Tis the season....

With the ‘silly season’ now upon us it seems the perfect time to stop and have a think about ways to keep the Christmas indulgence balanced to ensure our thighs don’t end up looking like the Christmas Ham.

If you are anything like me you will have many pressing social engagements over the coming weeks. All involving an abundance of food, drinks and of course merriment (aka: egg nog). be it work Christmas parties, mother’s group parties, family parties, friends, more family, and of course the big day itself.

The one day of the year where we seem to think it socially acceptable to eat until we are literally bursting out of our pants. The day where Uncle Herbert proceeds to undo his belt buckle and allow the button and zip from his jeans to slowly unfurl (or pop right off) to allow for the second helping of Christmas pudding and Aunt Ethel's trifle. Even worse someone in the family inevitably wears elastic waisted pants specifically allowing for easy stretching after a lunch AND dinner of pure indulgence.

Last Christmas I actually managed to jog 7 kms in between lunch and dinner. However, I then knowingly proceeded to eat every inch of food insight and completely make redundant my earlier efforts. In hindsight I would have been much better placed simply skipping the jog and reducing the quantity of food on my plate!

So, how do we avoid the extra Christmas kilos this year? Well, sadly my only answers are the same as usual. Move more and eat less. If your family is likely to have a vast array of mouth-watering-yet-weight-increasing-snacks on offer before the turkey makes an appearance, how about taking along a healthy fruit platter to share.

I am always bemused to see that the platters with celery, carrot sticks, humus, dried fruit and nuts, grapes, cherries and a variety of other low fat snack items seem to be the first off the plate.

If I were to give you my top 5 Christmas day tips they would be:

1: Start the day with a healthy, filling breakfast. I know some families start Christmas day with brunch. If this is you, consider indulging in summer fruits, healthy sea food, freshly squeezed juices, summer muesli's and yogurts mixed with seasonal berries. (NB: A glass of champagne is of course a must).

2: Take a 2 litre bottle of water with you. Christmas in Oz is hot of course and mostly always involves sun and champagne. If nothing else, your water will at best keep the hangover at bay till after 5pm!

3: Take the skin off! Not the quintessential sunburn we Aussies are so prone too – but rather, the skin off your bird. Chicken, turkey and pork are all meats high in protein. Whilst I too lament the skin is often the tastiest part, it’s also the part laden with fat and guaranteed to increase the size of my thighs! Over Christmas think about taking the skin off your meat and adding a teaspoon of home made apple sauce for some extra flavour!

4: Have a Christmas day stroll instead of an after lunch nap! For as long as I can recall my folks would have an afternoon nap in between lunch and dinner. Perhaps it was to recharge their batteries before the partying (eating) continued, or perhaps it was a direct result of the bodies exhausted efforts at digesting a days worth of food consumed in one hour!

It is often the case that when one feels full, they will also feel lethargy. So, how about this year rather than having a nap – take a walk. A gentle stroll around the block will give your body a chance to digest the ice-cream and trifle and give you a nice energy boost from the increased heart rate and blood flow! Hey, if nothing else you’ll be prepped for round 2.

5: Last but not least – put your party frock on and boogie! Christmas is a celebration and celebrations in my book are worth donning your pretty dress and fancy heels and reflecting on all the year has been. Laugh with your friends and family, enjoy good food and drink. And, if you do over-indulge - make sure you enjoy it - you can always work it off later :o)

Happy Christmas Season guys :)

Detox over!

Hooray, detox is over!

Actually if I am honest with my loyal readers I must admit I ended it 3 days early.

I can justify it though.......

My baby sister and my awesome brother in law moved into their new home on Sunday. I volunteered to assist with the move and also weed their garden and mow their lawn (WHY GOD WHY????????????!!!!).

Truth be told, I actually really enjoy gardening. Being out in the garden and seeing the small improvements simply ripping weeds (at least I assume they are weeds) makes, fills me with glee (small things/small minds and all that). Not to mention it's free and usually my hobbies involve spending a fair portion of money needlessly!

Any-who, after spending the afternoon lifting boxes and weeding, I decided to venture inside for a glass of tasteless and very unappealing mineral water. Typically as I entered the kitchen weeds recklessly strewn all over my clothes, dirt replacing what was previously eye-shadow, who should I run into but my brother-in-law sipping away on a cold, inviting, desirable beer! Instantaneously my lips started to tingle, my hands started to shake and naturally I started salivating. (Gosh, I sound like an alcoholic don't I - DON'T ANSWER THAT).

