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 slimming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slimming. 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...
Monday, 6 January 2014
Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off, Start All Over Again
So, yes, it's been ages.
2013 was officially the worst year of my life. Turning 30, surprisingly, was the least traumatic event of the year. Most of my pals know the main things that have happened to my family and I this past year, and just one of them would've been enough to send anyone over the edge - but the culmination of all the traumas ended up with me completely losing it in July and I've been too ill to work since.
Not to mention the fact that the RSPCA have revoked my llama-keeping licence. I sent the boys on holiday to Bolivia and apparently that makes me responsible for the veritable epidemic of llamas in Bolivia. Trust me, nobody was more surprised than I was. All this time I thought they were gay.
Anyway. Now it's 2014 and I haven't stopped thinking about the fact that I've hit the big Three-Oh and still not actually achieved anything I'd set out to achieve. My twenties were mostly a dreadful waste of time and energy. I don't even remember most of them, they were such a non-event. And I'm buggered if I'll waste my thirties in the same way. I don't want to wake up one morning and suddenly realise I'm 40 and be at the same point in my life that I'm at now.
So that's sort of part of the reason I've decided to lose weight again. For the last time. I've really no intention of putting myself through this more than twice. I haven't weighed myself yet but I'm pretty sure I've put all five stone and then some back on. To be honest, the way last year panned out I'm amazed I haven't put twice as much back on. But last year is over. It's time to stop moping and wallowing and sort myself out once and for all. And with everything else spinning horribly out of control - the one thing in my life I do have any say over is what I put into this colossal sphere with limbs known as my body. Maybe if I can get one thing under control, other things might follow. One thing at a time, and all that.
After having lost weight and put it on again, I am aware of a few things. My size actually is important in the way I feel about myself, no matter how much I would like to believe otherwise. I don't judge other people by their size or their looks, and most normal people don't - but I really don't need any excuse to find something to hate and judge myself over. Although intrinsically I'm the same person I always have been, I do know that when I was a bit smaller I wasn't so terrified of going out in public. I'm never going to think I'm in any way awesome, but I know I did get to the stage where I didn't feel like I was too fat and too ugly to live any more. That was quite a nice feeling. I never felt pretty, but I at least felt average-looking, which was a really huge leap for me. Perhaps that's the ceiling. I can't be proud of myself and I can't love myself or like myself - but I KNOW I managed to feel OK about myself. I'd like to feel OK again.
I am not going to rejoin Slimming World, however, I am going to try and stick to the principles of it as closely as I can. It isn't a diet a person can realistically live with for the rest of their life, but there's no denying that their methods do work, Also, I don't want to set myself a time-based target to lose weight by, because I know it took me years to get this gigantic and it's going to take a similar length of time to start looking like a person again. So if by June I haven't lost three stone or whatever little goal I might have in mind, I don't want to freak out about it. It'll happen eventually because I'm going to have to make it happen. Sadly, nobody's gonna come along, wave a magic wand and transform me into Scarlett Johansson!! I have a dress size in mind, rather than a weight. It takes longer to lose a dress size than it does to lose a pound, so that's why I'll be weighing myself once a week. Last time my big letdown was the fact I didn't really exercise, so I know I need to prioritise doing that. Even if it does look like I'm gaining weight at first - someone please remind me that muscle weighs more than fat!!
I'm going to keep the blog going again as well. It's good therapy for me and you never know, hopefully it might help other people too - especially people who've lost a significant amount of weight and then put it back on. It happens. I know I'm not the only one who's done it - and it's nice to know that other people feel the same way and have the same experiences. Being fat is isolating enough without feeling like you're the only one who feels the way you feel. Yes, you do feel ashamed of yourself for being weak enough to get yourself back to the very place you didn't want to be in - but you don't just have one go at weight-loss. For some people it's not an issue, but for a lot of us it is truly a battle - and the one thing you need in a battle is support from your pals. I know how much the support of all my friends meant to me and how much it genuinely helped me keep going when I thought I couldn't back in 2012, and I know I can't do it again without the same encouragement.
I've binned the chocolate. I've knocked booze on the head. Bread and I are no longer friends. I am going to adopt my game face, I will have a cast-iron resolve and hey, eventually - I will have one hell of a wardrobe. In the meantime, I've got work to do.
Now then, where did I put my Skip-It?!?!
2013 was officially the worst year of my life. Turning 30, surprisingly, was the least traumatic event of the year. Most of my pals know the main things that have happened to my family and I this past year, and just one of them would've been enough to send anyone over the edge - but the culmination of all the traumas ended up with me completely losing it in July and I've been too ill to work since.
Not to mention the fact that the RSPCA have revoked my llama-keeping licence. I sent the boys on holiday to Bolivia and apparently that makes me responsible for the veritable epidemic of llamas in Bolivia. Trust me, nobody was more surprised than I was. All this time I thought they were gay.
Anyway. Now it's 2014 and I haven't stopped thinking about the fact that I've hit the big Three-Oh and still not actually achieved anything I'd set out to achieve. My twenties were mostly a dreadful waste of time and energy. I don't even remember most of them, they were such a non-event. And I'm buggered if I'll waste my thirties in the same way. I don't want to wake up one morning and suddenly realise I'm 40 and be at the same point in my life that I'm at now.
So that's sort of part of the reason I've decided to lose weight again. For the last time. I've really no intention of putting myself through this more than twice. I haven't weighed myself yet but I'm pretty sure I've put all five stone and then some back on. To be honest, the way last year panned out I'm amazed I haven't put twice as much back on. But last year is over. It's time to stop moping and wallowing and sort myself out once and for all. And with everything else spinning horribly out of control - the one thing in my life I do have any say over is what I put into this colossal sphere with limbs known as my body. Maybe if I can get one thing under control, other things might follow. One thing at a time, and all that.
After having lost weight and put it on again, I am aware of a few things. My size actually is important in the way I feel about myself, no matter how much I would like to believe otherwise. I don't judge other people by their size or their looks, and most normal people don't - but I really don't need any excuse to find something to hate and judge myself over. Although intrinsically I'm the same person I always have been, I do know that when I was a bit smaller I wasn't so terrified of going out in public. I'm never going to think I'm in any way awesome, but I know I did get to the stage where I didn't feel like I was too fat and too ugly to live any more. That was quite a nice feeling. I never felt pretty, but I at least felt average-looking, which was a really huge leap for me. Perhaps that's the ceiling. I can't be proud of myself and I can't love myself or like myself - but I KNOW I managed to feel OK about myself. I'd like to feel OK again.
I am not going to rejoin Slimming World, however, I am going to try and stick to the principles of it as closely as I can. It isn't a diet a person can realistically live with for the rest of their life, but there's no denying that their methods do work, Also, I don't want to set myself a time-based target to lose weight by, because I know it took me years to get this gigantic and it's going to take a similar length of time to start looking like a person again. So if by June I haven't lost three stone or whatever little goal I might have in mind, I don't want to freak out about it. It'll happen eventually because I'm going to have to make it happen. Sadly, nobody's gonna come along, wave a magic wand and transform me into Scarlett Johansson!! I have a dress size in mind, rather than a weight. It takes longer to lose a dress size than it does to lose a pound, so that's why I'll be weighing myself once a week. Last time my big letdown was the fact I didn't really exercise, so I know I need to prioritise doing that. Even if it does look like I'm gaining weight at first - someone please remind me that muscle weighs more than fat!!
