...and is pleasantly surprised. I haven't weighed myself for ages because it hasn't been convenient - with my Victorian scales in the porch, one can't do the early morning weigh-in in the nuddy which, let's face it, is the only one that counts. And, as either I'm going to spend the morning wall-building or I'm in a hurry, I either wear jeans (heavy) or don't have time. Anyway, today I did, so I put on a summer skirt and a teeshirt and came down to weigh myself before going to wash my hair and dress in wall-building clothes.
9 stone and just under half a pound. Yes, I'm surprised too. That's 27 pounds I've lost since the start of this. You might think, and you'd not be wrong, that this is not a vast weight loss in 19 1/2 months, but as I've said before, it's not the speed of the loss that matters to me so much as its continuation and its permanence. The really good thing is that I've not been really dieting, just eating carefully, and in a way I really can sustain, and yet I must have been losing about a pound a month, which is absolutely fine. I've been feeling that I'm a pretty normal weight ever since I got to 9 1/2 stone, which is why I've been fairly relaxed - it's been frustrating that I'm so relaxed but, and I think this is the reason so many diets fail, you can't pretend about it. If someone says "I really should lose weight" then they aren't going to, however porky they are.
I've been too busy to get on the bike as often as I'd like - if I've got only 20 minutes to do the shopping there's no point in spending 15 of them cycling, but I have been very active, mostly in the garden. I'm sure it's the activity that's tipped the balance.
Now I've lost weight, I've got really flabby thighs. Hm.
Monday, 15 June 2009
Sunday, 7 June 2009
Z muses
I went to a wedding yesterday and received compliments on my appearance and weight loss (this is so double-edged, as it so evidently means "gosh, now you aren't nearly so fat as you used to be!). And today, a friend whom I see regularly asked me if I'd lost more weight because it looked as if I had.
So maybe I'm doing something right after all.
Still haven't actually weighed myself though - that is, I occasionally pop on the bathroom scales, but I rarely have my contact lens in when I'm in the bathroom and they are old scales with a wobbly needle, so although I can see that I'm still the right side of 9 1/2 stone, I can't tell by how much.
Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sure I am that a lot of us who want and need to lose weight and eat healthily and take exercise simply eat more than we realise we do, because we've been doing it for so long that we don't notice. I've been observing people and, on the whole, the slender ones stop eating when they've had enough and the fat ones clear the plate. The fat ones pour cream onto a gateau which already contains whipped cream. Having been on holiday with a group of people recently, I couldn't help but notice that if they had cereal, they put more in the bowl than a standard portion. And the little individual jars of jam were scraped clean - a thin person used the amount needed for the roll. So, if you asked each of them to keep a food diary, even when they wrote down the same thing, one of them would have eaten much more than the other, and been quite unaware of it.
The thing is, I think I've got to understand what not to do if I want not to put weight back on. It's all right when you're dieting - you just avoid what you're supposed not to eat. But it's so easy for the quantity to creep up. And it is all right to have the occasional tasty extra - but again, 'occasional' can easily become several times a week.
So maybe I'm doing something right after all.
Still haven't actually weighed myself though - that is, I occasionally pop on the bathroom scales, but I rarely have my contact lens in when I'm in the bathroom and they are old scales with a wobbly needle, so although I can see that I'm still the right side of 9 1/2 stone, I can't tell by how much.
Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sure I am that a lot of us who want and need to lose weight and eat healthily and take exercise simply eat more than we realise we do, because we've been doing it for so long that we don't notice. I've been observing people and, on the whole, the slender ones stop eating when they've had enough and the fat ones clear the plate. The fat ones pour cream onto a gateau which already contains whipped cream. Having been on holiday with a group of people recently, I couldn't help but notice that if they had cereal, they put more in the bowl than a standard portion. And the little individual jars of jam were scraped clean - a thin person used the amount needed for the roll. So, if you asked each of them to keep a food diary, even when they wrote down the same thing, one of them would have eaten much more than the other, and been quite unaware of it.
The thing is, I think I've got to understand what not to do if I want not to put weight back on. It's all right when you're dieting - you just avoid what you're supposed not to eat. But it's so easy for the quantity to creep up. And it is all right to have the occasional tasty extra - but again, 'occasional' can easily become several times a week.
