Tag Archives: weight

The pressure of 1 January

I think my calendar is wrong.

It says today is 1 January 2017, but nothing monumental has happened to me, so I think there may be a mistake.

You see, I’m just as irritable and anxious as on 31 December 2016.

I’m still eating chocolate like there’s no tomorrow, despite being on Weight Watchers (well to be fair, people are tying me down and stuffing Lindt balls down my throat!).

I am still terrible with my money and feeling ill that I work so hard and can never seem to be able to afford anything.

The finance fairy has also forgotten to stop by and pay off my credit card debt.

My bottom is still big and wobbly. My fadoobadahs (upper arms) are also still wobbly and I can’t see any definition anywhere on my body.

I still have some wrinkles and grey hair.

My children are still a little bit annoying.

I’m still nagging.

And my hormones are acting like a bunch of bees in a jar after you shake them up.

So, what’s the deal, eh? It’s the New Year, peoples! Where is the sudden turnaround?

This “New Year, New You”hoohah is a lot of hogwash!

Bring on 2018.

 

 

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I’ll show you how bad I can be!

Well, I’ve almost finished my Michelle Bridges 12WBT program (it’s now Week 10).

And I’ve flunked. Failed. Fallen off the wagon. Wasted my time. Wasted her time.

I am definitely fitter and have regained a love of exercise, but my weight has not budged much. And today when I weighed myself I had PUT ON weight.

And there is no mystery to it, my loyal and loving readers. I eat too much. Since about Week 4 when I fell ill, I have been following her food plan – and then some!

And that’s all it took to fall off the wagon and not get back on. I was sick for a few days, felt miserable and reached for food. And it got its greedy hooks back in to me.

And I was doing so well! Truly! I could see myself in lovely clothes, feeling happy and healthy.

I could see my goals so clearly and I felt like I was working steadily towards them. Until I wasn’t.

I am the demon child of the 12WBT program.

For example, today I started to count calories again to try and get back on track after Easter.

I did OK until lunchtime when the chocolate was calling my name.

But I still kept track of the calories and once they reached my limit of 1500, something clicked. And I got angry (at myself and the calorie content of a Lindt chocolate bunny).

I was mad. And what do people who are trying to lose weight but know they are doing the wrong thing do when they are mad?

I ate MORE! And dammit, I ate for Australia. I ate for all of you who are trying not to overeat.

stubborn childAnd in my head, I was yelling at that calorie counter app that was showing the amount of extra calories I had consumed in bold red numbers: “Hah! You think 500 calories over the limit is bad?! I’ll show you how bad I can be!” And ate a bit more.

So now I’m off to have dinner of lettuce leaf and to lick my wounds.

But in the immortal worlds of Scarlett O’Hara – tomorrow is another day!

Being 41

Being 41 is weird.

wearing-moms-heels-pinterestIt’s making me Google ‘serums’ that can turn back years of sun damage. Gosh, if I could step back in time, I would slap that bottle of Reef Oil with the SPF -5 out of my hands and make myself wear a hat, top and 30+ sunscreen!

It’s making me stand in front of the mirror, and use both hands on each side of my face to flatten out my wrinkles. Botox? Yes please!

It’s making me panic that I get so excited about sunny days and doing three loads of washing!

It’s making me get extra tests at the docs for health issues as ‘a precautionary measure’. Gosh, I miss the feeling of invincibility when you are young!

It’s making me break out which is weird! What is the deal with adult acne?!

It’s made me get a blood test to check I was menopausal. But it turned out that I am just a bad tempered b*tch!

It’s made keeping fit so, so hard! Huffing and puffing on the treadmill is just not as much fun when it serves as a cruel reminder of how much I’ve let myself go!

It’s making me not want to enter certain clothing stores, just incase the shop assistants are thinking I am shopping there for my teenage daughter!

It’s making me feel the need to hide my immaturity. Surely, I’m not the only 41-year-old that gets teary-eyed while watching ‘Frozen’; or who laughs at fart jokes, right?