I'm going to keep the blog going again as well. It's good therapy for me and you never know, hopefully it might help other people too - especially people who've lost a significant amount of weight and then put it back on. It happens. I know I'm not the only one who's done it - and it's nice to know that other people feel the same way and have the same experiences. Being fat is isolating enough without feeling like you're the only one who feels the way you feel. Yes, you do feel ashamed of yourself for being weak enough to get yourself back to the very place you didn't want to be in - but you don't just have one go at weight-loss. For some people it's not an issue, but for a lot of us it is truly a battle - and the one thing you need in a battle is support from your pals. I know how much the support of all my friends meant to me and how much it genuinely helped me keep going when I thought I couldn't back in 2012, and I know I can't do it again without the same encouragement.
I've binned the chocolate. I've knocked booze on the head. Bread and I are no longer friends. I am going to adopt my game face, I will have a cast-iron resolve and hey, eventually - I will have one hell of a wardrobe. In the meantime, I've got work to do.
Now then, where did I put my Skip-It?!?!
Friday, 14 September 2012
Get. In.
Hello, hello, hello and welcome everybody to my formerly thrice-weekly blog which now appears to be my once-in-a-blue-moon-but-more-commonly-on-a-Friday blog.
So anyway, this week has been rather non-eventful. I mean there's really not been much to report of anything, it's all work and very little play. I've also gone back on the wagon and sobriety really isn't the most cheerful of mindsets for anyone, especially when you can't even substitute it for doughnuts or chocolate cake.
I hadn't really given a great deal of thought to the diet, particularly, and in fact, as my weight loss has been so hit and miss over the last ten weeks or so, I was quite convinced that if anything I'd've put weight on this week. Especially when I realised that I've not been eating nearly so much veg as I should be eating. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "There's always next week, I'll try harder then! I've still got another six weeks to lose a dress size, no big deal."
Imagine, then, my surprise when the scales declared that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs!!
The llamas were chuffed. They're all ready to go with this week's fiesta, so without any further ado - hit it, lads!!
Whew! That was great, boys!! Just the job!
I was delighted with that result. I honestly didn't expect it. I thought my weeks of losing big numbers of lbs were long gone, and that it'd be a slow and boring, pleasure-free road to box off my last three stone, half a pound here, a pound there... I thought it'd take me The Rest Of My Rotten Stinkin' Life to do it. But now - now there is hope! Now there is a little bright, cheery spark in my heart that says, "Come on, Spevvo, you can do this!! You're probably not really too far now and you'll be legitimately skinny rather than just relatively skinny in comparison to your former spherical physique!"
I mean I have to do it and I have to do it soon. The time left is reduced. I've done all right so far, like, and aside from just not stressing about things and following the plan as best as I can, I'm not 100% sure what else I can do. More fruit, more veg, I don't know if I've ever recommended green tea and a slice of lemon, but trust me, it works. It's an acquired taste but it's a taste well worth acquiring. It'll all come off eventually. I'll soon be svelte. I'll achieve voluptuous rather than rotund. I'll wiggle in all the right places. This will happen. Because if it doesn't, I think I'll cry. Which won't be a remotely helpful reaction and it won't even make me feel better about it but it's the one thing slightly more positive than jumping off a tall building.
The thing that cheered me up the most was that finally, Andrea the Consultant told me that I was really doing well. She said "You're disappearing before my very eyes! You must feel great!!" I genuinely didn't think she'd noticed. A couple of the ladies in group have come up to me and been like "Good grief, you can really tell you've lost weight, you're looking good!" which is really nice, but it was great to finally get a bit of a high five from the lady in charge. She's never been discouraging or dismissive, I'd like to make that clear, but I just genuinely didn't think she'd noticed, and that because she hadn't said anything I mustn't actually look like I've lost any weight. Which obviously is a stupidly warped thought process, I mean for chuff's sake I've lost 60lbs now, I must literally be the only person on earth who hasn't really noticed the difference in me!! In fairness, I avoid reflective surfaces like the plague and whenever I look down at myself all I can see are my bosoms and my hair so I suppose the fact they're still very much there isn't too much of an indicator about how well I've actually done.
So, I went home and had a yummy Slimming World tea of sirloin steak, new potatoes, and fried mushrooms and tomatoes. It was fabulous. My sister is officially the best cook in the world.
This weekend I'm going to a party on Saturday, which will be great. I'm still on the wagon and I'm the designated driver so I'm going to have to do the Being Sober While Meeting New People thing, which is a little worrying, but the people I do know who are going are fabulous so I'm sure it'll all be great. The only problem is that nowadays I only have clothes for work and clothes for the Kingdom Hall. I have no other items of clothing, and as I'm an anti-social sod, I definitely have no party clothes. I'll probably end up going and looking really overdressed. But at least I won't be scruffy!!
Join me sometime next week. Definitely on Friday, when hopefully I'll be even closer to my 4 1/2 stone shiny sticker!!
So anyway, this week has been rather non-eventful. I mean there's really not been much to report of anything, it's all work and very little play. I've also gone back on the wagon and sobriety really isn't the most cheerful of mindsets for anyone, especially when you can't even substitute it for doughnuts or chocolate cake.
I hadn't really given a great deal of thought to the diet, particularly, and in fact, as my weight loss has been so hit and miss over the last ten weeks or so, I was quite convinced that if anything I'd've put weight on this week. Especially when I realised that I've not been eating nearly so much veg as I should be eating. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "There's always next week, I'll try harder then! I've still got another six weeks to lose a dress size, no big deal."
Imagine, then, my surprise when the scales declared that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs!!
The llamas were chuffed. They're all ready to go with this week's fiesta, so without any further ado - hit it, lads!!
***AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIBAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!***
¯ La cucaracha, la cucaracha, dah dee dah de dah de dahh...! ¯
Whew! That was great, boys!! Just the job!
I was delighted with that result. I honestly didn't expect it. I thought my weeks of losing big numbers of lbs were long gone, and that it'd be a slow and boring, pleasure-free road to box off my last three stone, half a pound here, a pound there... I thought it'd take me The Rest Of My Rotten Stinkin' Life to do it. But now - now there is hope! Now there is a little bright, cheery spark in my heart that says, "Come on, Spevvo, you can do this!! You're probably not really too far now and you'll be legitimately skinny rather than just relatively skinny in comparison to your former spherical physique!"
I mean I have to do it and I have to do it soon. The time left is reduced. I've done all right so far, like, and aside from just not stressing about things and following the plan as best as I can, I'm not 100% sure what else I can do. More fruit, more veg, I don't know if I've ever recommended green tea and a slice of lemon, but trust me, it works. It's an acquired taste but it's a taste well worth acquiring. It'll all come off eventually. I'll soon be svelte. I'll achieve voluptuous rather than rotund. I'll wiggle in all the right places. This will happen. Because if it doesn't, I think I'll cry. Which won't be a remotely helpful reaction and it won't even make me feel better about it but it's the one thing slightly more positive than jumping off a tall building.
The thing that cheered me up the most was that finally, Andrea the Consultant told me that I was really doing well. She said "You're disappearing before my very eyes! You must feel great!!" I genuinely didn't think she'd noticed. A couple of the ladies in group have come up to me and been like "Good grief, you can really tell you've lost weight, you're looking good!" which is really nice, but it was great to finally get a bit of a high five from the lady in charge. She's never been discouraging or dismissive, I'd like to make that clear, but I just genuinely didn't think she'd noticed, and that because she hadn't said anything I mustn't actually look like I've lost any weight. Which obviously is a stupidly warped thought process, I mean for chuff's sake I've lost 60lbs now, I must literally be the only person on earth who hasn't really noticed the difference in me!! In fairness, I avoid reflective surfaces like the plague and whenever I look down at myself all I can see are my bosoms and my hair so I suppose the fact they're still very much there isn't too much of an indicator about how well I've actually done.
