling. I have curves that need to look more curvy and less lumpy. I have core muscles that need... er... coring.
I'm bored already. Exercise is for people without the capability to watch sport on television, surely?
I blame the plethora of exercise that's going on in the country right now. Us sedentary chaps and chapesses are being made to feel guilty. Look. Some of us - like Bruce Springsteen - were born to run. Some of us were born to get public transport instead - like me.
I keep being advised to take up swimming, but I feel this is the last thing I ought to do. For a start it will unquestionably involve, at some stage, the concept of me in a swimming costume. There is probably no sight more repugnant to the human race. Even the thought of it makes my blood run cold. Nobody needs to see that! Eeesh!!! The other problem with swimming is that I can't swim. Which really is a problem that far exceeds any self-hate issues I happen to have running in conjunction with my lack of ability. Besides, I'd end up with shoulders the size of a small child. I don't need another hang-up about my physical appearance, thank you - I already have enough for two lifetimes!!
There'll be an activity out there that has my name on it. Something that doesn't involve going outside, is a well known source of aerobic exercise and is utterly enjoyable and with purpose. I know what you're all thinking. And you're right. I should really start dancing round the living room! (What?! What were you thinking?!)
I've been very good this weekend. I've eaten a lot but it's all been the right sort of stuff. I've also done a ton of decorating and loads more walking than usual. That ought to do something for certain muscle groups. Dunno what, like, but it ought to - I'm knackered. It should at least improve my karate. I've seen the Karate Kid (I'm referring to the real one and not the abysmal remake that Jackie Chan basically spent the whole film looking apologetic for. And this is from the man who made Shanghai Knights!), I know how it works. I bet I'm an expert now - I could take on ALL the Cobra Kai team and batter 'em!! Just try coming at me! Try it!!
Actually - don't. I'll most likely scream hysterically, fall to the floor and assume the foetal position.
I don't know what to think about the weight-loss thing at the moment, though. It seems to me, whenever I think "Oooh, I dunno, I feel a bit podgier this week, I'm sure I've put on! And how about that extra cup of coffee with milk I had on Tuesday morning?!" it turns out that I lose something ridiculous like 4lbs or so. But when I've been mega-good and Synned like a nun at Lourdes, and thought to myself, "I've been dead good, I must've lost something this week! I even feel thinner!" I end up either only losing half a pound or putting a bit of weight on or staying the same. All I'm doing is following the plan exactly as I did on my first week back in January. At the moment I'm simply aiming to still be the same weight as I was before my epic week of hedonism. If I get a better result than that then I shall be chuffed, but I really don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, I've been very good last week and am determined to be just as good this week, so, who knows. If I can get as close as I can to my 4 stone mark by next Thursday I shall be more chuffed than the chuff of a chuff's chuff. And we all know how chuffed they are!
Join me later on in the week for my pre-weigh in nervous breakdown. It's been two weeks since I last went to Fat Club and I'm sure by Wednesdayish I shall be absolutely terrified about getting back on those there scales... *wibble*
Mine isn't. Even though I've watched a lot of gymnastics (and fencing, swimming and... actually that's it, so far). If I could back-flip, I have a feeling that I would never walk again. A normal trip to the corner shop for a pint of milk would be a very different experience. Or if I'd gone on a dead long walk and my legs got tired, I'd just walk on my hands instead. I'd be triple somersaulting all over the flippin' (ha! see what I did there?!) place. It must be nice to be a natural athlete.
The E Word keeps rearing its ugly head and I keep on avoiding it like the plague. Due to my lack of car I do walk nearly everywhere - at least two miles a day, but I'm really starting to get the feeling that I have to do more. I have arms that need unwobbling. I have curves that need to look more curvy and less lumpy. I have core muscles that need... er... coring.
I'm bored already. Exercise is for people without the capability to watch sport on television, surely?
I blame the plethora of exercise that's going on in the country right now. Us sedentary chaps and chapesses are being made to feel guilty. Look. Some of us - like Bruce Springsteen - were born to run. Some of us were born to get public transport instead - like me.
I keep being advised to take up swimming, but I feel this is the last thing I ought to do. For a start it will unquestionably involve, at some stage, the concept of me in a swimming costume. There is probably no sight more repugnant to the human race. Even the thought of it makes my blood run cold. Nobody needs to see that! Eeesh!!! The other problem with swimming is that I can't swim. Which really is a problem that far exceeds any self-hate issues I happen to have running in conjunction with my lack of ability. Besides, I'd end up with shoulders the size of a small child. I don't need another hang-up about my physical appearance, thank you - I already have enough for two lifetimes!!
There'll be an activity out there that has my name on it. Something that doesn't involve going outside, is a well known source of aerobic exercise and is utterly enjoyable and with purpose. I know what you're all thinking. And you're right. I should really start dancing round the living room! (What?! What were you thinking?!)
I've been very good this weekend. I've eaten a lot but it's all been the right sort of stuff. I've also done a ton of decorating and loads more walking than usual. That ought to do something for certain muscle groups. Dunno what, like, but it ought to - I'm knackered. It should at least improve my karate. I've seen the Karate Kid (I'm referring to the real one and not the abysmal remake that Jackie Chan basically spent the whole film looking apologetic for. And this is from the man who made Shanghai Knights!), I know how it works. I bet I'm an expert now - I could take on ALL the Cobra Kai team and batter 'em!! Just try coming at me! Try it!!
Actually - don't. I'll most likely scream hysterically, fall to the floor and assume the foetal position.
I don't know what to think about the weight-loss thing at the moment, though. It seems to me, whenever I think "Oooh, I dunno, I feel a bit podgier this week, I'm sure I've put on! And how about that extra cup of coffee with milk I had on Tuesday morning?!" it turns out that I lose something ridiculous like 4lbs or so. But when I've been mega-good and Synned like a nun at Lourdes, and thought to myself, "I've been dead good, I must've lost something this week! I even feel thinner!" I end up either only losing half a pound or putting a bit of weight on or staying the same. All I'm doing is following the plan exactly as I did on my first week back in January. At the moment I'm simply aiming to still be the same weight as I was before my epic week of hedonism. If I get a better result than that then I shall be chuffed, but I really don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, I've been very good last week and am determined to be just as good this week, so, who knows. If I can get as close as I can to my 4 stone mark by next Thursday I shall be more chuffed than the chuff of a chuff's chuff. And we all know how chuffed they are!
Join me later on in the week for my pre-weigh in nervous breakdown. It's been two weeks since I last went to Fat Club and I'm sure by Wednesdayish I shall be absolutely terrified about getting back on those there scales... *wibble*
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Full to Bursting
This is the happy predicament in which I find myself.
My cheating days are over. I think that's what Kirsten Stewart said to Robert Pattinson (satire!).
I have to say, quite seriously now, that I love Slimming World. For a person of the large persuasion who genuinely loves their food in all its glorious different guises, I'm pretty sure it's the only way. Basically, the idea of it - for those who are lucky enough not to need to lose weight or those who have never heard of the plan before - is to fill up on foods with a lower density of calories (fruit, veg, rice, pasta, potatoes, lean meat etc) so that you basically don't really have a lot of room for foods with a high density of calories (chocolate, cakes, cheese, booze etc), but the diet is still flexible enough to allow some of those foods every day so (each food is appointed a 'Syn' value, and you're allowed between 10-15 'Syns' a day. Not 100% sure of the reason for the purposeful misspelling, but I'm a Monkees fan, so I'll let it slide), theoretically, you don't get put off and you can feasibly just eat that way forever. Which sounds perfectly logical.
Doesn't it sound just TOO easy?? Yes. Tell you what though - if you follow it, it works. Just over 3 1/2 stone later, I'm proof of that.
The reason I mention it is because I'm in that glorious mood of post-lunch. This lunchtime - and bearing in mind I am absolutely 100% hardcore on this diet right now - I managed to cheerfully plough my way through a jacket potato with baked beans, followed by a Vanilla/Chocolate sprinkles Mullerlight and half a canteloupe melon. This was on the back of a breakfast consisting of two boiled eggs, a handful of cherries, a banana and an orange. Stomach - full to capacity. Syns consumed - 0. Associated guilt regarding said full stomach - 0. And don't worry, there's an apple in my bag for later on this afternoon so I will have actually had my five a day!!
Beat that, Weight Watchers.
I have no idea how it works. But it does feel as though the more you eat, the more weight you lose. I'm totally up for that.
I won't be going to weigh-in tonight because there's stuff to do at Wainwright Towers that requires my constant presence. However, I've had a bit of a conflab with Andrea the Consultant and I'll be back next week, and - hopefully - get my 4 stone shiny sticker and matching certificate. I shall be working hard to get there. I just hope it pays off.