Now it needs to be said that beer is generally not my first drink of choice. A cold glass of white wine is. BUT (clearly it is a big but), on a summer's day when the rays from the sun are penetrating through your clothes, you're dreaming of the beach and the accompanying life-guards (ahem) and sweat is beading the very make-up off your face - beer is the answer!

Well to cut a long story short, as I stood there envious of my brother, watching the bottle reach his lips and imagining they were mine, I decided to abstain from the beer but drive straight to the shops to purchase a celebratory bottle of Moet!

As my besty remarked, you simply CAN'T say no to Moet! So there you have it, a week long detox unfurled for a glass of expensive french champagne. Perfect.

I should add that in this week I was extremely loyal to my Blackmores box and abstained from the numerous 'no no's' listed in the detox handbook despite many being in my top-5-must-have-food-group (i.e coffee). I also lost 1.5kgs (started at 71kgs and ended at 69.5kgs) which is a grand feat in anyone's books; and continued running every day despite the claim I'd barely be able to lift my head from my pillow.

It has to be said though that aside from the very obvious lack of wine with my main meal (no, not lunch) I actually felt NO different at all. I had expected unthinkable headaches, numerous toilet stops and lethargy, but nope, nudda, nill.

So, what can I conclude from this I ask you - wine is good for the body, mind and soul - clearly ;o)

"D" Day's!

Bula, Fiji was bliss!

It was so incredible in fact that Muscle Man and I are planning a return trip in March to celebrate our wedding anniversary!

I did jog once but thanks to the sand being so amazingly soft (and white) it was like attempting to run through powder snow (a very funny sight - unless you are the one trying to run in it). Needless to say after that first morning I willingly succumbed to holiday mode and took up my prime position by the pool - cocktail in one hand trashy novel in the other. Perfect.

One thing I must admit too is that I don't yet have the emotional strength to sit pool-side with a throng of amazingly beautiful women (some the mothers of multiple children) wearing string bikini's with not an inch of cellulite or trace of a stretch mark in sight. It looked so effortless for so many. Not a care in the world, not a whisper of gruelling Fijian morning runs or nastily self- critiquing every pair of shorts I wore.

Muscle Man became quite accustomed to pepping me up after each trip to the pool or beach where I would forlornly return to my room feeling like a beached whale tattooed (well scarred) with the map of the world on my not-taut mid section.

I think for anyone who has lost weight (or wants to) the battle is not simply won with loosing kilos. I've said the whole way through my blog that the quest to love ones-self and feel comfortable in our skin is more than half the journey. Fiji was a very real reminder that my battle is not yet complete and in fact if anything requires some serious adjustment of late.

So then, the question is what am I going to do about it?

Well, first things first - Dust myself off and start again! I must admit that prior to (and certainly after) holidays I had been feeling a little lax with my eating and exercise habits. Sure, I still ran/run an average of 25-30kms a week but it was becoming evident this was only enough to keep my wine and potato chip consumption at bay (yes, it was a large consumption.....of wine). Add to this the vast array of rich and indulgent foods in Fiji (not to mention the colourful and enticing drinks that come with my favourite appeal; a little umbrella and a glace cherry) and we have a recipe for thigh chaff. Yes, eventually something had to give (before my deck chair did).

So as a start, I am now on day 3 of 12 of a detox and healthy eating kick start. I am not thinking of this as a diet (I hate that word) but rather am thinking of this as a chance to replenish the soul, rejuvenate the mind and remove the excess fat! I must admit I don't feel amazingly better or worse (as had been toted) at this stage but I do feel capable and that in itself is a plus in my books!

I am of course on the eternal quest for balance and 'self-love' but surely I'll get there with baby steps right!

Yeah, I'm slack I know!

Only in the blogging sense mind you! I still run just as much, whinge as much (if not more) and curse my paternal grandmothers genes just as much as ever!

But, I am slack in the blogging arena of late and I apologise profusely. I have picked up an extra day at work and Bob now sleeps in the room which houses the computer. I am determined not to let this fall by the way-side though so I am going to make a concerted effort to update with a decent blog at least once a week. Weight loss and exercise are very much a daily frustration/lesson for me so there is more to be said!