So, I went home and had a yummy Slimming World tea of sirloin steak, new potatoes, and fried mushrooms and tomatoes. It was fabulous. My sister is officially the best cook in the world.
This weekend I'm going to a party on Saturday, which will be great. I'm still on the wagon and I'm the designated driver so I'm going to have to do the Being Sober While Meeting New People thing, which is a little worrying, but the people I do know who are going are fabulous so I'm sure it'll all be great. The only problem is that nowadays I only have clothes for work and clothes for the Kingdom Hall. I have no other items of clothing, and as I'm an anti-social sod, I definitely have no party clothes. I'll probably end up going and looking really overdressed. But at least I won't be scruffy!!
Join me sometime next week. Definitely on Friday, when hopefully I'll be even closer to my 4 1/2 stone shiny sticker!!
Friday, 7 September 2012
Sleeves Firmly Rolled Up
Normally, as you know, I get pretty narked when I put weight on after a week of being good.
However, this week, I've put half a pound on, and although the llamas haven't come out for a celebratory fiesta (although to be fair they had two fiestas last week so they could do with a break), I'm really not too worried about it.
This is good because I've taken into account that for the first couple of days since my last weigh in I was still a bit wobbly on the diet before getting back on it properly on Monday so I haven't really had a week of being good, I've had about four days of being good. I've also taken into account the fact that I've drunk a lot more water this week, mostly due to the fact I've walked everywhere. I've walked about four miles a day over the last week, which doesn't seem like much but it's more than twice as far as I usually walk, so for me, it's loads, and I've probably developed a teensy tiny bit of muscle. Not to mention the fact I've worked full-time which always screws up my diet plans, and I more often than not end up skipping breakfast altogether, which isn't ideal, I know. But still, I know why I've put on, and that's less frustrating than being really good and still putting half a pound on. AND it means that I'm finally starting to get a bit of perspective on weight loss, realising that it can't always be a constant thing and just because I put a bit on, it doesn't mean that I'm a bad person or a failure. Which is quite a revelation.
However, at the same time, it's also a bit scary because not being too worried about a weight gain can make you complacent. And I'm not skinny enough to get complacent!
Andrea The Consultant gave us all the New Members' talk again. It's not just been me that's been a bit screw-uppy, everyone's gone a bit off the boil. It's apparently only 16 weigh-ins till Christmas, which doesn't worry me too much because obviously I don't celebrate Christmas and I've no plans around that time anyway other than to eat my own body weight in chocolate and to drink enough alcohol to make Georgie Best, Oliver Reed, Keith Moon and Robert Newton all applaud my stalwart efforts.
But it's only seven weigh-ins until the Michael Nesmith gig, and that does worry me. Even though it shouldn't, really. I know if anyone said to me this time last year I'd be able to wear a size 18 dress to go and see Michael Nesmith in concert, I'd have laughed at the implausibility of both suggestions. So, really, in that sort of context, even if I don't lose another dress size between now and then, I'm still ridiculously thinner than I was this time last year - AND I'll get to fulfill a lifelong ambition and actually be in the same room at the same time as my favourite Monkee. I mean, it's all good. Even if I put four stone on between now and then, the fact I'll be there is incredible enough in itself. Not that I will, of course. I've come much too far now to go back to how I used to be.
But now I'm here, two or three dress sizes to go until I get to target (I probably won't reach that decision until I've lost the next two dress sizes!), and it somehow still doesn't feel like I've done nearly enough. I know it isn't a race. I'm not trying to be thin for an event or because someone else is losing X amount of stones and I want to beat them to it. I'm losing weight because I don't want to spend the rest of my life not doing things because I'm too fat to do them. And if it takes me a year to do it or it takes me 18 months to do it - fine, so long as I do it eventually.
But I still want to get it over and done with as quickly as I can so I can make a start on maintaining it!!
It isn't an impossible ask to drop a dress size in 7 weeks. In fact, it's quite reasonable. I know I can do it. So I'd best get on with it, really, hadn't I?! I've not got time to mope - I've got lbs to shed!
Join me again at some juncture next week when I may have some sort of an update for you. But if not I shall update again on Friday when hopefully, fingers crossed, after a whole week of being good I'll finally have a result worthy of a fiesta from the llamas!!
However, this week, I've put half a pound on, and although the llamas haven't come out for a celebratory fiesta (although to be fair they had two fiestas last week so they could do with a break), I'm really not too worried about it.
This is good because I've taken into account that for the first couple of days since my last weigh in I was still a bit wobbly on the diet before getting back on it properly on Monday so I haven't really had a week of being good, I've had about four days of being good. I've also taken into account the fact that I've drunk a lot more water this week, mostly due to the fact I've walked everywhere. I've walked about four miles a day over the last week, which doesn't seem like much but it's more than twice as far as I usually walk, so for me, it's loads, and I've probably developed a teensy tiny bit of muscle. Not to mention the fact I've worked full-time which always screws up my diet plans, and I more often than not end up skipping breakfast altogether, which isn't ideal, I know. But still, I know why I've put on, and that's less frustrating than being really good and still putting half a pound on. AND it means that I'm finally starting to get a bit of perspective on weight loss, realising that it can't always be a constant thing and just because I put a bit on, it doesn't mean that I'm a bad person or a failure. Which is quite a revelation.
However, at the same time, it's also a bit scary because not being too worried about a weight gain can make you complacent. And I'm not skinny enough to get complacent!
Andrea The Consultant gave us all the New Members' talk again. It's not just been me that's been a bit screw-uppy, everyone's gone a bit off the boil. It's apparently only 16 weigh-ins till Christmas, which doesn't worry me too much because obviously I don't celebrate Christmas and I've no plans around that time anyway other than to eat my own body weight in chocolate and to drink enough alcohol to make Georgie Best, Oliver Reed, Keith Moon and Robert Newton all applaud my stalwart efforts.
But it's only seven weigh-ins until the Michael Nesmith gig, and that does worry me. Even though it shouldn't, really. I know if anyone said to me this time last year I'd be able to wear a size 18 dress to go and see Michael Nesmith in concert, I'd have laughed at the implausibility of both suggestions. So, really, in that sort of context, even if I don't lose another dress size between now and then, I'm still ridiculously thinner than I was this time last year - AND I'll get to fulfill a lifelong ambition and actually be in the same room at the same time as my favourite Monkee. I mean, it's all good. Even if I put four stone on between now and then, the fact I'll be there is incredible enough in itself. Not that I will, of course. I've come much too far now to go back to how I used to be.
But now I'm here, two or three dress sizes to go until I get to target (I probably won't reach that decision until I've lost the next two dress sizes!), and it somehow still doesn't feel like I've done nearly enough. I know it isn't a race. I'm not trying to be thin for an event or because someone else is losing X amount of stones and I want to beat them to it. I'm losing weight because I don't want to spend the rest of my life not doing things because I'm too fat to do them. And if it takes me a year to do it or it takes me 18 months to do it - fine, so long as I do it eventually.
But I still want to get it over and done with as quickly as I can so I can make a start on maintaining it!!
