An experiment...

I just ordered some fancy-schmancy bathroom scales that measure bone density, weight, fat content and hydration - allegedly. They will be here end of the week-ish.

I'm about to sign up for a very, very tough off-road marathon - so I plan to map physical changes here, according to what the scales say. Could be fun, could be heartbreakingly awful. Soon find out.

I'll be doing 4-5 runs a week with perhaps four swimming sessions and occasional gym workouts (which will be mostly core focused, or occasionally hamstring), all being well, for the next 15 weeks.

Like I said, it could be fun.

You'll never guess what!

I put all the weight back on. Every pound.

It's mostly through drinking, self-medicating since my separation. I also had a strange injury, which meant I cut back on the amount of walking I was doing and right back on the running. It's amazing how quickly you can add weight when you consume over 1,000 extra calories most days, and don't walk three hours in the woods with the dog, then go for a 70-minute run in the evening. It can really build up...

Injury seems to be sorted, running is going well so far this week, and life is settling down a little bit too. So it's all coming off, with lifestyle changes to keep it off this time.

Dagnabbit.

Z wakes up

It's been a while, sorry if you've been dropping in hopefully.

I did go and buy those new bras, finding that I had dropped a size - 32 instead of 34, that is.

The reason I don't write here often is that there doesn't seem anything to update on a diet blog when one isn't actually dieting. I seem to have settled at my present size for now, though I'm only too aware how easy it is to let a pound or two creep on without taking much notice. I've been working rather harder than I'd wish of late, and the occasional chocolate biscuit has been eaten. Still, no weight gain; or at least, I'm no bigger.

In fact, lying in bed a few minutes ago (that is, I'm still lying in bed), I ran my hand down my side to rub a tickle and realised I could feel all my ribs. I knew that, but I'd forgotten. I'm not used to being the size I want to be. It's nice.



Sent from Z's iPhone

pick-me-up

I measured myself today.  34/27/36.  Yes, I know, I was in better proportion before.  How does one whittle down a middle-aged waist?  And I've been putting it off, I must get measured for new bras - they still seem to fit, on the tightest hooks rather than the loosest, but I must be a lot smaller now.

I don't think one should underestimate the importance of nice underwear.  It doesn't matter if no one but yourself sees or notices it (the Sage is not an underwear man), it makes one feel good - and a well-fitting bra does more to make your clothes hang well than anything else.  A while ago, I read someone's blog where she was grumbling about the cost of bras, but she refused to pay more than a fiver and, from what she said, she was quite a big woman - you only have to look at their construction, there's a lot of work in it and, if looked after, one lasts a pretty long time.  I usually buy two or three a year, but that doesn't mean I throw the old ones out because they're normally still perfect for another year.

I've had a chest infection and still can't eat much and I haven't been drinking for nearly a fortnight.  That is, I had half a pint of cider when we went out last night, but I couldn't finish it and only had it to be polite.  We're expecting guests this evening and I'll serve champagne when they arrive.  Champagne puts a spring in everyone's step, doesn't it?

Another year begins

I rarely write here, I'm afraid because, when I do say anything about weight loss, what I eat and so on, it tends to go on my other blog.  I didn't want that to turn into any sort of themed blog, but it felt quite all right as part of general writing about my life.

However, new year and all that, it's time for an update here.  Which is that I've succeeded in losing the two stone I set out to lose, all of five years ago, though I've fluctuated a bit on the way.  A stone and a half went in a year and the rest went very slowly.  I lost and gained a few pounds, but overall I kept inching down.  Actually, this time last year I bought a size 12 skirt again - it was a straight, fitting style and it went against the grain to go back up a size, but I liked it and it was in the sale ... anyway, it wasn't too good a buy because it's now too big.

And how much too big can be demonstrated by this photo, of the skirt I'm wearing today.

As you see, a size 10 is roomy.  In fact, when buying this, I rejected a couple of others because they were too large.  Of course, makes vary and so do styles, but I can't be less than satisfied with progress.