The llamas (I know how much you all love them) are fine. They've been taking it easy for the last few weeks, but they're back in training for next Friday's fiesta. I've promised them a fiesta and if I don't deliver on it I think Enrique will keel over with worry. That's right. I'm not losing weight for my health, my appearance or my obsession with filling my wardrobe with dresses - I'm doing it for the llamas. After the cannonball stunt of a few weeks ago, Miguel has finally recovered, the cast came off his leg last week and he's delighted - do you know how itchy llama legs get in plaster casts? Neither do I, but the poor little fella was going mad with the itching. Watch Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart, you'll get some idea of how Miguel felt. I mean, with regard to having an itchy leg up to the hip in plaster, not with regard to inadvertently witnessing a murder when all he wanted to do was have a sneaky perve over the ballerina in the flat opposite.
Join me on Monday, if you like. I don't know what news I'll have to report by then, but if I have any I promise you'll be the first to read about it!!!
My cheating days are over. I think that's what Kirsten Stewart said to Robert Pattinson (satire!).
I have to say, quite seriously now, that I love Slimming World. For a person of the large persuasion who genuinely loves their food in all its glorious different guises, I'm pretty sure it's the only way. Basically, the idea of it - for those who are lucky enough not to need to lose weight or those who have never heard of the plan before - is to fill up on foods with a lower density of calories (fruit, veg, rice, pasta, potatoes, lean meat etc) so that you basically don't really have a lot of room for foods with a high density of calories (chocolate, cakes, cheese, booze etc), but the diet is still flexible enough to allow some of those foods every day so (each food is appointed a 'Syn' value, and you're allowed between 10-15 'Syns' a day. Not 100% sure of the reason for the purposeful misspelling, but I'm a Monkees fan, so I'll let it slide), theoretically, you don't get put off and you can feasibly just eat that way forever. Which sounds perfectly logical.
Doesn't it sound just TOO easy?? Yes. Tell you what though - if you follow it, it works. Just over 3 1/2 stone later, I'm proof of that.
The reason I mention it is because I'm in that glorious mood of post-lunch. This lunchtime - and bearing in mind I am absolutely 100% hardcore on this diet right now - I managed to cheerfully plough my way through a jacket potato with baked beans, followed by a Vanilla/Chocolate sprinkles Mullerlight and half a canteloupe melon. This was on the back of a breakfast consisting of two boiled eggs, a handful of cherries, a banana and an orange. Stomach - full to capacity. Syns consumed - 0. Associated guilt regarding said full stomach - 0. And don't worry, there's an apple in my bag for later on this afternoon so I will have actually had my five a day!!
Beat that, Weight Watchers.
I have no idea how it works. But it does feel as though the more you eat, the more weight you lose. I'm totally up for that.
I won't be going to weigh-in tonight because there's stuff to do at Wainwright Towers that requires my constant presence. However, I've had a bit of a conflab with Andrea the Consultant and I'll be back next week, and - hopefully - get my 4 stone shiny sticker and matching certificate. I shall be working hard to get there. I just hope it pays off.
The llamas (I know how much you all love them) are fine. They've been taking it easy for the last few weeks, but they're back in training for next Friday's fiesta. I've promised them a fiesta and if I don't deliver on it I think Enrique will keel over with worry. That's right. I'm not losing weight for my health, my appearance or my obsession with filling my wardrobe with dresses - I'm doing it for the llamas. After the cannonball stunt of a few weeks ago, Miguel has finally recovered, the cast came off his leg last week and he's delighted - do you know how itchy llama legs get in plaster casts? Neither do I, but the poor little fella was going mad with the itching. Watch Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart, you'll get some idea of how Miguel felt. I mean, with regard to having an itchy leg up to the hip in plaster, not with regard to inadvertently witnessing a murder when all he wanted to do was have a sneaky perve over the ballerina in the flat opposite.
Join me on Monday, if you like. I don't know what news I'll have to report by then, but if I have any I promise you'll be the first to read about it!!!
Monday, 23 July 2012
Starting All Over Again
I know it's been ages, but I've really had very little indeed to report on the weight loss front.
Although...
On July 5th (exactly 6 months after I first stepped on the scales) I managed to hit my half-way target of 3 1/2 stones. In fact I got just over my half way point, and all I needed was to lose another 5lbs in 5 weeks in order to hit my 4 stone mark. Then the boredom set in. And when it set, it stuck good and proper.
I don't know why, when I'd worked so hard over the last six months, I suddenly decided it would be a fabulous idea to go completely off the rails because I couldn't be bothered keeping on the straight and narrow. Yes, because getting halfway there totally means you're allowed to give yourself a week or two off, just because you 'can't be bothered'!!
No, actually, I shouldn't be allowed to give myself two weeks off 'just because' yet. I've not done anything yet. Halfway does not count. I've been here before. I've been halfway, and I've always fallen into this trap and the weight has piled straight back on and I'm back to where I was before I know it. I haven't done anything to congratulate myself for yet. I'm not taking away from the fact that it's been a long hard slog to get this far. And I know that losing over 3 1/2 stones in six months is an achievement, and I'm not really detracting from that. But it isn't the target. It isn't where I want to be.
You don't see people training for marathons giving themselves a few weeks off from training after they finally manage to run for thirteen miles solid, do you? Exactly. I haven't made it yet, I've got no reason to start messing around and giving myself lame excuses to fall off the wagon. So what if I've had a tough day at work? That doesn't instantly mean that I have to have a few large glasses of something interesting. It's not going to make my tough day any less tough. It's just a bunch of extra Syns that I don't actually need and that will only serve to make me feel guilty for a lapse in motivation.
Perhaps, and the thought did occur to me earlier last week, I've really never known myself this size. It feels weird. I look in the mirror now and I only see two chins, rather than 50. I saw my collar bone when I looked in the mirror the other week. It was just, y'know, there. I genuinely panicked for a few moments and thought there was a tumour growing below my neck, until I realised what it was!! My shoulders have gone skinny. My cheekbones are huge. I don't look like me any more.
Being smaller than I already am, although I want it desperately, will seem so weird. Being 'big' is very much an intrinsic part of how I see myself and what I think I am. If I haven't got that instant, bizarrely comforting, self-deprecating joke of me being fat to hide behind, then I'm not really sure what I have got. Perhaps my firm thwack on the 'self-destruct' button last week was because I'm actually really scared of the physical aspects of being smaller. I already hate the attention. And no, no I haven't had any attention from blokes, they still have no idea I exist - but getting told, "Wow, you look great!" and "Oh my god, look at you!!" or "I can't believe how amazing/stunning/beautiful/fabulous you look!" (and seriously - words like 'stunning' and 'beautiful' should never be associated with me) and all that sort of thing... don't get me wrong, it's lovely, I really appreciate how supportive everyone is - and it's a lot nicer than "Holy hell, look at that fat bitch!" which I haven't actually heard for a while now. But to be truthful, I don't feel like I deserve it and it really makes me uncomfortable. I don't really want to be looked at. I thought that's what being smaller would help me achieve - a nice little degree of invisibility.
Still. That's still no reason to go completely off track. I've got things to do. I've got clothes to fit into. I've got a Michael Nesmith gig to go to at the end of October!! So I'm going to stop feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to stop being scared and I'm going to get the hell on with it.
In the wise words of Tony DiNozzo from NCIS - "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got." In the equally wise words of Stanley Holloway - "You can't jump with one foot on the floor." Basically, this week, I need to get my finger out and make damn sure I don't completely put the last six months to waste.
Four stone mark - I am going to own you...!!
Although...
On July 5th (exactly 6 months after I first stepped on the scales) I managed to hit my half-way target of 3 1/2 stones. In fact I got just over my half way point, and all I needed was to lose another 5lbs in 5 weeks in order to hit my 4 stone mark. Then the boredom set in. And when it set, it stuck good and proper.
I don't know why, when I'd worked so hard over the last six months, I suddenly decided it would be a fabulous idea to go completely off the rails because I couldn't be bothered keeping on the straight and narrow. Yes, because getting halfway there totally means you're allowed to give yourself a week or two off, just because you 'can't be bothered'!!
No, actually, I shouldn't be allowed to give myself two weeks off 'just because' yet. I've not done anything yet. Halfway does not count. I've been here before. I've been halfway, and I've always fallen into this trap and the weight has piled straight back on and I'm back to where I was before I know it. I haven't done anything to congratulate myself for yet. I'm not taking away from the fact that it's been a long hard slog to get this far. And I know that losing over 3 1/2 stones in six months is an achievement, and I'm not really detracting from that. But it isn't the target. It isn't where I want to be.
You don't see people training for marathons giving themselves a few weeks off from training after they finally manage to run for thirteen miles solid, do you? Exactly. I haven't made it yet, I've got no reason to start messing around and giving myself lame excuses to fall off the wagon. So what if I've had a tough day at work? That doesn't instantly mean that I have to have a few large glasses of something interesting. It's not going to make my tough day any less tough. It's just a bunch of extra Syns that I don't actually need and that will only serve to make me feel guilty for a lapse in motivation.