It isn't an impossible ask to drop a dress size in 7 weeks. In fact, it's quite reasonable. I know I can do it. So I'd best get on with it, really, hadn't I?! I've not got time to mope - I've got lbs to shed!
Join me again at some juncture next week when I may have some sort of an update for you. But if not I shall update again on Friday when hopefully, fingers crossed, after a whole week of being good I'll finally have a result worthy of a fiesta from the llamas!!
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!!
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
24 Toasters from Scunthorpe
Prizes will be handed out to anyone who gets the reference in today's blog title. Answers to the usual address.
It's Wednesday. Just over 24 hours to go and I'll be hopping back on those scales for the first time in three weeks.
I. Am. Terrified.
What if I've thought I've been doing the right things for the last week or two and actually I haven't and I've put a couple of stone on? Actually, is that biologically possible? Even if it isn't I bet I probably still would!!
When you do something unpleasant on a regular basis, the pleasantness doesn't improve, because it's always a horrible thing to do, but the discomfort does subside a little because you're used to it. I can't really think of anything nearly as unpleasant to willingly put oneself through aside from going to work every day. You have to do it because otherwise you starve, it isn't pleasant but you go anyway, and then you usually find it isn't quite so hellish when you get there. Unless you work for the NHS. Fabulous institution, Britain's best idea by miles - absolutely terrible employer.
I'm going off-topic.
My point is, I avoided scales like the plague until January, and then I've subsequently I've hopped on a pair every week for the last 26 weeks or so. I never liked getting on the scales but it had become a slightly less scary prospect. After 20 days away from the scales, half of which were spent mostly in blissful varying stages of inebriation - I have roughly the same desire to get back on the scales as a Death Row convict has when offered a seat a large chair near an electric switch.
But it's one of those things, isn't it? I've got to do it otherwise I'll just slip back into the old routine, and I really don't want that. I've come much too far now. Or at least I think I have. Who knows.
What if the worst happens? What if I do get on the scales tomorrow and even though I've reined it back in SO much over the last ten days I've still put weight on? Am I going to give up? Go back to how things used to be? Think "I'll never get there" and cry for an hour? Probably. But then after I've cried for an hour I'll have a stern talk to myself, stop being weak and pathetic and get the hell back on it again. Marathon. Not a sprint. I will get there. Whether that happens this year or next year. I gave myself 18 months to do this, and on June 3rd 2013 I will look completely different to how I looked on January 1st 2012. I will. I'll even post pictures to prove it.
Maybe!
Join me on Friday. I will have got back on the scales and I'll know exactly what I'm working with. The llamas are going to have a fiesta anyway because it's the Olympics and Ricardo has decided to try and campaign for 'fiesta-ing' to be an Olympic sport. He's even designed Team GB's legwarmers for the Rio Olympics...
It's Wednesday. Just over 24 hours to go and I'll be hopping back on those scales for the first time in three weeks.
I. Am. Terrified.
What if I've thought I've been doing the right things for the last week or two and actually I haven't and I've put a couple of stone on? Actually, is that biologically possible? Even if it isn't I bet I probably still would!!
When you do something unpleasant on a regular basis, the pleasantness doesn't improve, because it's always a horrible thing to do, but the discomfort does subside a little because you're used to it. I can't really think of anything nearly as unpleasant to willingly put oneself through aside from going to work every day. You have to do it because otherwise you starve, it isn't pleasant but you go anyway, and then you usually find it isn't quite so hellish when you get there. Unless you work for the NHS. Fabulous institution, Britain's best idea by miles - absolutely terrible employer.
I'm going off-topic.
My point is, I avoided scales like the plague until January, and then I've subsequently I've hopped on a pair every week for the last 26 weeks or so. I never liked getting on the scales but it had become a slightly less scary prospect. After 20 days away from the scales, half of which were spent mostly in blissful varying stages of inebriation - I have roughly the same desire to get back on the scales as a Death Row convict has when offered a seat a large chair near an electric switch.
But it's one of those things, isn't it? I've got to do it otherwise I'll just slip back into the old routine, and I really don't want that. I've come much too far now. Or at least I think I have. Who knows.
What if the worst happens? What if I do get on the scales tomorrow and even though I've reined it back in SO much over the last ten days I've still put weight on? Am I going to give up? Go back to how things used to be? Think "I'll never get there" and cry for an hour? Probably. But then after I've cried for an hour I'll have a stern talk to myself, stop being weak and pathetic and get the hell back on it again. Marathon. Not a sprint. I will get there. Whether that happens this year or next year. I gave myself 18 months to do this, and on June 3rd 2013 I will look completely different to how I looked on January 1st 2012. I will. I'll even post pictures to prove it.
Maybe!
Join me on Friday. I will have got back on the scales and I'll know exactly what I'm working with. The llamas are going to have a fiesta anyway because it's the Olympics and Ricardo has decided to try and campaign for 'fiesta-ing' to be an Olympic sport. He's even designed Team GB's legwarmers for the Rio Olympics...
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...!!
Monday, 25 June 2012
Rainy Days and Mondays...
I'd like to dedicate today's blog title to my cousin Angela in honour of the best karaoke story ever!
I had a really weird dream last night that Adam and I went to see Michael Nesmith but Manchester had been taken over by zombies and we were trapped in a taxi with a zombie taxi driver. It was scary. I have no idea where it came from either, I am not a fan of the zombie on any level, and have never watched anything involving said mythical baddie ever in my life. Except an epsiode of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. called 'The Very Important Zombie Affair' and an episode of Gilligan's Island called 'Voodoo'. But in each case the zombie situation wasn't particularly threatening, least of all from Professor Roy Hinkley.
In fairness, I get that sort of 'undead' vibe from Manchester every time I visit the place.
And I have to say, he may unquestionably be very close to the top of my Favourite People in Existence list and he is an artistic, literary and musical Peter Perfect - but Mr Leslie screams like a girl when confronted by a zombie asking him for his taxi fare. Just sayin'.
Tell you what though, if any zombies even attempt to ruin my night seeing Nesmith, they'll be messing with the wrong girl...
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. Manchester. *shudder* Let's get out of there.
I can't say the weekend has been particularly interesting. The rain was so bad on Friday (as previously documented) that I had to postpone Zara and Nicky coming to visit as Leyland was absolutely flooded, so Saturday went from being potentially the most exciting day of the year so far to being spent doing housework and glaring disapprovingly at the rain every time I looked out the window.
In the end I gave up and watched the Bourne Trilogy. I do love the Bourne films. I'm not a fan of Matt Damon, particularly - but I do love the films. They're all very exciting and there's hardly any dialogue to screw up, but there's loads of Jason Bourne looking all tortured and then going off killing people with biros and stuff - and the car chase in The Bourne Supremacy is possibly the best one in cinematic history. I can't wait till The Bourne Legacy comes out, it'll be more of the same (hey, if it ain't broke etc!) but with Jeremy Renner AND Edward Norton on the screen at the same time!! Eeep!! I'm far more excited about that than the Spider-Man and Batman films put together. Which sounds terrible coming from a huge fan of both Spider-Man and Batman, but there you go. Don't get me started on my trepidation for the new Spider-Man film. There's only one Peter Parker/Spider-Man and that's Tobey Maguire.