We are off to Fiji on Tuesday - HOORAY. I have two sets of swimmers picked out and have been mentally prepping myself for the confidence to wear both without a kaftan over top! I can't wait. Muscle Man keeps lamenting to me that he is looking forward to a whole week off exercise, I lament back that I am looking forward to crisp morning runs along Fijian beaches (that and the cocktails).

I haven't been jogging outside to much at the moment as I have a seriously debilitating fear of Magpies (anyone else?). Sexy Twin on the other hand thinks she is the Maggie whisperer and runs with them daily. She takes their swooping her as a sign of encouragement and runs faster (more like runs away...).

I am thinking it's almost time to either upgrade my faithful treadmill or invest in another piece of equipment. Maybe a x-trainer. Any thoughts? I am also determined to start attending at least 1 pump class at the gym per week with Muscle Man. I simply HATE weights and yet I completely recognise their benefits.

On another note if anyone wants to pay for me to have liposuction and a boob job, feel free!!

Until next time, Bula Vinaka - Am off for the morning run!

My Sexy Twin complex

Being a twin has always come with the assumption that we choose to dress the same, speak the same, indulge in the same guilty pleasures and essentially that we are one personality in two bodies. When we were younger we revelled in this assumption because naturally being twins, we played the part. We were so accustomed to being identified as one person that at such a tender age, we knew no different than to accept the public perception and be “one”.

There is no doubt that being twins there is an unmistakable bond. We have a relationship that stems from the very core of our beings. A relationship that unlike any other comes with an undeniable oneness that no matter how we might try, we can not deny the fact that we are bound by something instinctive, something primal.

What then is the issue you may wonder? Well with social assumption comes pressure and to a large extent it has also potentially defined the way which I (and possibly sexy twin) view myself – both individually and comparatively. When you are expected to be the same, shouldn't you look the same too?

At the moment sexy twin is looking mighty tiny and I must admit that over the last few weeks I have found myself feeling like the “fat twin” again. Feelings which are reminiscent of years gone by. Growing up it was not uncommon to be told that she was the "skinnier" twin, naturally sparking a personal assumption that I must have been the "fatter" one of the pair.

The thing is, whether it is a twin, a friend, a sister, a mother, a movie star or simply Mary, Marg or Mollie next door, there are times in our lives when we do compare ourselves to others. In many ways how could we not when we are inundated with images of thin, toned, tanned women wearing string bikinis or LBD's (little black dresses), lying on a deck chair and having any male (or 4 litre container of castrol oil) within a 5 mile radius drooling.

Women of today are set up to believe that this is the way we should look. These images are defining the way in which we view not only ourselves but also the way we view others. It certainly makes it hard when in one advertisement we have waif like models swanning around on a cat-walk for "who wants to be a supermodel" and typically the very next advert will be for Jenny Craig. How can we possibly deny the subliminal messages which are being transmitted directly to our fragile 'trying-to-lose-weight' minds.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely acknowledge we have an obesity epidemic in this country, surely we all realise it. I'm personally not sure of the answer but one thing I am increasingly aware of is the need to teach self-respect, self-belief and a genuine understanding of health before teaching that a size 10 is the only way to be healthy or attractive. Perhaps to some extent my own perceptions are marred by my pessimism that society really does understand the pressure we place on young girls/women these days when it comes to body image.

Whatever the soap-box I am standing on this week, deep down I do know unequivocally that Sexy twin loves me unconditionally for me. She would never ever look at me as the “fat twin”. I also know that she would never consider herself the image, or model of what she and I should look like. I guess realistically this is yet another issue with battling the bulge. Learning to change our social and personal perception and, or, belief regarding the female form and the shape which it should allegedly take.

The weird thing about my own perception is that I often look at myself and wish to change my shape but then my shape is actually the shape I love the most on women in today’s society!

I guess that there is yet another example of my own body dysmorphia! Naturally I blame the media ;o)

A not so subtle sign!

This morning when I went to clean my teeth in the bathroom I noticed my scales were wet. Using my powers of investigation (i.e. asking the males in my life what happened) I was able to deduce that Jim had pee'd on them! Now Jim has been toilet trained for over 6 months so I can only assume this is his way of telling me he loves me just the way I am and to abandon the scales ;o)

He's a keeper!

Spring has Sprung

Spring has finally sprung, and for me, alongside spring comes a new vigour to enjoy life and smell the roses. I have found myself walking outside the last few days with a goofy-half-cocked smile on my face and a renewed feeling of health, well-being and motivation.