Perhaps, and the thought did occur to me earlier last week, I've really never known myself this size. It feels weird. I look in the mirror now and I only see two chins, rather than 50. I saw my collar bone when I looked in the mirror the other week. It was just, y'know, there. I genuinely panicked for a few moments and thought there was a tumour growing below my neck, until I realised what it was!! My shoulders have gone skinny. My cheekbones are huge. I don't look like me any more.
Being smaller than I already am, although I want it desperately, will seem so weird. Being 'big' is very much an intrinsic part of how I see myself and what I think I am. If I haven't got that instant, bizarrely comforting, self-deprecating joke of me being fat to hide behind, then I'm not really sure what I have got. Perhaps my firm thwack on the 'self-destruct' button last week was because I'm actually really scared of the physical aspects of being smaller. I already hate the attention. And no, no I haven't had any attention from blokes, they still have no idea I exist - but getting told, "Wow, you look great!" and "Oh my god, look at you!!" or "I can't believe how amazing/stunning/beautiful/fabulous you look!" (and seriously - words like 'stunning' and 'beautiful' should never be associated with me) and all that sort of thing... don't get me wrong, it's lovely, I really appreciate how supportive everyone is - and it's a lot nicer than "Holy hell, look at that fat bitch!" which I haven't actually heard for a while now. But to be truthful, I don't feel like I deserve it and it really makes me uncomfortable. I don't really want to be looked at. I thought that's what being smaller would help me achieve - a nice little degree of invisibility.
Still. That's still no reason to go completely off track. I've got things to do. I've got clothes to fit into. I've got a Michael Nesmith gig to go to at the end of October!! So I'm going to stop feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to stop being scared and I'm going to get the hell on with it.
In the wise words of Tony DiNozzo from NCIS - "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got." In the equally wise words of Stanley Holloway - "You can't jump with one foot on the floor." Basically, this week, I need to get my finger out and make damn sure I don't completely put the last six months to waste.
Four stone mark - I am going to own you...!!
Friday, 22 June 2012
And the Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down...
...And the river sucked up Pooh!!
Ah, Disney. You never cease to be hilarious.
It is truly El Pissi Downio out there today. I turned up at work looking like a drowned rat because I currently have no umbrella (a stupid thing for any native to this country, I know), as mine was attacked by the only element that no umbrella can stand - the heavy wind/driving rain combo. I wouldn't have minded but it was a huge umbrella, not one of those ones that snaps in half during a gentle breeze.
You don't want to know my umbrella woes. I'm getting terribly boring in my old age. Only yesterday I got a new computer in work and lamented about how difficult Office 2007 is to use compared to Office 2003 (any idiot who thinks getting rid of AutoText is a good idea has NEVER been a secretary!) while lauding the fabness of the i3 processor and being generally impressed with Windows 7.
I fell asleep twice while typing that sentence. That's how boring I've become.
You think I'm avoiding talking about Fat Club, don't you? Well, no, actually, not really.
As you all know, I was desperate to lose 1 1/2 lbs to get to my halfway 3 1/2 stone mark. I'd been very good indeed and hadn't drunk too much or eaten too much, although as I'd been rather poorly for the past few days I had been what can only be described as sedentary for the past week, so I wasn't too confident. As it turned out I managed to lose 1lb. Which is still good going and I know I can't lose 4lbs every week etc etc etc etc, but it was so annoying just to be half a pound out! That's neither here nor there!! 8oz, it's less than a packet of butter! Gahhh!!!
So, to stop myself being too annoyed at the 'so near yet so far'-ness of the situation, I've already decided in my head that I've hit it. Let's face it, if I'd got on the scales an hour earlier or later I probably would've weighed half a pound less. I've probably already lost half a pound this morning. My next target is to concentrate on hitting the 4 stone mark.
I think this is becoming the most sensible option on the weight-loss front (as I'm practically a veteran now). Rather than thinking "Gosh, I need to lose [insert number here] [ha!! I said 'insert'!!] [HAHA! And again!] stone, that's going to take forEVER!", just think "I can lose half a stone. Half a stone is do-able. Any eejit can lose half a stone!" and then when that's done, you can aim to lose another half stone, and then another and another. You're still aiming for that big goal at the end, but rather than feeling you have an impossible mountain to climb, you just feel you have a few gentle inclines to stroll. And who knows - I mean at the moment I'm pretty sure my target is 7 stone, but when I get there, what if I haven't lost quite enough and I have to move the goalposts back by a stone, or maybe even two? If I try telling myself I have to lose nine stone, I'll freak out, but all I ever have to lose is half a stone. I just have to do it quite a few times, that's all.
Come on, then, llamas - time to shimmy away those summertime blues, never mind the rain! Let the fiesta commence!!
*dances round room like a mad eejit*
My mum lost 1 1/2 lbs in her first week, she wasn't overly strict with keeping to the Syns limit either, so she's really pleased to have seen a result. She's determined to follow the diet to the letter and lose 4lbs next week - and I bet she'll do it too!!
This weekend my pal Zara and her son Dominic are coming to visit. I've not seen them in forever and it'll be lovely to catch up with them both. Whatever you're up to over the weekend, I hope you have a good'un - and I'll see you back here on Monday with a round-up of all the weekend's action!!
Ah, Disney. You never cease to be hilarious.
It is truly El Pissi Downio out there today. I turned up at work looking like a drowned rat because I currently have no umbrella (a stupid thing for any native to this country, I know), as mine was attacked by the only element that no umbrella can stand - the heavy wind/driving rain combo. I wouldn't have minded but it was a huge umbrella, not one of those ones that snaps in half during a gentle breeze.
You don't want to know my umbrella woes. I'm getting terribly boring in my old age. Only yesterday I got a new computer in work and lamented about how difficult Office 2007 is to use compared to Office 2003 (any idiot who thinks getting rid of AutoText is a good idea has NEVER been a secretary!) while lauding the fabness of the i3 processor and being generally impressed with Windows 7.
I fell asleep twice while typing that sentence. That's how boring I've become.
You think I'm avoiding talking about Fat Club, don't you? Well, no, actually, not really.
As you all know, I was desperate to lose 1 1/2 lbs to get to my halfway 3 1/2 stone mark. I'd been very good indeed and hadn't drunk too much or eaten too much, although as I'd been rather poorly for the past few days I had been what can only be described as sedentary for the past week, so I wasn't too confident. As it turned out I managed to lose 1lb. Which is still good going and I know I can't lose 4lbs every week etc etc etc etc, but it was so annoying just to be half a pound out! That's neither here nor there!! 8oz, it's less than a packet of butter! Gahhh!!!
So, to stop myself being too annoyed at the 'so near yet so far'-ness of the situation, I've already decided in my head that I've hit it. Let's face it, if I'd got on the scales an hour earlier or later I probably would've weighed half a pound less. I've probably already lost half a pound this morning. My next target is to concentrate on hitting the 4 stone mark.
I think this is becoming the most sensible option on the weight-loss front (as I'm practically a veteran now). Rather than thinking "Gosh, I need to lose [insert number here] [ha!! I said 'insert'!!] [HAHA! And again!] stone, that's going to take forEVER!", just think "I can lose half a stone. Half a stone is do-able. Any eejit can lose half a stone!" and then when that's done, you can aim to lose another half stone, and then another and another. You're still aiming for that big goal at the end, but rather than feeling you have an impossible mountain to climb, you just feel you have a few gentle inclines to stroll. And who knows - I mean at the moment I'm pretty sure my target is 7 stone, but when I get there, what if I haven't lost quite enough and I have to move the goalposts back by a stone, or maybe even two? If I try telling myself I have to lose nine stone, I'll freak out, but all I ever have to lose is half a stone. I just have to do it quite a few times, that's all.
Come on, then, llamas - time to shimmy away those summertime blues, never mind the rain! Let the fiesta commence!!
*dances round room like a mad eejit*
My mum lost 1 1/2 lbs in her first week, she wasn't overly strict with keeping to the Syns limit either, so she's really pleased to have seen a result. She's determined to follow the diet to the letter and lose 4lbs next week - and I bet she'll do it too!!
This weekend my pal Zara and her son Dominic are coming to visit. I've not seen them in forever and it'll be lovely to catch up with them both. Whatever you're up to over the weekend, I hope you have a good'un - and I'll see you back here on Monday with a round-up of all the weekend's action!!
Monday, 11 June 2012
Harmony Constant
I don't think this will really get it out of my system, but here it is anyway:
29 OCTOBER!! SOMEWHERE IN MANCHESTER!!! ROBERT MICHAEL NESMITH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I found out the news via Milton Keynes' finest export first thing this morning. Normally I'm a miserable old sod of a morning. I don't do conversation, I don't do eye contact and I certainly cannot smile before at least my second coffee. But this morning was different. The overcast drizzly British summertime morning seemed bright and breezy. A song filled my heart, my eyes brightened, the smile on my face spread from ear to ear.
Needless to say, the first thing I did when I arrived in work was book the time off. It's happening. It's finally happening. Me. Nesmith. Same airspace. In the words of Dusty Springfield - I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so excited it's beyond ridiculous. I'm already trying to decide what to wear and realising that I might just be at my target size by October and I don't know how well I can cope with the dual excitement of Nesmith AND skinniness...