Friday, 5 June 2009
Not given up yet
I'm still alive, and I'd post if I had something to say. My weight still stays pretty well the same, and I still know that I'm eating to not put weight on rather than to lose it. It's a bit desperate in that respect - I sort of think that I'm going to have to resort to eating hardly anything for a couple of days to lose a couple of pounds and then revert to normal for a few weeks, and do that every month. But I know that crash-dieting is silly and pointless - it's just to kick-start, I suppose.
At this time of year, at any rate, it's easy to eat loads of fruit and veg and not bother about much else. Except, you know how it is. I was given a box of Bendicks Bittermints the other day. Now, how can a girl resist that? I don't even want to. I don't care. A year ago I would, but that was a size ago. I have no ambition to be less than a 10 - indeed, I don't know if it's possible without being really thin. I would like a smaller waist and smaller thighs, to be sure, but the hips are fine.
But I mustn't relax. I'm not dieting for how I look, but to stave off a new hip as long as possible. If only there were a more immediate cause and effect. One needs a reward. But virtue is its own reward, isn't it?
At this time of year, at any rate, it's easy to eat loads of fruit and veg and not bother about much else. Except, you know how it is. I was given a box of Bendicks Bittermints the other day. Now, how can a girl resist that? I don't even want to. I don't care. A year ago I would, but that was a size ago. I have no ambition to be less than a 10 - indeed, I don't know if it's possible without being really thin. I would like a smaller waist and smaller thighs, to be sure, but the hips are fine.
But I mustn't relax. I'm not dieting for how I look, but to stave off a new hip as long as possible. If only there were a more immediate cause and effect. One needs a reward. But virtue is its own reward, isn't it?
Friday, 15 May 2009
No, I'm not.
Weighing myself today, that is. Went out for a meal last night (Thai) and it was really very nice, but as soon as I stood up at the end of the meal, I knew an evening on the toilet wasn't far away. Something irritated my stomach hugely - probably eating prawns, as I've been staying well away from seafood lately. Mainly because it's a 'Go Directly to Toilet' card in the game of Monopoly that is my life.
Do not pass go, do not collect £200.
Etc.
And for all my grand plans for this morning (mapped a five-mile route out in my head yesterday that I was going to try on a run), I'm not doing anything. I slept horribly, and am still very, very bloated as I type this. I must stick to very plain foods, it seems. Which is fine, as I'm very happy eating an unadorned baked spud with chicken breast. But it does limit eating out. Night before last, we went to the cinema and the ladies wanted to eat at Nando's, so we did. One look at the menu and I was having two helpings of plain corn on the cob, and a side of garlic bread (which I ate a mere three quarters of). Everything was in a spicy sauce, and I do mean everything. It was proclaimed with pride on the menu that everything is in some kind of shitting sauce.
Maybe not an actual shitting sauce. Don't take that too literally.
Anyway, lessons are being learned. I really wanted to run this morning, but in a good way, and not to the bathroom. Grrrrrr.
Do not pass go, do not collect £200.
Etc.
And for all my grand plans for this morning (mapped a five-mile route out in my head yesterday that I was going to try on a run), I'm not doing anything. I slept horribly, and am still very, very bloated as I type this. I must stick to very plain foods, it seems. Which is fine, as I'm very happy eating an unadorned baked spud with chicken breast. But it does limit eating out. Night before last, we went to the cinema and the ladies wanted to eat at Nando's, so we did. One look at the menu and I was having two helpings of plain corn on the cob, and a side of garlic bread (which I ate a mere three quarters of). Everything was in a spicy sauce, and I do mean everything. It was proclaimed with pride on the menu that everything is in some kind of shitting sauce.
Maybe not an actual shitting sauce. Don't take that too literally.
Anyway, lessons are being learned. I really wanted to run this morning, but in a good way, and not to the bathroom. Grrrrrr.
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
No beer, so good.
Well, it's a bit like 'so far, so good' isn't it?
Seriously though, enjoying the 'no beer' so far. It's actually 'no alcohol', but that might take a kicking when I leave for Macau at the end of the month. That said, the hotel has three outdoor pools which I might well make use of, plus a big gym by the look of it. But apparently the humidity will be 100 per cent, so I'll only be using running shoes indoor, which is a shame.
Feeling great, having to stop myself over-exercising, got plenty of energy, and I feel like I look pretty okay, too.
So far, so good. I'll weigh myself on Friday and see what it says.