I know, I had a similar feeling about the Edward Norton/Mark Ruffalo/Hulk/Bruce Banner issue, and I was proved completely wrong there - but Spider-Man is my all-time favourite superhero and it genuinely didn't feel like Tobey Maguire ever needed to act that role. He just was Peter/Spidey. Say what you like about the Sam Raimi films, but they were all very special to me (especially Spider-Man 2) and it's going to take something spectacular to win me over. Judging by the reviews so far, I'm not going to build my hopes up.
2012 - it's an interesting year for cinema and no mistake!
I did overdo the Synnage on Friday - but I had spent the entire day being rained on and thought a couple of chuff-off brandies would have a medicinal benefit and stop me catching pneumonia. So far, so good - I've not even had a sniffle yet. So there must be something in it... I've been very good on the diet front since Friday, though. I've had a will of iron. I will lose that half-pound this week if it flippin' kills me!!!
I might have some exciting news on Wednesday. Why don't you join me then and find out?
I had a really weird dream last night that Adam and I went to see Michael Nesmith but Manchester had been taken over by zombies and we were trapped in a taxi with a zombie taxi driver. It was scary. I have no idea where it came from either, I am not a fan of the zombie on any level, and have never watched anything involving said mythical baddie ever in my life. Except an epsiode of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. called 'The Very Important Zombie Affair' and an episode of Gilligan's Island called 'Voodoo'. But in each case the zombie situation wasn't particularly threatening, least of all from Professor Roy Hinkley.
In fairness, I get that sort of 'undead' vibe from Manchester every time I visit the place.
And I have to say, he may unquestionably be very close to the top of my Favourite People in Existence list and he is an artistic, literary and musical Peter Perfect - but Mr Leslie screams like a girl when confronted by a zombie asking him for his taxi fare. Just sayin'.
Tell you what though, if any zombies even attempt to ruin my night seeing Nesmith, they'll be messing with the wrong girl...
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. Manchester. *shudder* Let's get out of there.
I can't say the weekend has been particularly interesting. The rain was so bad on Friday (as previously documented) that I had to postpone Zara and Nicky coming to visit as Leyland was absolutely flooded, so Saturday went from being potentially the most exciting day of the year so far to being spent doing housework and glaring disapprovingly at the rain every time I looked out the window.
In the end I gave up and watched the Bourne Trilogy. I do love the Bourne films. I'm not a fan of Matt Damon, particularly - but I do love the films. They're all very exciting and there's hardly any dialogue to screw up, but there's loads of Jason Bourne looking all tortured and then going off killing people with biros and stuff - and the car chase in The Bourne Supremacy is possibly the best one in cinematic history. I can't wait till The Bourne Legacy comes out, it'll be more of the same (hey, if it ain't broke etc!) but with Jeremy Renner AND Edward Norton on the screen at the same time!! Eeep!! I'm far more excited about that than the Spider-Man and Batman films put together. Which sounds terrible coming from a huge fan of both Spider-Man and Batman, but there you go. Don't get me started on my trepidation for the new Spider-Man film. There's only one Peter Parker/Spider-Man and that's Tobey Maguire.
I know, I had a similar feeling about the Edward Norton/Mark Ruffalo/Hulk/Bruce Banner issue, and I was proved completely wrong there - but Spider-Man is my all-time favourite superhero and it genuinely didn't feel like Tobey Maguire ever needed to act that role. He just was Peter/Spidey. Say what you like about the Sam Raimi films, but they were all very special to me (especially Spider-Man 2) and it's going to take something spectacular to win me over. Judging by the reviews so far, I'm not going to build my hopes up.
2012 - it's an interesting year for cinema and no mistake!
I did overdo the Synnage on Friday - but I had spent the entire day being rained on and thought a couple of chuff-off brandies would have a medicinal benefit and stop me catching pneumonia. So far, so good - I've not even had a sniffle yet. So there must be something in it... I've been very good on the diet front since Friday, though. I've had a will of iron. I will lose that half-pound this week if it flippin' kills me!!!
I might have some exciting news on Wednesday. Why don't you join me then and find out?
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!!
Friday, 15 June 2012
Keep On Keeping On
There is a double celebration of fiesta-ing today in the Diary, and a good job too. The llamas have had three weeks off and Enrique has started panicking that if they have any more time off, their muscles will all seize up and they'll never be able to do those high-kicks again.
To mark the glorious occasion, they've decided on a very spectacular stunt. Miguel has bravely offered to be a llama cannonball!! Ricardo has designed a lovely red sparkly cape for the occasion. It'll be the finale sequence to the fiesta and I'm sure it'll be a breathtaking sight!
The first reason I'm celebrating is, after a week off and not really following the diet strictly at all - it turns out I've lost a whopping FOUR POUNDS!!! I'm now just 1 1/2 lbs off having lost 3 1/2 stone!! For those still keeping track, I've lost 47 1/2 lbs in 23 weeks. Which is still quite good going.
*AAARRRRIIIIBBAAAAAA!!!!!!*
The second reason for celebration is that I have actually managed to get tickets to see Michael Nesmith - after a very dramatic turn of events this morning. It nearly didn't happen at all - but eventually I got two seats. They're back row, I grant you, and when I had the possibilty of seats in the third row at first, it does sting somwhat, but there are only 12 rows in total, the venue only seats 460, and I think the hall is laid out in such a way that there's really no such thing as a bad seat. I mightn't get to see every whisker on his face but I'll certainly know it's the right fella.
WOOOOOOOHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
*dances round like a mad eejit*
133 sleeps, apparently. According to my calculations, there were 136 but I'm reliably informed there are only 133. This is very exciting news. I just hope by then I'll be as close as possible to my target size. I've got four and a half months to lose three dress sizes. I think I can do it. I hope so. Even two would be great!!
Anyway, back to Slimming World. My mum joined last night!! This is great news. Partly because I get in next week free for introducing someone. I really hope she makes a good job of it. She only wants to lose the same amount I've already lost. And I've managed it so she can definitely do it. Hell's teeth, she's had five kids, losing a bit of weight isn't going to cause any problems!!! Apparently Andrea the Consultant kept telling mum (and the other newbies) to listen to what I told her because I'm doing so well. How embarrassing!!! I wish Mum hadn't told me, I'm not a fan of all this attention.
I'm so excited I really don't have the brain to type any more. Let's see The Llama Cannonball in action for the big finale to end this very exciting and hysterical blog!!
.............
.....................................
...................................................................................
*wince*
Ricardo, you really ought to check that you're not firing that thing off anywhere near a wall....
*sigh* We're a llama down, ladies and gentlemen, but don't worry, it isn't fatal - he just needs a good rest and he'll be right as rain soon.
Join me next week, when hopefully I'll have calmed down slightly, and I'll give you an update on Miguel's progress. Hooves crossed he's well on the mend by then!!
To mark the glorious occasion, they've decided on a very spectacular stunt. Miguel has bravely offered to be a llama cannonball!! Ricardo has designed a lovely red sparkly cape for the occasion. It'll be the finale sequence to the fiesta and I'm sure it'll be a breathtaking sight!
The first reason I'm celebrating is, after a week off and not really following the diet strictly at all - it turns out I've lost a whopping FOUR POUNDS!!! I'm now just 1 1/2 lbs off having lost 3 1/2 stone!! For those still keeping track, I've lost 47 1/2 lbs in 23 weeks. Which is still quite good going.