Maybe I love spring so much because in my family it represents so much life. Sexy Twin and I share a birthday in October. My Dad, younger sister, two youngest brothers, one niece, one nephew, and of course MY newest baby Bob, are also all born in spring.

Walk around any lake or parkland and you'll likely see baby ducklings, smell daffodils or John quills blooming; and living in the Nations Capital we are inundated with delicious smelling cherry blossoms and golden wattle. What's not to love. (Muscle Man just said hayfever! Condolences to all you sufferers)

It does however also mark the season when every second advertisement on TV is for weight loss clinics, meal replacement diets, gyms, pills or over the counter diet cures and every other "miracle cure, lose weight fast scheme". Let's be honest, in many ways it is the perfect time to start advertising these items. People are painfully aware that summer is nearly upon us and with that particular season comes the threat of swimmers, shorts, sleeveless tops and sadly for me - regular leg shaving (so lazy through winter!).

In my pre-fab days, I dreaded the onslaught of slender girls with long tanned appendages wearing 1/3rd of the clothing I was. I dreaded the thought of shopping for summer clothes; painfully aware muffins were a winter food and not a flattering look when displayed on your mid-section.

I dreaded the fact that my peers would be frolicking around in the waves on beach weekends away, and Sunday picnics to the local river, whilst I would be sitting on shore nursing my low self-esteem and rapidly diminishing levels of fun. I dreaded summer nights out when girlfriends would be dressed in flowing, slender summer dresses and if lucky, I'd have found a suitable kaftan. I am sure whenever there is something you fear, the world conspires against you and suddenly it's all you see. Swimmers, dresses, singlets, shorts, BIKINI'S would chase me in my summer night dreams.

Well, let's not let this summer be like that. Let's not let our fears, rational or otherwise, see us racing to the cupboard for a handful of chocolate and a smattering of chips whenever the word "shorts" is heard. Let's make this Spring season the start of brisk walks outside, indulging in fresh salads and ripe fruits, taking in the beauty of life and making genuine changes to ensure an enjoyable summer, now and for many more to come.

My best Spring tips to prepare for a beaut summer:

1: Take advantage of the extra warmth and light we currently have. Aim to walk for a minimum of 20 minutes during your day. If you work, go for a walk in your lunch break or after work before the last light. If you are home with kidlets aim to take them to the park a few times a week. Maybe try a different park every 2nd day and try and add an extra 5 minutes to your walk.

2: Start making salads for lunch. Salads can be interesting (although we all know you don't make friends with salad). Add sliced mushrooms, a spoonful of corn kernels, a tin of tuna, cherry tomatoes, a sprinkle of lite feta cheese, pinenuts, and english spinach or rocket for something new.

3: Spend a few minutes each day taking some deep breaths and stretching. As you do so focus on the fact that you CAN achieve your goals without the aid of marketing and scare tactics (i.e diet pills and shakes).

4: Visualise yourself at goals. Imagine yourself strutting the beach in your shorts. Imagine yourself in that summer dress or flowing skirt. Then set realistic time frames to those goals. Allow yourself time to enjoy life, indulge when you want too, and rest when you need. Moderation truly is the key.

5: BELIEVE IN YOURSELF! We can be our own worst enemy but also our biggest strength. Make the choice to be your biggest strength.

Remember - smelling the roses is a cliche, but it's a tried, tested and true one (in my opinion!).

Blast from the past!

Tonight as I lazed around the house in a t-shirt and trackies I heard Muscle Man's teasing voice; "I remember when that t-shirt was tight on you". "Pardon" I say, "please elaborate" (wish I hadn't said that).

Anyway, he is quite right I do still have a number of clothes (mainly in the daggy variety) that I have kept and wear on the odd occasion (such as having done no washing all week). I must admit after the initial "Are you saying I was fat" (of course I was fat but he was not supposed to notice!!) I decided to take the obligatory before and after photo to compare!

Judge for yourself :)

Disclaimer: Top photo - clearly I had NO fashion sense, hence the reflective aluminium sunglasses.
Second photos: DAGGING it up around the house includes no makeup which means no face!

My 'weighty' advice!

One of the most common questions I am asked in regards to losing weight is “How did you do it?”

I myself used to ask this question of people who had lost weight. When I asked it though what I was really hoping to hear was the magic potion. The secret answer to simplistic and fast weight loss. Essentially I wanted what most of us do – A quick fix!