Seriously though, enjoying the 'no beer' so far. It's actually 'no alcohol', but that might take a kicking when I leave for Macau at the end of the month. That said, the hotel has three outdoor pools which I might well make use of, plus a big gym by the look of it. But apparently the humidity will be 100 per cent, so I'll only be using running shoes indoor, which is a shame.
Feeling great, having to stop myself over-exercising, got plenty of energy, and I feel like I look pretty okay, too.
So far, so good. I'll weigh myself on Friday and see what it says.
Sunday, 10 May 2009
New motivation
I went for a really lovely run this morning. Did four miles for the first time in ages. My knees feel fantastic, my muscles feel... Very, very good.
At the end of the third mile, or thereabouts, I passed the 'gentleman' that shagged my girlfriend when I was 21. He was supposed to be a friend of mine, and it disappointed me greatly. I decided to leave town, this being a small place and everything, and went on a pretty great adventure.
I came back here a few years ago, and he was the first person I bumped in to. Turns out after I left, he even took the job I vacated, the imagination-free fucker.
So anyway, he recently became a father of a ginger creation, I forget what gender. Good for him, I congratulated him when I saw him in the street. I meant it, too. He's always wanted kids.
But when I passed him at the end of mile 3 this morning, he was pushing a pushchair, and had one of his girlfriend's other two children with him. And he was looking straight ahead, chuckling.
How passive-aggressive can you be? I have no doubt that this was for my benefit, despite me being on the other side of the street. He and the older child had not communicated at all, it's a long straight bit of road, and there was really no reason for a chuckle other than the fat fucker wheezing along on the other side.
So me being me, and not being passive-aggressive so much as I am plainly direct and unafraid of fuckwits, I shouted 'Morning!' very loudly, he replied, and I called out as I passed: "Chuckle up, buttercup!"
Not my most creative retort, but it felt great at the time. And it hardened my resolve to do the two marathons I have on the calendar; I even went to the gym this afternoon, despite the four-miler, to do more work on my legs and keep them strong so I can stay fit and keep going and going and going…
I often think I should thank him for driving me away from this town, but then I catch myself and remember what a turd he is. He is nothing and no-one – but he is a very, very convenient piece of motivation.
PS: I also ran faster than ever in plodding-training this morning – I usually do around 11-minute miles, as it's about keeping going rather than speed, but today did 10-minute miles, without even noticing. Bodes well.
At the end of the third mile, or thereabouts, I passed the 'gentleman' that shagged my girlfriend when I was 21. He was supposed to be a friend of mine, and it disappointed me greatly. I decided to leave town, this being a small place and everything, and went on a pretty great adventure.
I came back here a few years ago, and he was the first person I bumped in to. Turns out after I left, he even took the job I vacated, the imagination-free fucker.
So anyway, he recently became a father of a ginger creation, I forget what gender. Good for him, I congratulated him when I saw him in the street. I meant it, too. He's always wanted kids.
But when I passed him at the end of mile 3 this morning, he was pushing a pushchair, and had one of his girlfriend's other two children with him. And he was looking straight ahead, chuckling.
How passive-aggressive can you be? I have no doubt that this was for my benefit, despite me being on the other side of the street. He and the older child had not communicated at all, it's a long straight bit of road, and there was really no reason for a chuckle other than the fat fucker wheezing along on the other side.
So me being me, and not being passive-aggressive so much as I am plainly direct and unafraid of fuckwits, I shouted 'Morning!' very loudly, he replied, and I called out as I passed: "Chuckle up, buttercup!"
Not my most creative retort, but it felt great at the time. And it hardened my resolve to do the two marathons I have on the calendar; I even went to the gym this afternoon, despite the four-miler, to do more work on my legs and keep them strong so I can stay fit and keep going and going and going…
I often think I should thank him for driving me away from this town, but then I catch myself and remember what a turd he is. He is nothing and no-one – but he is a very, very convenient piece of motivation.
PS: I also ran faster than ever in plodding-training this morning – I usually do around 11-minute miles, as it's about keeping going rather than speed, but today did 10-minute miles, without even noticing. Bodes well.
Saturday, 9 May 2009
A funny old game.
Some weeks, I don't get much exercise, and those weeks are not much fun. But most Friday afternoons, I sack work off early and head down to my old school to play indoor football with some of the teachers. This is surprisingly demanding, and generally great fun. The more people available to play, surprisingly, the harder it is – but the fun grows exponentially.