I need to link my excitement over the forthcoming Nesmith gig to a recant of my adventures at the weekend. And I can't do that in a particularly smooth manner. So... er... I won't.
I went to see Westlife on Saturday with my pal Sue. She's a huge fan and was so upset that they'd announced they were splitting up before she'd had chance to see them live in concert that she thought 'to hell with it' and ordered two tickets, she didn't care where they were. They weren't together, but they were on the same row - and I, in an unselfish act of kindness *removes tongue from cheek*, agreed to go with her to save her husband the trauma of spending the evening in a room with 16,000 screaming women. Which is understandable.
They were actually very good. Of course, I've liked them since they won the Smash Hits! Pollwinners Best New Act as Westside in 1998, and I used to be absolutely mad about them until around about their third album when I just became far too 60s for anything modern at all. It also sort of coincided with the time they started to be marketed as a sort of Housewives' Choice act and, well, I'm not a housewife so I suppose I'm not the target audience any more. I went to see them on their first arena tour back in 1999 (I think), when they were just another boy band as the boy band trend was dying out - and 90% of the audience was made up of 13 year old girls, and they were pretty good then, but naturally, over the years they've just gone from strength to strength and are genuinely a very good live act. Vocally they're all absolutely spot on and their crowd interaction was brilliant.
Everyone had a good night. It was pretty emotional for them, it was their last gig as a group in Manchester. I suppose it must be a bit weird if you've been doing the same job since you were 18/19 and then you get to 32 and decide it's time for a change - this tour is sort of them working their notice period. Must be really bizarre for them.
They did, however, at one point do a cover of 'Don't Cha' by The Pussycat Dolls. I think the phrase "least said, soonest mended" would apply here. I don't think the reaction they were after was hysterical laughter, and I'm not proud of myself for it, but it was hilarious in all the wrong ways. Just... no. Really. Just. No. Someone will have put it on YouTube by now, and I'd recommend you take a look just for the comedy factor. Which I have a feeling wasn't quite intentional.
All in all, though, it was a great night, they did very well. It's strange that it's all over. It's like they were the last of the great boy bands of the 90s (anyone who is of the mindset 'there were no great boy bands of the 90s' is simply wrong - the 90s were the decade of the boy band, it's like saying there were no great beat groups of the 60s!!). There's quite a large chapter of my teenage years that's been closed by their breakup. I'm not sad or upset or anything, it's just a bit sort of... strange. Still. Onwards and upwards. They'll probably get back together for a reunion tour in five years anyway!!
I have no news on the weight loss front. I'm pretty much back on it now - I discovered yesterday that I'm drinking far too much diet coke and it's made me a bit poorly, so I've quit that. Herbal teas and water all the way it is, then. Serves me right, of course. If I'd only been sensible in my eating and drinking habits in the first place I wouldn't be in this situation now. Still, if I didn't need to lose weight, I wouldn't have started this blog and what would you have to while 10-15 minutes of your day away with?! Exactly. You're welcome!!
Join me again on Wednesday when I might've calmed down slightly from the Most Awesome News Ever In My Life. But don't count on it...!
29 OCTOBER!! SOMEWHERE IN MANCHESTER!!! ROBERT MICHAEL NESMITH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I found out the news via Milton Keynes' finest export first thing this morning. Normally I'm a miserable old sod of a morning. I don't do conversation, I don't do eye contact and I certainly cannot smile before at least my second coffee. But this morning was different. The overcast drizzly British summertime morning seemed bright and breezy. A song filled my heart, my eyes brightened, the smile on my face spread from ear to ear.
Needless to say, the first thing I did when I arrived in work was book the time off. It's happening. It's finally happening. Me. Nesmith. Same airspace. In the words of Dusty Springfield - I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so excited it's beyond ridiculous. I'm already trying to decide what to wear and realising that I might just be at my target size by October and I don't know how well I can cope with the dual excitement of Nesmith AND skinniness...
I need to link my excitement over the forthcoming Nesmith gig to a recant of my adventures at the weekend. And I can't do that in a particularly smooth manner. So... er... I won't.
I went to see Westlife on Saturday with my pal Sue. She's a huge fan and was so upset that they'd announced they were splitting up before she'd had chance to see them live in concert that she thought 'to hell with it' and ordered two tickets, she didn't care where they were. They weren't together, but they were on the same row - and I, in an unselfish act of kindness *removes tongue from cheek*, agreed to go with her to save her husband the trauma of spending the evening in a room with 16,000 screaming women. Which is understandable.
They were actually very good. Of course, I've liked them since they won the Smash Hits! Pollwinners Best New Act as Westside in 1998, and I used to be absolutely mad about them until around about their third album when I just became far too 60s for anything modern at all. It also sort of coincided with the time they started to be marketed as a sort of Housewives' Choice act and, well, I'm not a housewife so I suppose I'm not the target audience any more. I went to see them on their first arena tour back in 1999 (I think), when they were just another boy band as the boy band trend was dying out - and 90% of the audience was made up of 13 year old girls, and they were pretty good then, but naturally, over the years they've just gone from strength to strength and are genuinely a very good live act. Vocally they're all absolutely spot on and their crowd interaction was brilliant.
Everyone had a good night. It was pretty emotional for them, it was their last gig as a group in Manchester. I suppose it must be a bit weird if you've been doing the same job since you were 18/19 and then you get to 32 and decide it's time for a change - this tour is sort of them working their notice period. Must be really bizarre for them.
They did, however, at one point do a cover of 'Don't Cha' by The Pussycat Dolls. I think the phrase "least said, soonest mended" would apply here. I don't think the reaction they were after was hysterical laughter, and I'm not proud of myself for it, but it was hilarious in all the wrong ways. Just... no. Really. Just. No. Someone will have put it on YouTube by now, and I'd recommend you take a look just for the comedy factor. Which I have a feeling wasn't quite intentional.
All in all, though, it was a great night, they did very well. It's strange that it's all over. It's like they were the last of the great boy bands of the 90s (anyone who is of the mindset 'there were no great boy bands of the 90s' is simply wrong - the 90s were the decade of the boy band, it's like saying there were no great beat groups of the 60s!!). There's quite a large chapter of my teenage years that's been closed by their breakup. I'm not sad or upset or anything, it's just a bit sort of... strange. Still. Onwards and upwards. They'll probably get back together for a reunion tour in five years anyway!!
I have no news on the weight loss front. I'm pretty much back on it now - I discovered yesterday that I'm drinking far too much diet coke and it's made me a bit poorly, so I've quit that. Herbal teas and water all the way it is, then. Serves me right, of course. If I'd only been sensible in my eating and drinking habits in the first place I wouldn't be in this situation now. Still, if I didn't need to lose weight, I wouldn't have started this blog and what would you have to while 10-15 minutes of your day away with?! Exactly. You're welcome!!
Join me again on Wednesday when I might've calmed down slightly from the Most Awesome News Ever In My Life. But don't count on it...!
Friday, 18 May 2012
Wham, Bam, Thank You, Scales!
All right, all right, I've calmed down, I've stopped whooping and cartwheeling around the living room long enough to write my Friday blog.
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
Friday, 4 May 2012
Dazed and Confused
I knew I'd end up a confused mess last night. I knew it.
The llamas came home, Enrique set about making sure everyone else was unpacked and after they'd all had a long hot soak in a bubble bath I helped Miguel tie his new neckerchief and put on his new sunglasses. He's a fashion conscious llama but his lack of opposable thumbs does cause him a few problems in the execution of donning and fixing certain items of clothing.
I left them tucking into a lovely tea and told Ricardo I'd give them a call on the Llama Line when I'd been weighed.
I went in, was told by the lady on the front desk that everyone seems a lot happier this week and that the scales seem to have righted themselves. So I paid my fiver, toddled off to the weigh-in point and hopped on the scales.
Normally, I would have been delighted and doing a little jig of ecstasy over the fact the scales said I was 3 1/2 lbs lighter... but I was just confused.
I mean... What does that even mean?!!? Does it mean I've lost 3 1/2 lbs? Does it mean that I've lost 1/2 lb?? Does it mean that I've basically just maintained weight for two weeks and everything's back to normal? I mean... seriously - what happened?!?!
Llamas are a very intelligent bunch but, they're also very inquisitive - so if I'd explained the whole saga of the scales to them, they'd've asked me some very complicated mathematical questions that I couldn't answer. I decided, for the sake of brevity, to just tell them that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs, and so Enrique, invigorated by his week in the sun and hour-long soak in a mint and jasmine bubble bath, quickly got to work on choreographing the llamas' latest dance routine.
Hit it, fellas!! *whips out maracas and dons Carmen Miranda style hat before shimmying around like a loony*
Whewf!!! I've really got to stop moving like that, it plays havoc with my pineapples...