I must admit that even now there are times when I am asked and I hesitate before responding with the truth – hard work, sacrifice, and sheer determination. I recall personally wanting the answer to be something I could actually walk away from hearing with a renewed glimmer of hope that I too could achieve that (with minimal effort on my part).

For this reason sometimes I wish I had a magic answer I could impart for the benefit and ease of others. Sadly though the reality is that however you look at it, long-term weight loss and health are simply not things, which come with a quick fix. At some point sweat will have to be induced and foods controlled.

None the less I have some tips, which have made the ‘journey’ easier, and less regimented:

1: If you are a lover of chocolate and like me can’t always control the quantity you consume, find a substitute. Chocolate-coated liquorice, air whipped chocolate mousse, a lite hot chocolate, and carob just to name a few! Also, consider having dark chocolate with a higher cocoa content.

2: Savoury – I am admittedly a big sucker for salty chips. Salt and vinegar are the best! Whilst it’s not chips I do enjoy a good crunchy carrot cut into sticks and eaten with a lite humus or tomato salsa. Celery is just as good and a very low cal snack! Plain rice crackers are not bad either!

3: Hot chips – Another weakness of mine that has been substituted with home made ‘tata chips. Peel and roughly chop a spud. Lightly toss chips through mixed herbs, a dash of olive oil (or oil spray) and a sprinkle of sea salt. Cook in a moderate oven until nice and crispy!

4: Drink tea or have a glass of water just before you eat. A cuppa is great for suppressing deceiving hunger pangs, as it needs to be sipped slowly. In the time it takes you to drink your tea can really consider either how hungry you are or how much you want that 2nd helping.

5: Popcorn is a great low fat snack and can be purchased in individual snack size packs. Sprinkle with a little season-all or chicken salt for that extra tang!

6: Change white refined carbohydrates to multigrain or brown. Small changes can make a huge difference. Swap the white bread for multi-grain as a start and then work on the brown rice.

7: Replace soft drinks for mineral water. If you want a sweet kick to your bubbles add a splash of cordial. This small change has the potential to save HEAPS of wasted calories! I use a reduced sugar cordial such as Cottee’s diet and find this has well and truly eliminated fizzy drink cravings.

8: Pack food away before you unintentionally have that second helping. For example If you are making a sandwich at lunch make sure you pack all the ingredients away before you sit down to enjoy lunch. You are more likely to eat more if the food is still out and visible. Packing it away signals your portion size is sufficient. If you have a salad sandwich add an apple or banana to your plate to really help fill you up and signify what you are eating and how much.

9: Use fresh fruit for juice. Instead of buying pre-made juices, such as orange, pick up a bag of Valencia oranges and enjoy the real thing! Packed with more vitamin c and less sugar, you can’t go wrong.

10: Be organised. I am a big believer in the Weight Watchers saying; if you fail to plan, you plan to fail! Make healthy snacks and lunches in advance. If you are anything like me you have a propensity to eat whatever is in sight when hungry so being organised can save an “eat everything in sight” binge!

So, what’s your best tip?

Battle of the bulge, or mind?

So, indulge me; is the battle of the bulge really just the battle of the mind?

Today as I was enduring what can only be described as a gruelling, tortuous run, I was pondering to myself why is it that sometimes I can run the same path and feel as light as a cloud, and other times I require a defibrillator and well…basically a whole new body.

Sure there are certainly factors other than my mental state of mind at the time which can impact upon my run. At present I have a nagging head cold which in true Canberra winter style would like to stick around just to remind me how cold and miserable a long winter can feel by the end. As if trying to think through a heady haze of fog was not bad enough, the last few day’s I’ve tried to run through it also.

Yes, I have no doubt that some external factors can play a part in battling the bulge, but essentially external factors aside, in general when it comes to battling the bulge, where does the biggest battle really lie?

When we reach for the extra slice of pizza at dinner, or grab another handful of m&m’s whilst watching TV, what state of mind are we in? When we try on our tenth pair of jeans convinced we look fat in ALL of them, what state of mind are we in? When we self-critique as we look in the mirror and focus on all the personally identifiable flaws, what state of mind are we in? Or when we compare ourselves to Sexy Twin’s convinced we are twice their size, what state of mind are we in then?

Surely if we could abandon all these mental triggers and messages, the battle would be won? The choice to lose weight would be as simple as that. A mere thought that came to fruition because the biggest battle no longer existed and action immediately followed without thoughts of failure, or past incidence.