Yesterday though, I was keeping goal for a few minutes and took a very hard shot right in the plums. That was no fun at all.
I digress. The football is often a shot in the arm for further exercise. For example, after an hour's play last night, which was really tiring, I got up at 7 this morning and went for a run. I ran over 3 miles for the first time this year and honestly, could have run five or six. It all felt right, knees felt mostly great, form was good, the weather was perfect for it, everything came together. I added some on o the end of my usual-ish route, an extra half-mile I'd never run before, and cruised through it.
Runs like that are what keep you coming back for more. In fact, I aim to be out there again in the morning. My new resolution, you see, is to give up beer. Oh, I've said it before, but it seems to be one of the main irritants to my stomach. I could drink Guinness for a while, or other stouts, but even that's causing me grief now. So the beer is gone, and right on the full moon too. We'll see how that works out, but I suspect that with more running, it will work out rather well.
I'm in a 10k race in a couple of months, in London, on my 35th birthday, and I would dearly love to beat my personal best at that distance, which is a piffling 56:29 for 6.2 miles. I think I can do it, and from there, the next race might just be a full marathon in the autumn.
I'm rabbiting, I'm sorry. It's been an exciting and very full week, but not in dietary terms, so I'll keep the exciting things to myself for now. My diet seems to be settling down a bit; I'm working out what to cook so I can eat with the ladies, and still enjoy exercise, or not. Working out which days are best to rest, which to push myself. I've been running faster, on occasion, to see if I can, and doing it consciously and in a measured way. I think, honestly, I'm a better runner now, more considered and more aware thanks to injuries and niggles. That might or might not translate into me becoming a racing snake by autumn; we'll see. One of my other resolutions though, is to invest in a sports massage occasionally, and a physio whenever it's required.
Mid-summer, my wonderful wife will have a new workshop outside of town, and I plan to cycle up there for lunch with her every day, all being well, for a bit more exercise. And what a wonderful motivation, too. Just a couple of miles there and a couple back, ideal for lunchtime.
I'm babbling a bit here. I'm still a bit high from my run.
Two obstacles are looming in beer terms – a trip to Macau at the end of this month, and one to Germany early July. Hmmmmmmmm.
Yesterday though, I was keeping goal for a few minutes and took a very hard shot right in the plums. That was no fun at all.
I digress. The football is often a shot in the arm for further exercise. For example, after an hour's play last night, which was really tiring, I got up at 7 this morning and went for a run. I ran over 3 miles for the first time this year and honestly, could have run five or six. It all felt right, knees felt mostly great, form was good, the weather was perfect for it, everything came together. I added some on o the end of my usual-ish route, an extra half-mile I'd never run before, and cruised through it.
Runs like that are what keep you coming back for more. In fact, I aim to be out there again in the morning. My new resolution, you see, is to give up beer. Oh, I've said it before, but it seems to be one of the main irritants to my stomach. I could drink Guinness for a while, or other stouts, but even that's causing me grief now. So the beer is gone, and right on the full moon too. We'll see how that works out, but I suspect that with more running, it will work out rather well.
I'm in a 10k race in a couple of months, in London, on my 35th birthday, and I would dearly love to beat my personal best at that distance, which is a piffling 56:29 for 6.2 miles. I think I can do it, and from there, the next race might just be a full marathon in the autumn.
I'm rabbiting, I'm sorry. It's been an exciting and very full week, but not in dietary terms, so I'll keep the exciting things to myself for now. My diet seems to be settling down a bit; I'm working out what to cook so I can eat with the ladies, and still enjoy exercise, or not. Working out which days are best to rest, which to push myself. I've been running faster, on occasion, to see if I can, and doing it consciously and in a measured way. I think, honestly, I'm a better runner now, more considered and more aware thanks to injuries and niggles. That might or might not translate into me becoming a racing snake by autumn; we'll see. One of my other resolutions though, is to invest in a sports massage occasionally, and a physio whenever it's required.
Mid-summer, my wonderful wife will have a new workshop outside of town, and I plan to cycle up there for lunch with her every day, all being well, for a bit more exercise. And what a wonderful motivation, too. Just a couple of miles there and a couple back, ideal for lunchtime.
I'm babbling a bit here. I'm still a bit high from my run.
Two obstacles are looming in beer terms – a trip to Macau at the end of this month, and one to Germany early July. Hmmmmmmmm.
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