*AAARRRRIIIIBBAAAAAA!!!!!!*
The second reason for celebration is that I have actually managed to get tickets to see Michael Nesmith - after a very dramatic turn of events this morning. It nearly didn't happen at all - but eventually I got two seats. They're back row, I grant you, and when I had the possibilty of seats in the third row at first, it does sting somwhat, but there are only 12 rows in total, the venue only seats 460, and I think the hall is laid out in such a way that there's really no such thing as a bad seat. I mightn't get to see every whisker on his face but I'll certainly know it's the right fella.
WOOOOOOOHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
*dances round like a mad eejit*
133 sleeps, apparently. According to my calculations, there were 136 but I'm reliably informed there are only 133. This is very exciting news. I just hope by then I'll be as close as possible to my target size. I've got four and a half months to lose three dress sizes. I think I can do it. I hope so. Even two would be great!!
Anyway, back to Slimming World. My mum joined last night!! This is great news. Partly because I get in next week free for introducing someone. I really hope she makes a good job of it. She only wants to lose the same amount I've already lost. And I've managed it so she can definitely do it. Hell's teeth, she's had five kids, losing a bit of weight isn't going to cause any problems!!! Apparently Andrea the Consultant kept telling mum (and the other newbies) to listen to what I told her because I'm doing so well. How embarrassing!!! I wish Mum hadn't told me, I'm not a fan of all this attention.
I'm so excited I really don't have the brain to type any more. Let's see The Llama Cannonball in action for the big finale to end this very exciting and hysterical blog!!
.............
.....................................
...................................................................................
*wince*
Ricardo, you really ought to check that you're not firing that thing off anywhere near a wall....
*sigh* We're a llama down, ladies and gentlemen, but don't worry, it isn't fatal - he just needs a good rest and he'll be right as rain soon.
Join me next week, when hopefully I'll have calmed down slightly, and I'll give you an update on Miguel's progress. Hooves crossed he's well on the mend by then!!
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
The Blog Entry With No Name
It's all right, I didn't kill myself on Sunday as envisaged. I hit the 29 mark, I survived, I made it through, I'm going to continue with living for a little while longer. After all, I've lost three stone, it'd be a shame to waste it. I'll just have to be old and deal with it like normal people.
To combat the ageing blues, I've started a new (not 'new', exactly, more 'revisited' as I've loved this actor for years anyway) and more than likely short-lived cinematic obsession, it'll probably only last a few weeks. I can't even remember how many Stewart Granger films I've watched over the last three days. At least six. I've had a jolly good time doing it, too!! Did you know - and I certainly didn't, but I love him even more now I do know - his real name is James Stewart, but he had to change his name (he chose a mixture of his surname and his mum's maiden name) to stop him being mixed up with... well... James Stewart, aka my absolute favourite actor of all time! I mean, there is a resemblence, I suppose, they're both tall and a bit gormless-looking!! Good ol' Granger - he's like the David Bowie of cinema, but without heterochromia!! Scaramouche. Get it watched. It's a classic.
I went to a party on Friday night and I wore a dress that I bought from a high street shop. That's right. I walked into Dorothy Perkins. I saw a red dress (it's a constant source of disappointment to my Dad that, although I've been raised a true Evertonian, I love wearing red!). I thought "Oooh, that's pretty!" I saw it was very reasonably priced. I bought it. I tried it on. IT. FITTED. PERFECTLY. Seriously. It's such an achievement I really can't describe how chuffed I was. I might've still looked a mess, but at least I know that I can buy nice clothes on the high street now. I still have a long way to go, I know I do - but it was such a great feeling to go out in public wearing clothing that wasn't from the plus-size range!!
However, having said all that - I've decided to have a week off the diet. Not a going mad and turning into Miss Pacman type week off, but just a week off. It all started on Saturday. My lovely friend Clayre-Louyse and her husband, Adam, have moved near me. This is brilliant. Clayre and I have been friends for about eight years but we've always lived miles and miles away from each other - now she lives a ten minute walk away!! Hooraaayyy!! Anyway, I'd been in work all morning, then gone grocery shopping straight from work and by the time I got to Clayre's at half three, I hadn't eaten anything. I brought her a packet of biscuits (they always help with unpacking), really nice chocolatey ones, and she offered me one with my brew. Normally I'd've said no and been strong, but I hadn't eaten anything all day and I hadn't had a biscuit all year, so I accepted. I instantly thought "Gah, that's it now..." and decided to have a day off. In fact, I had a monumental day off. I went to the pub with my sister, had burger and chips and a pint of beer, followed by a chocolate ice-cream sundae, which had huge chunks of brownies in - and the brownies were still warm!! Oh my goodness! It was indescribably incredible!!
I really haven't had a huge day off like that yet, so I didn't feel too bad. But bank holidays are funny things, and I haven't been able to reign it back in as normal. I've not been spectacularly naughty, I've just not been nearly so strict with myself. So I'm not going to weigh-in tomorrow. A week off won't kill me. I'm still going to get there eventually. It feels like I've taken a bit of pressure off myself, which has to be a good thing. I'll get back on it properly and with a vengeance in the next day or so, I promise. I'm even strongly toying with the idea of joining a gym. Yes, you read that right. A gym. Cross-trainers, rowing machines, all that type of thing. A real live gym!
For those of you who are huge fans of the llamas - fear not! They will be out in fine style on Friday anyway, dancing away like things possessed, as I will be dedicating Friday's blog to a review of Nathan's album, which I received on Saturday morning. I'll tell you all about it then!!
To combat the ageing blues, I've started a new (not 'new', exactly, more 'revisited' as I've loved this actor for years anyway) and more than likely short-lived cinematic obsession, it'll probably only last a few weeks. I can't even remember how many Stewart Granger films I've watched over the last three days. At least six. I've had a jolly good time doing it, too!! Did you know - and I certainly didn't, but I love him even more now I do know - his real name is James Stewart, but he had to change his name (he chose a mixture of his surname and his mum's maiden name) to stop him being mixed up with... well... James Stewart, aka my absolute favourite actor of all time! I mean, there is a resemblence, I suppose, they're both tall and a bit gormless-looking!! Good ol' Granger - he's like the David Bowie of cinema, but without heterochromia!! Scaramouche. Get it watched. It's a classic.
I went to a party on Friday night and I wore a dress that I bought from a high street shop. That's right. I walked into Dorothy Perkins. I saw a red dress (it's a constant source of disappointment to my Dad that, although I've been raised a true Evertonian, I love wearing red!). I thought "Oooh, that's pretty!" I saw it was very reasonably priced. I bought it. I tried it on. IT. FITTED. PERFECTLY. Seriously. It's such an achievement I really can't describe how chuffed I was. I might've still looked a mess, but at least I know that I can buy nice clothes on the high street now. I still have a long way to go, I know I do - but it was such a great feeling to go out in public wearing clothing that wasn't from the plus-size range!!
However, having said all that - I've decided to have a week off the diet. Not a going mad and turning into Miss Pacman type week off, but just a week off. It all started on Saturday. My lovely friend Clayre-Louyse and her husband, Adam, have moved near me. This is brilliant. Clayre and I have been friends for about eight years but we've always lived miles and miles away from each other - now she lives a ten minute walk away!! Hooraaayyy!! Anyway, I'd been in work all morning, then gone grocery shopping straight from work and by the time I got to Clayre's at half three, I hadn't eaten anything. I brought her a packet of biscuits (they always help with unpacking), really nice chocolatey ones, and she offered me one with my brew. Normally I'd've said no and been strong, but I hadn't eaten anything all day and I hadn't had a biscuit all year, so I accepted. I instantly thought "Gah, that's it now..." and decided to have a day off. In fact, I had a monumental day off. I went to the pub with my sister, had burger and chips and a pint of beer, followed by a chocolate ice-cream sundae, which had huge chunks of brownies in - and the brownies were still warm!! Oh my goodness! It was indescribably incredible!!