So... I think I've lost weight. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly. I really don't know. I mean, according to those scales I'm 3 1/2 lbs lighter than I was this time last week. So that should make me very happy. But then I know I hadn't put 3lbs on last week. But maybe I had, I mean a person's body does crazy things at crazy times, maybe it was an unwittingly held-in tinkle or something. But then what if it wasn't and these new scales are just dodgy?
I really don't know what to think. It's a mystery to the likes of me.
Still, maybe these new ones are more accurate. After all, I'm definitely starting to see some changes in me, my shoulders are pretty skinny now and I've even noticed my legs are getting a bit slimmer at long last. I'd spent a few weeks not seeing any change at all and worrying that losing 7 stone wasn't going to be enough and I'd almost decided to put my target back by another stone, but I don't think I need to do that now. I've got 10lbs to lose before I get to the half-way mark, and I suppose it'll be easier to judge from then, but I don't think I'll need to lose more than 7 stone. Hope not anyway, the first three are turning into an epic melodrama!!
It's my birthday in a month's time (well, a month yesterday, to be precise) and I'm hoping to have lost the requisite 10lbs to get myself to the half-way mark by then. If I lose more then great, but because it's pretty much slap-bang in the middle of the year I think it's as good a target date to set as any. It might take the edge off the inevitable depression associated with entering into the last year of my 20s. This is it. Goodbye, youth! But at least I'll be old and skinny... Not too skinny though. Fat plumps out the wrinkles. Fact.
Join me again next week sometime when I'll hopefully have some news of something. You may think I'm sounding coy and mysterious but to be honest there's really nothing else doing in SpevLand at the moment, I'm just waiting for something exciting to happen so I can report back on it!!!
The llamas came home, Enrique set about making sure everyone else was unpacked and after they'd all had a long hot soak in a bubble bath I helped Miguel tie his new neckerchief and put on his new sunglasses. He's a fashion conscious llama but his lack of opposable thumbs does cause him a few problems in the execution of donning and fixing certain items of clothing.
I left them tucking into a lovely tea and told Ricardo I'd give them a call on the Llama Line when I'd been weighed.
I went in, was told by the lady on the front desk that everyone seems a lot happier this week and that the scales seem to have righted themselves. So I paid my fiver, toddled off to the weigh-in point and hopped on the scales.
Normally, I would have been delighted and doing a little jig of ecstasy over the fact the scales said I was 3 1/2 lbs lighter... but I was just confused.
I mean... What does that even mean?!!? Does it mean I've lost 3 1/2 lbs? Does it mean that I've lost 1/2 lb?? Does it mean that I've basically just maintained weight for two weeks and everything's back to normal? I mean... seriously - what happened?!?!
Llamas are a very intelligent bunch but, they're also very inquisitive - so if I'd explained the whole saga of the scales to them, they'd've asked me some very complicated mathematical questions that I couldn't answer. I decided, for the sake of brevity, to just tell them that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs, and so Enrique, invigorated by his week in the sun and hour-long soak in a mint and jasmine bubble bath, quickly got to work on choreographing the llamas' latest dance routine.
Hit it, fellas!! *whips out maracas and dons Carmen Miranda style hat before shimmying around like a loony*
Whewf!!! I've really got to stop moving like that, it plays havoc with my pineapples...
So... I think I've lost weight. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly. I really don't know. I mean, according to those scales I'm 3 1/2 lbs lighter than I was this time last week. So that should make me very happy. But then I know I hadn't put 3lbs on last week. But maybe I had, I mean a person's body does crazy things at crazy times, maybe it was an unwittingly held-in tinkle or something. But then what if it wasn't and these new scales are just dodgy?
I really don't know what to think. It's a mystery to the likes of me.
Still, maybe these new ones are more accurate. After all, I'm definitely starting to see some changes in me, my shoulders are pretty skinny now and I've even noticed my legs are getting a bit slimmer at long last. I'd spent a few weeks not seeing any change at all and worrying that losing 7 stone wasn't going to be enough and I'd almost decided to put my target back by another stone, but I don't think I need to do that now. I've got 10lbs to lose before I get to the half-way mark, and I suppose it'll be easier to judge from then, but I don't think I'll need to lose more than 7 stone. Hope not anyway, the first three are turning into an epic melodrama!!
It's my birthday in a month's time (well, a month yesterday, to be precise) and I'm hoping to have lost the requisite 10lbs to get myself to the half-way mark by then. If I lose more then great, but because it's pretty much slap-bang in the middle of the year I think it's as good a target date to set as any. It might take the edge off the inevitable depression associated with entering into the last year of my 20s. This is it. Goodbye, youth! But at least I'll be old and skinny... Not too skinny though. Fat plumps out the wrinkles. Fact.
Join me again next week sometime when I'll hopefully have some news of something. You may think I'm sounding coy and mysterious but to be honest there's really nothing else doing in SpevLand at the moment, I'm just waiting for something exciting to happen so I can report back on it!!!
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Game Face
You know, you'd be surprised at how many people were outraged by Andrea the Consultant's idiocy last Thursday. I know I am. There's been uproar. Who knows what to believe now?!
I suppose that the scales are entirely the wrong thing to concentrate on. I mean, yes, it was very disappointing when they said something I didn't like - but at the moment they give me a number I don't like every week. The number that I saw last Thursday was nowhere near as big as the number I saw on 5 January - in fact if I'd seen that number on 5 January I probably would have done a little jig of happiness. In fact... I can't actually remember what the scales said last Thursday. I'm now all confused with the numbers. It doesn't take much to confuse me in a numerical fashion. I think darts players have supercomputers hardwired into their brains for their incredible mathematical dexterity. How do they always know how count backwards from 501 to finish on a double?! It's a gift. Apparently the meaning of life is 42 - and I'm not mathematically qualified enough to provide any sort of argument to the contrary. I think it's a fluke that I passed my Maths GCSE the first time of asking!
The fact is, my clothes are even more baggy on me than they were a couple of weeks ago. That's got to be the main thing. I don't think it'll take a great deal more weight loss until I've dropped three dress sizes. I think I'm sort of between two and three dress sizes smaller, so obviously nothing fits at all at the moment and I look like a bit of a tramp, but it'll all be all right in the end.
Slimming World does work. I mean - it clearly works. Whether the scales say the right thing or not doesn't really matter - because they're not supposed to say the right thing until you're finished losing weight, that's the whole point.
So, then. Come on. Let's do this. If I was American I may even be tempted to say something motivational, grammatically questionable and a little urban like, "Bring it." But I'm not, so I won't. The fact is, I'm never going to get there if I curl up into a podgy ball and give up at my first real knockback. People put on weight all the time. I've been doing it for years. Even though I know I didn't actually put weight on last week - the only numbers I'm really interested in are the numbers on the labels in my clothes.
In other news, I discovered that my boss doesn't want me to work Saturdays any more. This was extremely annoying on two counts. Firstly, nobody had bothered to mention to me that my services weren't required on Saturdays before I turned up for work on Saturday, when they looked shocked and asked what I was doing there. Secondly, this officially means that I have to get a new job. I keep threatening it but unfortunately I really need to think about moving on now. I don't want to because I hate job hunting and being the newbie and getting to know another new set of people - but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And despite the fact there's a lot less of me now - I still gotta eat.
In other *other* news, I am researching like nobody's business in the hope of getting inspired to continue in The Phantom Winger (I heard someone say at Slimming World the other week that they'd been to the Phantom Winger, and it did take me a few moments to work out what they were talking about! I was all ready to say "Hey, I wrote that! What did you think of it?!" but then I remembered that a) it's a pub and b) I haven't written it yet! It's got a good ending, though. Or at least it will do.) - and by 'research', I basically mean I've been watching a lot of spy films. I think it's helping. Not that I condone or indulge in plaigarism, it's just that those sorts of films do help you to get in the right mindset for a good old spy romp. I'm hoping to make a bit of a start on Chapter Three next week, as soon as I work out exactly where to start it. I had such high hopes for being nearly halfway through the first draft by now, but alas - a writer's lot isn't always a productive one.
So, after a bit of a wobbly start to my weekend, I think things are starting to even out a bit. I'm not really looking forward to the weigh-in tomorrow, because who knows what the crazy scales will tell me this week - and I'm still feeling a bit guilty after Thursday's KFC!! However, whatever happens I will update you on my progress in Friday's blog. The llamas will be back by then, all relaxed and refreshed, and hopefully ready for a good old fiesta!! Get your maracas at the ready... you might well need 'em!!
I suppose that the scales are entirely the wrong thing to concentrate on. I mean, yes, it was very disappointing when they said something I didn't like - but at the moment they give me a number I don't like every week. The number that I saw last Thursday was nowhere near as big as the number I saw on 5 January - in fact if I'd seen that number on 5 January I probably would have done a little jig of happiness. In fact... I can't actually remember what the scales said last Thursday. I'm now all confused with the numbers. It doesn't take much to confuse me in a numerical fashion. I think darts players have supercomputers hardwired into their brains for their incredible mathematical dexterity. How do they always know how count backwards from 501 to finish on a double?! It's a gift. Apparently the meaning of life is 42 - and I'm not mathematically qualified enough to provide any sort of argument to the contrary. I think it's a fluke that I passed my Maths GCSE the first time of asking!