How many times have you said “this is my year, this is my time”. How many times have you started a ‘diet’ or decided that the time was upon you to make real and consistent changes? If you are anything like me, it’s too many to count.

All too often I would start a new day with a fresh approach. Determined this was the start of the real thing. This WAS the time I was going to lose weight. This diet would work. They never did. I never intentionally set out to sabotage myself, but I can see in hindsight that more often than not I was. The mental battle was already lost before the physical one had even begun.

So what am I saying? Well, I guess in many ways I am suggesting that a mental health check has to occur for many of us before a physical one can follow. For some people it really is as simple as eliminating those m&m’s from the diet. For some the adage that simply eating less to lose weight is true.

For others however, and for me personally, it’s so much more than what I consume. It’s equally if not more, about the exercise and, more importantly - the thought. Exercise is something I can control. It is something that I can conquer, and as a result, it is something I have self pride in afterwards. Sure, I feel pleased with myself when I resist the urge to binge, but unlike pushing myself on a good strong run, simply not eating a TimTam doesn’t come with the added bonus of endorphins.

There is barely a day that goes by that I don’t spend a large portion of that day talking myself in and out of exercise. I negotiate with myself over having ‘days off’. I negotiate with myself over where to run, what time and for how long. Usually it comes down to a simple case of running out of time and hence the only solution is to get running.

For me, when it comes to food, I don’t seem to negotiate. I eat it or I don’t. I feel some guilt, or I don’t.

As I was running along the ridge today, I was fighting all sorts of mental demons. “Just stop, it won’t matter. Turn around, go home. You deserve a day off. You have a sore throat. You need to rest. You’re too bloated to run today, you look like a walrus trying to chase a seal. Save yourself the embarrassment”. This is only a snippet of the thoughts unfurling in my head as I continued to push myself, and my legs, to finish the run I had started. Naturally the minute I arrived home and received CPR from Muscle Man (I mean it, resuscitation was required), I was elated I had run and felt a huge sense of pride and of course my runners high.

Some days running feels superb and I literally run with a smile wide across my face. The thoughts streaming through my head on these days are about my strength, my success, the enjoyment and self satisfaction I feel during and afterwards. These days my mental state, my mind, is clear and kind.

So why somedays am I mentally so 'in tune'. So prepared. Why others am I in desperate need of my own Tony Robbins and a kick up the bum to boot (both to get running and to be kind!).

Of course, it’s all SO much greater than just my run. It’s how I speak to myself mentally every day. Some days the battle feels won. Some days I think that I have all my monkeys on my back sorted and the “fat girl” I saw myself as for so long, is gone. Other days it’s so fresh I can almost literally feel the weight of her sitting on my left shoulder, whispering into my ear reminding me I have flaws (and flab).

Sadly the reality is I don’t have all the answers. The battle is yet to be won and I know all too well that it’s a daily challenge to eat well, to move more - and above all, to love myself for who I am, outside as well as in.

Sometimes I wonder if I had lost a really, really significant amount of weight (i.e. 30- 50 kilos) would I still feel this way? Or would the changes be so incredibly obvious I couldn’t possibly be disappointed with what I saw? But then surely it all comes back to the battle of the mind doesn’t it. In my mind I want to see myself as a svelte, taut, Gillian Michael's (USA Biggest Loser). Heck, wouldn’t we all in our minds eye?

So then, can someone tell me how to remove my minds eye?

Recipe Time! (Low-fat Vego Pizza)

In lieu of time to post a proper update (will attempt to tonight) I thought I'd add one of my favourite, quick and easy low-fat recipes.

Pumpkin, Feta and Caramelised Onion Pizza.

1 onion
1/4 cup low fat feta cheese
1/2 cup pumpkin
1 Pitta bread round
1tbs homus (pizza sauce will also suffice)
Handful baby spinach leaves
Slivered Roasted almonds (optional)

To caramelise your onion leave it on a low heat with a a smidgen (roughly 1 tsp) of olive oil. The natural sugars in the onion will caramelise the onion but it must be cooked at a low temperature. You don't want it to burn, or brown. This will take about 20-30 minutes. If you like balsamic vinegar, you can add 1tbs in the last 10 minutes of cooking. It tastes just as good without it however.