It’s making me feistier, as my tolerance for bullish** is w-a-a-y lower than ever. Actually, I like this part of being 41!

Here’s to growing old disgracefully!

 

 

Not funny

I don’t like my body’s sense of humour.

It’s doing stuff that, quite frankly, I don’t find funny.

For example, it thinks it’s hilarious that as I get older, it is hiding fat in different parts of my body. Like a sick game of hide and seek.

I always had a slight muffin top when overweight, but now it’s more of a inflatable ring around my waist – not just confined to a bit of overflow at the sides; but an overflow all around.

And my body is absolutely laughing itself silly every time I put on a slightly fitted top and turn around to see not just bra fat, but a roll of fat between the bra fat and the muffin top!

ImageAnd I can hear it smirking when I notice some bumpy cellulite on my upper arms, despite doing lot and lots of push up and dips and bicep curls.

“Ha, Ha, Ha,” it says ” You can try to lose weight and exercise, but I have other plans. Mou-hah-hah (evil laugh).”

And it thinks the way it wobbles around like jelly on a plate when I am doing exercises is a real rib tickler!

How am I dealing with all this?

I am stamping my little feet (feeling everything wobble) and yelling out:

It’s.

Not.

Funny!

Finding myself

I losImaget myself over Christmas.

I left suddenly on about December 24 and didn’t even leave a note about why or where I was going, or when I was coming back.

During that time there were frequent sightings of me at the fridge eating leftovers and lots of chocolates. And a few times I was seen sitting on the couch eating more chocolate and watching television.

But it wasn’t the me that was me before Christmas. There were glimpses, but that me had gone. Instead I have been replaced by the me from December 2012 who was so shocked by a photo taken at a Christmas gathering that I vowed to get into shape, get fit and lose weight in 2013.

And the me from January 2013 to 24 December 2013 was doing well. That me was going to the gym, feeling good about how her body was toning up and was looking forward to summer.

I miss that me.

The good news is that I have received sightings of me at the gym this week and doing exercises DVDs at home. So maybe I just might find myself again, after all.

I wish I’d hurry back, though!

The truth has slapped me in the face

Well, metaphorically anyway.  The truth is that it was my thighs that were slapping – and not my face, but against each other!

The other day I had finally dragged myself off my couch and decided to do an exercise DVD.

While I was jumping up and down and jogging on the spot, I heard a weird slapping sound like two seal flippers banging against each other.

With horror I realised it was the back of my thighs slapping up against my enormous ass!

It’s bad enough that I can feel everything jiggling now when before I was fit and toned, but now my body is making NOISE!!!

For me, there always has to be a trigger to wake me up from my delusions that I haven’t really put on much weight.  And this was it.  Plus, yesterday I realised that I wasn’t comfortable in my jeans and caught myself pulling my top down over my muffin top.

I did not want to be this person again, and yet, here I am!

So today was my last day of doom and gloom eating and feeling worry for myself.  Of thinking that I still looked OK in the mirror and that I was just a womanly pear shape. Because the pear has become more of an upside down melted ice cream that oozing out of my clothes.

You’d think that being on a more restricted FODMAPS diet, cutting out lots of carbs and processed foods would have the weight falling off me.  But I struggle because the normal healthy things I was eating when I needed a snack, are out of question now, so I am reaching for things that I know won’t hurt my tummy (and sometimes things that I know will) such as chocolate and plain chips.

I know the main issue is lack of exercise, which I have been struggling with since getting so sick in winter. Blah, blah, blah excuses, excuses.

I figure I’ve got three and a half months until I turn 40 and I want to feel more like me when I hit the big 4-0.  But even closer is summer and the prospect of wearing floaty fabrics, and going to the pool with my kids, exposing my cottage cheese thighs to the world – eeeekk!

Today was like my last meal day.  I had pancakes for breakfast, leftover birthday cake from my husband’s 40th party yesterday, lots of leftover dips, cupcakes and even ice cream (a big FODMAPS no no).

Tomorrow is Day One.  Fingers crossed!