I really haven't had a huge day off like that yet, so I didn't feel too bad. But bank holidays are funny things, and I haven't been able to reign it back in as normal. I've not been spectacularly naughty, I've just not been nearly so strict with myself. So I'm not going to weigh-in tomorrow. A week off won't kill me. I'm still going to get there eventually. It feels like I've taken a bit of pressure off myself, which has to be a good thing. I'll get back on it properly and with a vengeance in the next day or so, I promise. I'm even strongly toying with the idea of joining a gym. Yes, you read that right. A gym. Cross-trainers, rowing machines, all that type of thing. A real live gym!
For those of you who are huge fans of the llamas - fear not! They will be out in fine style on Friday anyway, dancing away like things possessed, as I will be dedicating Friday's blog to a review of Nathan's album, which I received on Saturday morning. I'll tell you all about it then!!
Monday, 28 May 2012
We're Havin' A Heatwave...
...a tropical heatwaaaave... the temperature's risin', it isn't surprisin', I certainly caaaannn...
Ahem.
Sorry. But this weather's making everything seem a bit weird. Good GRIEF it's warm. I mean, 28 degrees Celsius before noon is just ridiculous. And no, I have no idea what that is in Farenheit!!
I'm sorry for my lack of postings. It's been one of those weeks. It's been too hot for anything and my brain really doesn't function too well in hot weather. I am, after all, English. I'm not used to May being hot. It isn't meant to get hot until mid-June for about five days, then constant rain until mid-July, then miserable but hot weather with no air for three or four weeks, then more rain... then a sort of picking up again in September, before a rather nippy Autumn and a bloomin' freezing winter. This is how Britain works, weather! Get it right!!
So, anyway, weather aside, I got a little closer to my halfway mark this week by losing 2lbs. This was a lovely result and I was really pleased with it, but due to the weather it would've simply been cruel of me to ask the llamas to put on a fiesta in celebration. So I sent them to the local swimming pool armed with armbands, goggles and matching towels for a bit of a frolic and a cool down. Enrique convinced himself that he came back home with verrucas and athletes hoof, but after a (very brief) examination his hooves all seem fine. Ricardo made friends with the lifeguard on duty who had never heard of a dancing troupe of llamas before. Miguel discovered aqua-aerobics. Everyone had a lovely time. I stayed in (I can't swim and nobody will ever see me in a swimming costume, ever, not even when I get to a size 14! Just because I'm not fat still doesn't mean anyone wants to see any more of me than is absolutely necessary and unavoidable!) and had a celebratory brandy or two. It might've even ben three. Yes, I think it was. So, everyone really was happy!
I probably won't hit my halfway target by this Thursday, but that's no big deal really. It's officially too hot to care about stuff like that! I should get closer to it, though, and that's the main thing.
I wore a dress on Sunday. I admit it probably wasn't the most fashionable thing out there, but the main thing was it wasn't that godawful black maxi dress I'd worn for months when I had need to wear a dress. It was my mum's, and before you start rolling your eyes, I'd coveted it for quite some time, it's really nice. I tell you a really weird thing that I may never get used to. I actually felt really feminine. I mean I know I'm a girl (the bosoms are quite a giveaway), but being of the larger persuasion the only clothes really available to a person are ones that just cover you and make you look as unobtrusive as possible. In short, clothes have never made me feel anything other than a sexless blob of nothingness. But on Sunday I looked in the mirror and even though I probably still looked a fat scruffbag, I actually felt like a woman for the first time actually ever. With curves, as opposed to being one continual curve. It's a really peculiar feeling, but I liked it. Probably one I'll never get used to, but it's really helped me to feel even more focussed than ever about getting to the goal. It's totally going to happen. This time next year during an unprecedented heatwave I might even have summer clothes in my wardrobe to go to!! Who knows!!!
Join me again on... well, I'd say Wednesday. Hopefully Wednesday, but certainly later on in the week. Dunno what I'll talk about but I'll always find SOMEthing to ramble about!!
Ahem.
Sorry. But this weather's making everything seem a bit weird. Good GRIEF it's warm. I mean, 28 degrees Celsius before noon is just ridiculous. And no, I have no idea what that is in Farenheit!!
I'm sorry for my lack of postings. It's been one of those weeks. It's been too hot for anything and my brain really doesn't function too well in hot weather. I am, after all, English. I'm not used to May being hot. It isn't meant to get hot until mid-June for about five days, then constant rain until mid-July, then miserable but hot weather with no air for three or four weeks, then more rain... then a sort of picking up again in September, before a rather nippy Autumn and a bloomin' freezing winter. This is how Britain works, weather! Get it right!!
So, anyway, weather aside, I got a little closer to my halfway mark this week by losing 2lbs. This was a lovely result and I was really pleased with it, but due to the weather it would've simply been cruel of me to ask the llamas to put on a fiesta in celebration. So I sent them to the local swimming pool armed with armbands, goggles and matching towels for a bit of a frolic and a cool down. Enrique convinced himself that he came back home with verrucas and athletes hoof, but after a (very brief) examination his hooves all seem fine. Ricardo made friends with the lifeguard on duty who had never heard of a dancing troupe of llamas before. Miguel discovered aqua-aerobics. Everyone had a lovely time. I stayed in (I can't swim and nobody will ever see me in a swimming costume, ever, not even when I get to a size 14! Just because I'm not fat still doesn't mean anyone wants to see any more of me than is absolutely necessary and unavoidable!) and had a celebratory brandy or two. It might've even ben three. Yes, I think it was. So, everyone really was happy!
I probably won't hit my halfway target by this Thursday, but that's no big deal really. It's officially too hot to care about stuff like that! I should get closer to it, though, and that's the main thing.
I wore a dress on Sunday. I admit it probably wasn't the most fashionable thing out there, but the main thing was it wasn't that godawful black maxi dress I'd worn for months when I had need to wear a dress. It was my mum's, and before you start rolling your eyes, I'd coveted it for quite some time, it's really nice. I tell you a really weird thing that I may never get used to. I actually felt really feminine. I mean I know I'm a girl (the bosoms are quite a giveaway), but being of the larger persuasion the only clothes really available to a person are ones that just cover you and make you look as unobtrusive as possible. In short, clothes have never made me feel anything other than a sexless blob of nothingness. But on Sunday I looked in the mirror and even though I probably still looked a fat scruffbag, I actually felt like a woman for the first time actually ever. With curves, as opposed to being one continual curve. It's a really peculiar feeling, but I liked it. Probably one I'll never get used to, but it's really helped me to feel even more focussed than ever about getting to the goal. It's totally going to happen. This time next year during an unprecedented heatwave I might even have summer clothes in my wardrobe to go to!! Who knows!!!
Join me again on... well, I'd say Wednesday. Hopefully Wednesday, but certainly later on in the week. Dunno what I'll talk about but I'll always find SOMEthing to ramble about!!
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Continuing
Title © Robert Michael Nesmith, from the 1973 album Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash.
OOF!
It's been a hectic few days to say the least. I think I've driven around the world and back in the last 48 hours. I've been driving in my sleep! Not literally, folks - it's dangerous and definitely not recommended practice for anyone to try at home. Or even on the road.