Meanwhile, chop your pumpkin into little cubes and then lightly cook. I tend to zap mine in the microwave for roughly 3 minutes. Once your onion is cooked, toss pumpkin in with the onion and lightly cook for a further 10 minutes. Stir gently so the pieces stay nice and cubed (you don't want pumpkin and onion mash at this point).

Smother homus (or pizza sauce) on your pita bread before adding your onion and pumpkin mix. Whack the pizza in a moderate oven for 5 minutes before adding some baby spinach and a sprinkling of feta (add your roasted almonds here if preferable). Cook for a further 5-10 minutes.

Enjoy!

Bula Baby!

Bula, Hello, G'day, Hi-how-are-ya!

Why all the cheery greetings you may wonder. Well, after months of my whinging to Muscle Man that I NEED a holiday to escape the daily grind (and my treadmill), we are but a hairs freckle away from booking a trip to beautiful Fiji! HOORAY!

It's been almost a year since our last holiday and at the time I just happened to be 37 weeks pregnant with Bob. So really, it almost doesn't count. At last, in just a few short months I'll be sitting back on a deck chair, a fruity cocktail in hand, sexy Fijian with a palm frond feeding me peeled grapes, and a tan to boot! See, I'm dreaming already.

In all seriousness though, the prospect of a holiday in tropical paradise does bring with it the very real and daunting thought of swimmers!

Growing up a bit of a fatty, I was never one for swimming, school swimming carnivals, the beach, summer, and of course - midriff tops and cut off jeans (hey, I was a child of the 80's). I was the token gal wearing jumpers in summer and sitting beside the pool pretending I couldn't swim, or worse, eating so I could use the parental "I have to wait an hour for my food to digest" lie. In truth though, I always knew I was missing out on all the fun and frivolity because my self esteem was so low and my thighs seemingly to big.

Well, this holiday I AM determined to go swimming with confidence.

Our last holiday took place in September of last year, to attend my cousins wedding in Palm Cove, Cairns. It was a fabulous holiday and an absolute highlight was snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef, whilst pregnant with an active baby on board, kicking away as I floated whale like, in awe at the tropical fish and coral below. Did I wear swimmers then you may wonder? Well, yes. I had board shorts and a swimming top - but somehow the enormous belly in front detracted the eyes from the other flaws I can otherwise see.

Realistically, a downside of this holiday was the fact that in my beached whale, waddling state, it was a laborious task to enjoy the day-to-day relaxation whilst sweltering out of my skin and requiring cranes and pulleys to get up off the local beach. I should have just stayed beached. After all, the Daintree wasn't going anywhere.

So, with that in mind, this holiday to Fiji I plan on doing nothing but snorkeling, cocktailing, beaching, sight-seeing and more snorkeling. With all this time immersed in water, the reality is I plan on spending time in swimmers.

For anyone who has ever battled the bulge (or is battling the bulge) you will understand all to well the panic attacks and irrational thoughts that accompany swimmers and public. The mind starts racing a million miles a minute, your palms get sweaty, you start feeling faint and before you know it you have chickened out by buying a serve of hot chips in a paper cup (an hour to digest), or dived head first into the pull still wearing your sarong.

With these thoughts racing through my mind already, how am I going to face the Fijian coast line (and all who occupy it) with swimmers on. Real life swimmers. Not knee length board shorts and a kaftan (although, surely the kaftan originated in Fiji so I'd fit right in) but actual "I've got confidence and am willing to show you" swimmers?

Hmmm, well I guess I've got a few months to figure that out. Stay tuned!

NB: Our resort has a gym! Very deliberate move that one. If I'm not running along to sand Ala Bo Derek style, I'll be running on the treadmill. Hey, it's only MINE I want to get away from ;o)

Spaghetti Meatballs - recipe

Here you go Lil :)

I'll add a disclamier now though - this is not entirely my recipe. No, it's good old Maggi's and Sexy Twin's. None the less it is a low-fat, easy one and great for the kids.

• 500g premium lean mince
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup bread crumbs
• crushed garlic
• 1 tbs mixed Italian herbs

Mix all the above ingredients well. Add additonal breadcumbs if the mixture is too moist. When you are satisfied with the mix's texture roll yourself some little meat balls whilst singing "The Prayer" in Italian at the top of your lungs, aka: Anthony Callea style - http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=6TwBZOttjlM

Heat 1tbs of olive oil in a pan and add your meat balls. Cook until brown (if you can, show your kids or significant other your amazing abilities by flipping the meat balls without the use of cooking utensils - be prepared to clean the floor, toddler, roof and and splash-back afterwards).
Then add 1 jar of tomato based pasta sauce, or tinned tomatoes (or fresh tomatoes and basil if you have them lying around). Add 1 pkt of Maggi Italian meatballs mix and simmer for 10 mins whilst you whack the pasta on and pour yourself another wine.