On the other hand, I still weigh a good half stone more than the weight I used to be comfortable at: 8 stone 4 pounds.  I ate a lot over Christmas and haven't gained anything, but I need to cut down now or I soon will.  I don't think my previous weight is necessarily anything to aim at now - what was good 20 years ago might not give me the resilience to illness I have now - I seem to have a pretty good immune system.  Also, losing weight makes wrinkles show more.  Also, I dread osteoporosis and want to make sure I have a good diet with plenty of calcium, and that means cheese.  I don't take milk in drinks, though I use it in cooking, and I love cheese.  Life isn't worth living without it, frankly.

I will write another post or two here because I do seem to be finding a lifestyle that suits me, that I can maintain (with some care) a healthy weight and still eat what I want, pretty well.  Though it'll take a few years before I know if it's sustainable.  However, that I've managed to do what I set out to and have done it steadily, that I've lost the last few pounds that stuck there stubbornly for so long and that I've lost those that I put on in the interim has to be counted a success.  Not quite xylophone ribs, but at least they are visible.

My crazy plan worked...

...well, mostly.

My plan was always to exercise more and manage my diet. I've always found that with IBS, or IBS-alike, I couldn't eat the healthy foods I have always enjoyed. For example, I haven't eaten spinach in almost seven years; I adore the stuff, can't touch it any more. I just don't digest it any my body works very hard to get rid of it as fast as possible... Yeah, you get the idea with that.

So anyway, I'm still injury free. And on average, over the last two years, I have lost over a pound a month, which is ideal, especially considering the currency's relatively strong presence on international markets. Converted to, say, rupees or the US dollar, I'm actually quite slim.

In real money, I'm still around 220lbs, but so much more of it is muscle and I'm in arguably the best shape of my life. Most of my clothing no longer features an 'X' in its sizing, for example. T-shirts are a 'large'; undercrackers are generally between the two, but they have to accommodate my thighs, so I don't mind and XL in them.

So, it's mostly worked. I feel great and look much better, without really altering my diet, though I am currently experimenting with probiotic supplements to see if they'll help. I've actually eaten my first iron-rich greens in years recently (samphire - I'm assuming it's iron-rich because of its sexy, sexy colour) with no ill effects.

I've also been coaching other people, which is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done. My charges recently completed their first organised race, the Ludlow 12k, which left me filled to burst with pride.

Good times.

If the skirt fits....

It was about twenty years ago, when my mother and I were staying with Wink.  I used to drive her down in her car, then come home by train and my sister would drive her back up and go back by train in her turn.  She didn't like to make the journey alone - alone apart from her dog, that is.

Sometimes I'd stay for a few days, and on this occasion we went shopping.  I saw a skirt I rather liked, longish, silky, black with cream and golden brownish (I'm rubbish with colours) flowers, a size 10 and quite unforgiving, being straight and sleek.  But my mother saw it too and pounced first (she had no idea I was interested myself).  She bought it, which was fine ... but she never wore it.  When she died, ten years later, it still had its label on.  I have no idea why she didn't wear it, or give it to me or Wink instead, but maybe she thought it was a bit young for her? - I don't know.  Anyway, within a few years I'd expanded, so wouldn't have been able to wear it.

We used to exchange clothes sometimes - that is, I don't suppose I passed anything much on to her, but she did to me, she bought rather a lot of clothes.  So Wink and I didn't have any scruples when she died about keeping any of her clothes that we liked, before passing the rest on to the charity shop.  One coat, she's only bought three months earlier for £250, which was a sort of bravado to prove she wasn't really ill and would live long enough to get full wear out of it.  It's lovely, I still wear it and get lots of compliments.

But this skirt has hung in the wardrobe.  And when I lost weight and could wear a size 10 again, it was still too small.  Then, I could do it up but it looked too tight.

Last Thursday, I was going out to dinner.  And I tried on the skirt.  Darlings, it went on easily, did up, I wore a close-fitting top and it looked fine.

Still half a stone to go, though.  But that was pretty damn satisfying.  Makes me feel I'm on the right track.