You probably have heard me lament about the fact I don't have a car any more, but circumstances dictated the need for me to get one quick sharp yesterday. Apparently trying to squeeze 8 people into a 5-seater car is a bit too much to ask of any vehicle. So I hired a car for the day. It was gorgeous. Even before I closed the door and got my seat belt on, I was in love. I called him Stirling (yes, all my cars are boys, and yes, I name them all. What of it? I had a gay Kia Picanto called Buttercup once!), after Craig Stirling from The Champions. I'm in a bit of a Champions phase at the moment, and although I'm a Richard Barrett girl, Craig is pretty easy on the eye and a bit smooth - plus the fact the car was silver, so it sort of had to be Stirling. He suited it. I gave him back this morning. I nearly cried.
I think I've alluded to the fact something big has happened in the Wainwright family over the last couple of weeks but I haven't actually explained myself. However, to bring you all up to speed - my cousin, David, sadly passed away after a very short illness a couple of weeks ago. It came as a huge shock to the entire family. From what I understand, he was right as rain on the Saturday, felt a little poorly on Sunday, felt a little worse on Monday, was in the Critical Care Unit on Tuesday and died on the Friday. I mean - really. Shock. It was his funeral yesterday and two of my cousins came up from London for the event. It's always lovely to spend time with Gill and Angela, especially with the big sister too - we're all more than relatives, we're really good friends and we have such a great laugh together, it's just a shame the circumstances were so horrid this time.
I don't want to dwell on the day, although it was lovely to see so many family members, there's never anything nice about funerals and you don't really want to know the ins and outs of the day's events. However, there was a huge turnout for him - there were well over 100 people there, and even though we're a huge family (more than a family - a clan. Maybe even a country. Wainwrightia!), there were a lot of friends and former colleagues etc that turned up too.
I thought that was a really lovely testament to David's life. Everyone who ever came into contact with him during his life couldn't help but love him. He was a sweet, gentle soul, who adored his wife and his two gorgeous girls more than anything else. Some people come into this world and invent things, or develop ideas, or write something or draw something or create the most exquisite music or most thought-provoking, life-changing film that becomes timeless - but when those people die, people remember the things they achieved with great fondness, but remember the person with significant coolness, disdain or even hatred. David might not have re-invented the wheel or anything so grand as that, but he made people happier just for knowing him, and there's really no greater legacy any of us can leave than to have people say about us, "That person was one of the nicest people I ever knew," or "I'm really going to miss their smile/hugs/laugh." We'll all miss those things about David.
Incidentally, and now on another note entirely, my apologies for not posting on Monday. It had been a rather eventful weekend due to my sister's altercation with a bottle of hair dye - and although I was really looking forward to dramatising the whole sorry affair for you all, sadly I had about five trillion tapes to type up at work so that I could have yesterday off so I just didn't get time. But I'm back now, and please don't think my lack of posting on Monday was a lack of dedication to the blogging/dieting cause. Oh no. Far from it, my eyes are firmly fixed on the prize and I'm back on the straight and narrow with a vengeance. Admittedly, I did go slightly over my Syns limit on Saturday but I've been very good the rest of the time and have had far fewer Syns than the recommended 15 so I think it'll balance out. I might maintain this week or possibly even lose a tiny bit of weight. I'm hoping for 2lbs. Dunno if I'll get it but so long as I don't put any on it'll be all right!
Join me again on Friday, after The Big Weigh-In, when hopefully the llamas will have all come up with a lovely new dance routine for you all to join in with the dancing and shake your maracas while shimmying around the living room/office/kitchen/bedroom/wherever you read this from!!
In the immortal words of Bill & Ted - Be Excellent to Each Other.
OOF!
It's been a hectic few days to say the least. I think I've driven around the world and back in the last 48 hours. I've been driving in my sleep! Not literally, folks - it's dangerous and definitely not recommended practice for anyone to try at home. Or even on the road.
You probably have heard me lament about the fact I don't have a car any more, but circumstances dictated the need for me to get one quick sharp yesterday. Apparently trying to squeeze 8 people into a 5-seater car is a bit too much to ask of any vehicle. So I hired a car for the day. It was gorgeous. Even before I closed the door and got my seat belt on, I was in love. I called him Stirling (yes, all my cars are boys, and yes, I name them all. What of it? I had a gay Kia Picanto called Buttercup once!), after Craig Stirling from The Champions. I'm in a bit of a Champions phase at the moment, and although I'm a Richard Barrett girl, Craig is pretty easy on the eye and a bit smooth - plus the fact the car was silver, so it sort of had to be Stirling. He suited it. I gave him back this morning. I nearly cried.
I think I've alluded to the fact something big has happened in the Wainwright family over the last couple of weeks but I haven't actually explained myself. However, to bring you all up to speed - my cousin, David, sadly passed away after a very short illness a couple of weeks ago. It came as a huge shock to the entire family. From what I understand, he was right as rain on the Saturday, felt a little poorly on Sunday, felt a little worse on Monday, was in the Critical Care Unit on Tuesday and died on the Friday. I mean - really. Shock. It was his funeral yesterday and two of my cousins came up from London for the event. It's always lovely to spend time with Gill and Angela, especially with the big sister too - we're all more than relatives, we're really good friends and we have such a great laugh together, it's just a shame the circumstances were so horrid this time.
I don't want to dwell on the day, although it was lovely to see so many family members, there's never anything nice about funerals and you don't really want to know the ins and outs of the day's events. However, there was a huge turnout for him - there were well over 100 people there, and even though we're a huge family (more than a family - a clan. Maybe even a country. Wainwrightia!), there were a lot of friends and former colleagues etc that turned up too.
I thought that was a really lovely testament to David's life. Everyone who ever came into contact with him during his life couldn't help but love him. He was a sweet, gentle soul, who adored his wife and his two gorgeous girls more than anything else. Some people come into this world and invent things, or develop ideas, or write something or draw something or create the most exquisite music or most thought-provoking, life-changing film that becomes timeless - but when those people die, people remember the things they achieved with great fondness, but remember the person with significant coolness, disdain or even hatred. David might not have re-invented the wheel or anything so grand as that, but he made people happier just for knowing him, and there's really no greater legacy any of us can leave than to have people say about us, "That person was one of the nicest people I ever knew," or "I'm really going to miss their smile/hugs/laugh." We'll all miss those things about David.
Incidentally, and now on another note entirely, my apologies for not posting on Monday. It had been a rather eventful weekend due to my sister's altercation with a bottle of hair dye - and although I was really looking forward to dramatising the whole sorry affair for you all, sadly I had about five trillion tapes to type up at work so that I could have yesterday off so I just didn't get time. But I'm back now, and please don't think my lack of posting on Monday was a lack of dedication to the blogging/dieting cause. Oh no. Far from it, my eyes are firmly fixed on the prize and I'm back on the straight and narrow with a vengeance. Admittedly, I did go slightly over my Syns limit on Saturday but I've been very good the rest of the time and have had far fewer Syns than the recommended 15 so I think it'll balance out. I might maintain this week or possibly even lose a tiny bit of weight. I'm hoping for 2lbs. Dunno if I'll get it but so long as I don't put any on it'll be all right!
Join me again on Friday, after The Big Weigh-In, when hopefully the llamas will have all come up with a lovely new dance routine for you all to join in with the dancing and shake your maracas while shimmying around the living room/office/kitchen/bedroom/wherever you read this from!!
In the immortal words of Bill & Ted - Be Excellent to Each Other.
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!
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