The fact is, my clothes are even more baggy on me than they were a couple of weeks ago. That's got to be the main thing. I don't think it'll take a great deal more weight loss until I've dropped three dress sizes. I think I'm sort of between two and three dress sizes smaller, so obviously nothing fits at all at the moment and I look like a bit of a tramp, but it'll all be all right in the end.
Slimming World does work. I mean - it clearly works. Whether the scales say the right thing or not doesn't really matter - because they're not supposed to say the right thing until you're finished losing weight, that's the whole point.
So, then. Come on. Let's do this. If I was American I may even be tempted to say something motivational, grammatically questionable and a little urban like, "Bring it." But I'm not, so I won't. The fact is, I'm never going to get there if I curl up into a podgy ball and give up at my first real knockback. People put on weight all the time. I've been doing it for years. Even though I know I didn't actually put weight on last week - the only numbers I'm really interested in are the numbers on the labels in my clothes.
In other news, I discovered that my boss doesn't want me to work Saturdays any more. This was extremely annoying on two counts. Firstly, nobody had bothered to mention to me that my services weren't required on Saturdays before I turned up for work on Saturday, when they looked shocked and asked what I was doing there. Secondly, this officially means that I have to get a new job. I keep threatening it but unfortunately I really need to think about moving on now. I don't want to because I hate job hunting and being the newbie and getting to know another new set of people - but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And despite the fact there's a lot less of me now - I still gotta eat.
In other *other* news, I am researching like nobody's business in the hope of getting inspired to continue in The Phantom Winger (I heard someone say at Slimming World the other week that they'd been to the Phantom Winger, and it did take me a few moments to work out what they were talking about! I was all ready to say "Hey, I wrote that! What did you think of it?!" but then I remembered that a) it's a pub and b) I haven't written it yet! It's got a good ending, though. Or at least it will do.) - and by 'research', I basically mean I've been watching a lot of spy films. I think it's helping. Not that I condone or indulge in plaigarism, it's just that those sorts of films do help you to get in the right mindset for a good old spy romp. I'm hoping to make a bit of a start on Chapter Three next week, as soon as I work out exactly where to start it. I had such high hopes for being nearly halfway through the first draft by now, but alas - a writer's lot isn't always a productive one.
So, after a bit of a wobbly start to my weekend, I think things are starting to even out a bit. I'm not really looking forward to the weigh-in tomorrow, because who knows what the crazy scales will tell me this week - and I'm still feeling a bit guilty after Thursday's KFC!! However, whatever happens I will update you on my progress in Friday's blog. The llamas will be back by then, all relaxed and refreshed, and hopefully ready for a good old fiesta!! Get your maracas at the ready... you might well need 'em!!
Friday, 20 April 2012
Turned Out Nice Again
So. It's all been a bit boring this week, as previously documented. I've still not overeaten. I still can't really be bothered having any treats. Nothing exciting has happened.
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
Friday, 9 March 2012
I am Not a Number, I am a Free Woman!
You see, there's a reason for me updating my blog on a Friday rather than on a Thursday night. If I'd asked the llamas to dance for me last night, Ricardo would have looked derisively at me and replied, "La mitad de una libra? Eso no vale ni siquiera una sonrisa, la novia!" - or, as they say in Spanish, "Half a pound? That isn't even worth a smile, girlfriend!"
He'd have been right. I was gutted. There's no point in all of this 'any loss is a good loss' thing as soon as you get that news. It's very encouraging and motivating two or three hours later when you've finished beating yourself up and you're in the process of dusting yourself down and starting all over again - and admittedly it's more helpful than handing over a large slice of chocolate cake and saying "to hell with it, get this down you!" But at the time - when you'd been hoping and striving to lose a minimum of 2lbs and you only lose 1/2lb - trying to get any posititivity out of that feeling of abject failure is really tough.
However, I've slept on it. Not the llama - the bitter disappointment that after a week of sensible eating and walking like a true Wainwright, I only lost half a blasted pound. Now, after a fabulous night's sleep - now I can say the words we've all been waiting for all week:
Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room shaking maracas*
Why the celebration?? Because, as I realised this morning, my focus had been dead wrong all week.
When I first started this weight loss thing, I wanted to lose five dress sizes. I had absolutely no idea how much I weighed because I'd been too scared to stand on a pair of scales for at least five years (even when I got weighed at the doctors I closed my eyes and told them not to tell me what the scales said!), and I had no idea how much I wanted or, indeed, needed to lose in pounds and ounces. That's still my aim. I didn't think I'd lost sight of that, particularly, but when people start bringing scales into the equation, naturally your focus gets shifted to how much you weigh now and how much you ideally should weigh.
Thankfully, Slimming World aren't interested particularly in focussing on BMIs and don't have that "if you're X feet and inches tall you should weigh X stone otherwise you're fat" mentality. You set your own target, you don't even need to tell them what it is if you don't want to, they'll just give you the right support until you get to wherever you want to be. Which is great. But, for practical and logistic reasons, they do need to focus on the pounds. Which is a very contagious focus, especially when you can't really see much difference but the scales tell you that you're definitely losing weight.
This week was completely the opposite. I can now see that I'm getting smaller. Even though it's only been a week I can see how the walking is helping to tone me up. I can tell by my clothes being a lot more loose-fitting that I'm getting smaller. I am still working towards being five sizes smaller. I've lost one dress size already. I've only got four to go by August. I'll still do it. It's all about the shape. I'm not going to be dicatated to by a set of numbers on a pair of scales. I'm still Being Skinny!! Even if I did only lose half a pound!!
So, to any of my pals or my other readers who are also on a weight-loss journey and have had similar blip, honestly - don't feel down. You've not failed, even though you might think it. You're still winning. It's the small battles that count. We can all do this. It'll happen. We just need to keep our focus in the right place. You will never wear a pair of scales but you will wear lovely clothes in smaller sizes. You will. It'll happen. Let's do this!!
Join me again on Monday, when I'll give you a full report of the weekend's activity - I'm really excited about seeing my beautiful niece and gorgeous nephews (biological and adopted!) this weekend for one of the early celebrations of Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary. It'll be a lovely weekend - and whatever it is you're up to over the next couple of days, have a fabulous time and I'll see you back here on Monday!!
He'd have been right. I was gutted. There's no point in all of this 'any loss is a good loss' thing as soon as you get that news. It's very encouraging and motivating two or three hours later when you've finished beating yourself up and you're in the process of dusting yourself down and starting all over again - and admittedly it's more helpful than handing over a large slice of chocolate cake and saying "to hell with it, get this down you!" But at the time - when you'd been hoping and striving to lose a minimum of 2lbs and you only lose 1/2lb - trying to get any posititivity out of that feeling of abject failure is really tough.
However, I've slept on it. Not the llama - the bitter disappointment that after a week of sensible eating and walking like a true Wainwright, I only lost half a blasted pound. Now, after a fabulous night's sleep - now I can say the words we've all been waiting for all week:
Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room shaking maracas*
Why the celebration?? Because, as I realised this morning, my focus had been dead wrong all week.
When I first started this weight loss thing, I wanted to lose five dress sizes. I had absolutely no idea how much I weighed because I'd been too scared to stand on a pair of scales for at least five years (even when I got weighed at the doctors I closed my eyes and told them not to tell me what the scales said!), and I had no idea how much I wanted or, indeed, needed to lose in pounds and ounces. That's still my aim. I didn't think I'd lost sight of that, particularly, but when people start bringing scales into the equation, naturally your focus gets shifted to how much you weigh now and how much you ideally should weigh.
Thankfully, Slimming World aren't interested particularly in focussing on BMIs and don't have that "if you're X feet and inches tall you should weigh X stone otherwise you're fat" mentality. You set your own target, you don't even need to tell them what it is if you don't want to, they'll just give you the right support until you get to wherever you want to be. Which is great. But, for practical and logistic reasons, they do need to focus on the pounds. Which is a very contagious focus, especially when you can't really see much difference but the scales tell you that you're definitely losing weight.
This week was completely the opposite. I can now see that I'm getting smaller. Even though it's only been a week I can see how the walking is helping to tone me up. I can tell by my clothes being a lot more loose-fitting that I'm getting smaller. I am still working towards being five sizes smaller. I've lost one dress size already. I've only got four to go by August. I'll still do it. It's all about the shape. I'm not going to be dicatated to by a set of numbers on a pair of scales. I'm still Being Skinny!! Even if I did only lose half a pound!!
So, to any of my pals or my other readers who are also on a weight-loss journey and have had similar blip, honestly - don't feel down. You've not failed, even though you might think it. You're still winning. It's the small battles that count. We can all do this. It'll happen. We just need to keep our focus in the right place. You will never wear a pair of scales but you will wear lovely clothes in smaller sizes. You will. It'll happen. Let's do this!!
Join me again on Monday, when I'll give you a full report of the weekend's activity - I'm really excited about seeing my beautiful niece and gorgeous nephews (biological and adopted!) this weekend for one of the early celebrations of Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary. It'll be a lovely weekend - and whatever it is you're up to over the next couple of days, have a fabulous time and I'll see you back here on Monday!!
Friday, 24 February 2012
They've Got the Hooves Like Jagger
(Title courtesy of JR Wainwright. Not to be confused with JR Hartley, the fella who wrote the book on fly fishing)
I think you know who have the hooves like Jagger. Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room in a frenzy*
NB: Just to confirm, the llamas are only dancing. I don't want anyone to think that they've been goosestepping onstage in Munich like Jagger did in the early 60s. They're sensitive souls, my llamas, they're not a controversial breed of llama. They're all about celebratory dancing when someone loses weight. And Ricardo, my lead dancing llama, has just invested in some gold lamé leg warmers... so that might give you some sort of idea about the kind of llamas I have on my team.
I know, I know what you're saying. This kind of celebratory fiesta is a little excessive for a person who has only lost 2lbs. It's not as if I've lost 14 stone in one day (© Peter Kay). Although that'd be very helpful. Well, in the words of Jimmy Cricket, "There's more, there's more!"
I was quite pleased with myself, as you can imagine, after drinking like Oliver Reed at a lock-in on Saturday night, and also after my scary dream on Tuesday. But I was sat there, quietly minding my own business, texting everyone frantically in a "Look at me being skinny!" fashion, while everyone around me chattered among themselves. The meeting started a bit late, and Andrea the Consultant said that there were a few certificates to hand out that week, so she decided to start with the Slimmer of the Month award.
"The Slimmer of the Month lost 9 1/2 lbs this month!" she declared.
'Cor blimey, that's a lot! I wonder how much I've lost this month?' I thought, tilting my head and looking a bit gormless as I attempted to add 1 1/2 and 1 together.
"It's Heather!" she finished.
You can imagine my shock, I'm quite sure. I mean. I've been whinging about not losing enough, about not losing fast enough and generally about the fact that it's now been seven weeks and I'm not yet slim enough to be Catherine Zeta Jones' body double. And yet, there I was, trudging along at a slow and steady 'losing between one and two pounds a week' manner - and it's little ol' me that gets Slimmer of the Month! *excited jig*
I think you know who have the hooves like Jagger. Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room in a frenzy*
NB: Just to confirm, the llamas are only dancing. I don't want anyone to think that they've been goosestepping onstage in Munich like Jagger did in the early 60s. They're sensitive souls, my llamas, they're not a controversial breed of llama. They're all about celebratory dancing when someone loses weight. And Ricardo, my lead dancing llama, has just invested in some gold lamé leg warmers... so that might give you some sort of idea about the kind of llamas I have on my team.
I know, I know what you're saying. This kind of celebratory fiesta is a little excessive for a person who has only lost 2lbs. It's not as if I've lost 14 stone in one day (© Peter Kay). Although that'd be very helpful. Well, in the words of Jimmy Cricket, "There's more, there's more!"
I was quite pleased with myself, as you can imagine, after drinking like Oliver Reed at a lock-in on Saturday night, and also after my scary dream on Tuesday. But I was sat there, quietly minding my own business, texting everyone frantically in a "Look at me being skinny!" fashion, while everyone around me chattered among themselves. The meeting started a bit late, and Andrea the Consultant said that there were a few certificates to hand out that week, so she decided to start with the Slimmer of the Month award.
"The Slimmer of the Month lost 9 1/2 lbs this month!" she declared.
'Cor blimey, that's a lot! I wonder how much I've lost this month?' I thought, tilting my head and looking a bit gormless as I attempted to add 1 1/2 and 1 together.
"It's Heather!" she finished.
You can imagine my shock, I'm quite sure. I mean. I've been whinging about not losing enough, about not losing fast enough and generally about the fact that it's now been seven weeks and I'm not yet slim enough to be Catherine Zeta Jones' body double. And yet, there I was, trudging along at a slow and steady 'losing between one and two pounds a week' manner - and it's little ol' me that gets Slimmer of the Month! *excited jig*
¯Nice and easy does it - ev'ry tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmme!!!¯
Even more excitingly, the timeline thing on my weight-loss planner has changed dramatically. I am now looking to achieve my target by the end of October. But I'll certainly be well on the way by the beginning of August. I did say last week or the week before that I knew August would be a bit of a big ask, so having October to aim for is a lot less disheartening than the middle of April next year!
So, everything seems good again. I'm really happy with yesterday. I know losing 2lbs a week is never likely to break any records, but if it gets me to where I want to be, I'm delighted with that. From now on I will adopt the mindset of Auntie Heath (the Diet Lama menioned a few weeks ago - still not to be confused with either the Dalai Lama or, indeed, my dancing llamas) and think that *any* loss is a great result.
Remind me of that on weeks where I've been really good and only lost half a pound...!!
So. Tonight, Rachael and I are going to see Pete Firman at King George's Hall in Blackburn. Blackburn is probably not the most glamorous of places, but tonight it will be filled with magic - and comedy, as the man who has been dubbed 'the poster boy for magic comedy in the UK' comes to town!! So excited. I mean. I don't think I could be more excited if I tried. It'll be a great night - I just hope that he doesn't look our way when he decides he needs a volunteer for a trick, I would literally die of shame... and then send Rachael...!!
I hope you all have a really exciting weekend jam-packed with frivolity. Join me again on Monday for a full round-up of tonight's frivolities and a look to another exciting week ahead!!
Friday, 17 February 2012
Happy Dancing
C'mon, llamas - time for you lot to get your dancing hooves on!!
*shakes maracas and dances round like a thing possessed*
Never in my whole life have I been so happy to lose one pound!! That's it. First stone - BAYY-UMM!! Gone!! Never coming back!!! This is it, folks. One down, six to go. I can do this. I can. I can do it. Certainly by the end of the year. Perhaps August is a bit of a big ask. But I can get most of this weight boxed off by then, at least!!
I'm not losing as fast as I'd like. I knew it wasn't going to be easy and that I probably wouldn't lose 5lbs a week indefintely. But after a fortnight of extra Being Good and only having lost a total of 2 1/2lbs, I must say I'm feeling a little nonplussed by the idea that eating less slows down your slimming rate. I noshed like a mad eejit in my first week and lost 5 1/2 lbs. Haven't eaten so much since and haven't lost as much weight. There may be something in that. I put in my target weight on the Slimming World Online site and according to their calculations I might have reached it by 8 April 2013. That's a bit depressing. I really need to get my act together and just try harder. I'm not sure how they worked it out, though. If I lost a stone in six weeks, not even at lightning pace, I don't understand why they think it'll take me 14 months to lose the other six... I'll just have to prove the calculator wrong, that's all. What do calculators know, anyway?! Nothing, they're just machines. The maths is wrong. They haven't reckoned on me - SuperSpev! I'll slim down like some sort of slimming ninja (slimmer in a half-shell... SKINNY POWER!) and reach my target weight before they've even registered it!
Besides, I haven't really eaten much the last couple of weeks through one thing and another. I think the only way that Slimming World really works is if you do eat. And eat. And, by Jove, keep eating. It's my kinda diet.
Mr Syn Free Sausage 2012 has agreed to come to the club in the next couple of weeks with a selection of snorkers and burgers and all sorts of yummy stuff like that. We all got a little note on our seats to tell us. I couldn't help but laugh when Andrea the Consultant referred to him as The Sausage Man. She then went on, quite randomly, to ask if anyone had Special Pancakes. Well. I was in stitches. Apparently, and this sounds gross, so never do it. If you put a packet of microwavable porridge oats in a Muller Light yoghurt along with two eggs and mix it all up, then put it in the fridge overnight, it ends up making a pancake batter. I would seriously rather go without. It sounds hideous. I'll have real pancakes when I'm thin, thanks.
Dave the Bloke wasn't there, but another bloke has joined. I don't like him. He's not a groovy guy like Dave the Bloke, and he has definite hygiene issues. The room was pratically empty and he turned up late with his mum and they chose to come and sit next to me. He almost took up half of my chair as well as his own. Dude. Personal space. And they didn't even acknowledge I was there! Just rude. Beth the Legend was also strangely absent.
We had a taster evening, which I didn't partake in. Felt a bit embarrassed. I know it's a highly illogical thing, but I've never been a fan of eating in public and have had several cruel comments passed at me on the odd occasion I do - even when I was thinner. I know, the last place I would get abuse hurled at me for eating would be in a slimming club - especially when some of the people there are bigger than me... but... nah. Not my scene. Someone made chicken fried rice using honey and soy sauce. She gave us the recipe and I might have a bash at making it - possibly without the honey. It sounded awesome and practically Syn free. Someone else made a vanilla cheesecake which sounded utterly sublime. Must look for the recipes online!
Jo and I are going to Manchester tomorrow to see Olly Murs (to be said in the dramatic style of Voiceover Man from X-Factor - OLLY MUUURRRS!!!). Really excited, should be a great night - and at least I don't need to worry about missing The Magicians! Will provide a full report of the action from the weekend in Monday's update. I hope everyone has an equally fabulous weekend, whatever your plans are. Be good!!
*shakes maracas and dances round like a thing possessed*
Never in my whole life have I been so happy to lose one pound!! That's it. First stone - BAYY-UMM!! Gone!! Never coming back!!! This is it, folks. One down, six to go. I can do this. I can. I can do it. Certainly by the end of the year. Perhaps August is a bit of a big ask. But I can get most of this weight boxed off by then, at least!!
I'm not losing as fast as I'd like. I knew it wasn't going to be easy and that I probably wouldn't lose 5lbs a week indefintely. But after a fortnight of extra Being Good and only having lost a total of 2 1/2lbs, I must say I'm feeling a little nonplussed by the idea that eating less slows down your slimming rate. I noshed like a mad eejit in my first week and lost 5 1/2 lbs. Haven't eaten so much since and haven't lost as much weight. There may be something in that. I put in my target weight on the Slimming World Online site and according to their calculations I might have reached it by 8 April 2013. That's a bit depressing. I really need to get my act together and just try harder. I'm not sure how they worked it out, though. If I lost a stone in six weeks, not even at lightning pace, I don't understand why they think it'll take me 14 months to lose the other six... I'll just have to prove the calculator wrong, that's all. What do calculators know, anyway?! Nothing, they're just machines. The maths is wrong. They haven't reckoned on me - SuperSpev! I'll slim down like some sort of slimming ninja (slimmer in a half-shell... SKINNY POWER!) and reach my target weight before they've even registered it!
Besides, I haven't really eaten much the last couple of weeks through one thing and another. I think the only way that Slimming World really works is if you do eat. And eat. And, by Jove, keep eating. It's my kinda diet.
Mr Syn Free Sausage 2012 has agreed to come to the club in the next couple of weeks with a selection of snorkers and burgers and all sorts of yummy stuff like that. We all got a little note on our seats to tell us. I couldn't help but laugh when Andrea the Consultant referred to him as The Sausage Man. She then went on, quite randomly, to ask if anyone had Special Pancakes. Well. I was in stitches. Apparently, and this sounds gross, so never do it. If you put a packet of microwavable porridge oats in a Muller Light yoghurt along with two eggs and mix it all up, then put it in the fridge overnight, it ends up making a pancake batter. I would seriously rather go without. It sounds hideous. I'll have real pancakes when I'm thin, thanks.
Dave the Bloke wasn't there, but another bloke has joined. I don't like him. He's not a groovy guy like Dave the Bloke, and he has definite hygiene issues. The room was pratically empty and he turned up late with his mum and they chose to come and sit next to me. He almost took up half of my chair as well as his own. Dude. Personal space. And they didn't even acknowledge I was there! Just rude. Beth the Legend was also strangely absent.
We had a taster evening, which I didn't partake in. Felt a bit embarrassed. I know it's a highly illogical thing, but I've never been a fan of eating in public and have had several cruel comments passed at me on the odd occasion I do - even when I was thinner. I know, the last place I would get abuse hurled at me for eating would be in a slimming club - especially when some of the people there are bigger than me... but... nah. Not my scene. Someone made chicken fried rice using honey and soy sauce. She gave us the recipe and I might have a bash at making it - possibly without the honey. It sounded awesome and practically Syn free. Someone else made a vanilla cheesecake which sounded utterly sublime. Must look for the recipes online!
Jo and I are going to Manchester tomorrow to see Olly Murs (to be said in the dramatic style of Voiceover Man from X-Factor - OLLY MUUURRRS!!!). Really excited, should be a great night - and at least I don't need to worry about missing The Magicians! Will provide a full report of the action from the weekend in Monday's update. I hope everyone has an equally fabulous weekend, whatever your plans are. Be good!!
Friday, 10 February 2012
I Don't Feel Like Dancing
Well. I may not - but the llamas have certainly managed to muster up a gentle soft shoe shuffle sway. Hit it, lads!!
If you've never seen a herd of llamas hoofing to jazz music while wearing sombreros and leg warmers, it really is a sight to behold.
I lost 1 1/2lbs. Gutted. One measly, stinking, rotten pound off my first stone. That's all! A pound! That's all I needed!! Seven whole days of extra deprivation and generally Being Good - and all it came to was 1 1/2lbs. I don't know if I'd've felt much worse if I'd stayed the same or put weight on.
I wasn't expecting to feel this way on the weight loss front. Logically, you would think that any weight loss is great, and legend has it that losing small amounts of weight every week is healthier than losing tonnes of weight every week because the small amounts of weight tend to stay off more than the large amounts. I know all of that. I do. And I'm delighted that it's only taken five weeks to drop nearly a stone. But that's also the problem. NEARLY. Not quite.
I might blame yesterday, though. I knew it was going to be worse than I imagined. My colleague came into the office first thing yesterday morning and conversation went thus:
JAMES: Heath, how long do you get for lunch?
ME: Half an hour.
JAMES: If we all go a bit early, do you want to go to the Italian for lunch? My treat!
ME: [without pausing for thought] Yes. Yes. Yes I do. Yes. Yes please. I am in. [thinks for a moment] Hell to the yes. Yes yes.
I perused the menu and finally selected something that sounded very healthy. It promised salmon (free!) and penne (free!) in a tomato sauce with cherry tomatoes (depending on what oil they use... also free!). I thought at the most it'd only be three or four Syns. Well. It would have been - if the whole thing hadn't been cooked in a very rich buttery, creamy sauce!! ARGH!!!
Tell you what though. It was bloomin' *amazing*.
To make up for it, I went Bacardi-less last night. I think I've gone three nights this week without an alcoholic beverage. Three nights of sobriety and I still only lost 1 1/2 lbs!! Epic fail.
Apparently, everyone seems to think that if I continue in the same vein this week I will lose more next week. And I hope so. I know it isn't a race and that if I just keep doing what I'm doing I'll get there in the end... I just can't help but feel I'm failing a little bit.
I do, however, have a lovely weekend to look forward to, which I know will cheer me up no end. By the time Monday rolls around I will probably feel much more like my usual perky self, and not like Grumpy McGrumpster from the clan McGrumpbag. Hoots, ma wee tatty bogle.
I hope all of you are also planning on doing some fabulous things over the weekend. Whatever you do, have a great time, be good, if you can't be good, be careful - and don't forget to vote Team Pete on The Magicians on Saturday night!
If you've never seen a herd of llamas hoofing to jazz music while wearing sombreros and leg warmers, it really is a sight to behold.
I lost 1 1/2lbs. Gutted. One measly, stinking, rotten pound off my first stone. That's all! A pound! That's all I needed!! Seven whole days of extra deprivation and generally Being Good - and all it came to was 1 1/2lbs. I don't know if I'd've felt much worse if I'd stayed the same or put weight on.
I wasn't expecting to feel this way on the weight loss front. Logically, you would think that any weight loss is great, and legend has it that losing small amounts of weight every week is healthier than losing tonnes of weight every week because the small amounts of weight tend to stay off more than the large amounts. I know all of that. I do. And I'm delighted that it's only taken five weeks to drop nearly a stone. But that's also the problem. NEARLY. Not quite.
I might blame yesterday, though. I knew it was going to be worse than I imagined. My colleague came into the office first thing yesterday morning and conversation went thus:
JAMES: Heath, how long do you get for lunch?
ME: Half an hour.
JAMES: If we all go a bit early, do you want to go to the Italian for lunch? My treat!
ME: [without pausing for thought] Yes. Yes. Yes I do. Yes. Yes please. I am in. [thinks for a moment] Hell to the yes. Yes yes.
I perused the menu and finally selected something that sounded very healthy. It promised salmon (free!) and penne (free!) in a tomato sauce with cherry tomatoes (depending on what oil they use... also free!). I thought at the most it'd only be three or four Syns. Well. It would have been - if the whole thing hadn't been cooked in a very rich buttery, creamy sauce!! ARGH!!!
Tell you what though. It was bloomin' *amazing*.
To make up for it, I went Bacardi-less last night. I think I've gone three nights this week without an alcoholic beverage. Three nights of sobriety and I still only lost 1 1/2 lbs!! Epic fail.
Apparently, everyone seems to think that if I continue in the same vein this week I will lose more next week. And I hope so. I know it isn't a race and that if I just keep doing what I'm doing I'll get there in the end... I just can't help but feel I'm failing a little bit.
I do, however, have a lovely weekend to look forward to, which I know will cheer me up no end. By the time Monday rolls around I will probably feel much more like my usual perky self, and not like Grumpy McGrumpster from the clan McGrumpbag. Hoots, ma wee tatty bogle.
I hope all of you are also planning on doing some fabulous things over the weekend. Whatever you do, have a great time, be good, if you can't be good, be careful - and don't forget to vote Team Pete on The Magicians on Saturday night!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)