VOILA!

Serve with another glass of red, and the home grown (Italy that is) sounds of Pavaroti himself crooning through the CD player (the Best of the 90's will suffice).

Enjoy :o)

Pasta or Pilates!

So, Which would you choose? Spaghetti Meatballs, salad and a lovely glass of penfolds....or pilates at the AIS?

I chose the pasta ;o) (OK, you got me, I chose the wine!).

I will add though that I jogged 6kms after work today so either way I think I earned that wine!

"You stink Mummy"

Kids. God love them. Blunt as a tack and honest to boot.

"You stink Mummy" said my darling 3yr old Jim as I picked him up from 'Little School' today. "Thanks buddy" was my response as I sheepishly looked around to see how many unsuspecting parents, carers and children would now be trying to avoid getting a whiff of me. I reached down to give my little guy a hug and ask how his day had been. He recoiled. I'm going to blame the fact I was still huffing and puffing rather than the odour I was allegedly omitting.

In my defense, I had not 15 minutes earlier returned from a long run along the ridge near home before dashing inside only to get my car keys and head out to collect the kidlets and Muscle Man. No time for a shower, change of clothes, deodorant or even a thick winter jumper to try and contain some of the stench I was exuding!

Yes, I did stink. I knew it. Jim knew it. His School knew it. I was still wiping droplets of sweat off my forehead when I collected Muscle Man and this was despite driving with the car window down in 3 degree winter weather with a wind chill of minus 2 coming in through the drivers side window.

Well as if it wasn't bad enough to hear the harsh rejection of my stinky pits from my darling son, the child who loves and adores me despite my many flaws, I then had to hear a tirade of "Wifey, you stink" from Muscle Man too!

Pfft, so let's see, love can be blind but not smelling impaired?

Against All Odds...

...I ran today!

Why all odds you might ask? Well put it this way, until 3pm I was still slothing about in my pyjama's and even then the only reason I got changed was because 3yr old Jim asked me to as it was "afternoon time". What are the days of lounging about in one's daggiest pj's coming to when you are asked to change by a toddler! Pfft.

None the less, change I did (into tracksuit pants mind you - big difference there!). At this point I started toying with the idea of actually christening my new shoes outside, rather than on the treadmill as tends to happen most days.

A quick phone call to Muscle Man to check what time he would be home from work and half an hour later I was off.

Canberra is a very deceiving place in Winter. From the comfort of ones home you can look outside and see a clear blue sky, golden sun, light and gentle breeze and what essentially looks like perfect running conditions. So as I set off, I was preparing myself for a lovely run with the sun slowly setting over the nearby Mountains and a nice cool breeze to soothe the sweat after the first kilometre! I'd envisioned grass parrots chirping, horses in the nearby paddock whinnying, rabbits bounding, a goofy smile on my runners high induced face....

I WAS WRONG!!

Within 2 minutes of being outside my head band and left earpiece from my iPod had blown right off. OK, not the greatest of starts but once I get my rhythm going I'll be right, I thought.

Not 500 metres beyond this I realised my right breast; correction - my only breast, was practically billowing out my top. After a seconds horror and realisation, I looked down to see my maternity bra undone. No wonder I only have one visible breast - it's bouncing some 11cm's each step I take with absolutley no support! Bra done up, take 3.

Well, the so called sun I saw from my lounge window was a cruel mirage. I was now running in absolutely freezing conditions. The clouds a grey menacing colour and rain looming on the horizon. C'mon, you can do this, was my mental chant as I was faced with blistering cold winds. My hands so called was tempted to try run with them under my arm pits, and would have if not for my vanity.

The wind I was facing was more than a simple head wind, it was a full body assault. Coming from every direction. In addition, it has actually been raining here for most of the day so rather than just running, I was having to master the art of hurdles to jump the strewn tree branches (see, blistering winds) and puddles that covered more than half the footpath.

What was I doing? Why wasn't I at home enjoying the warmth of my ducted heating watching this nasty weather unfurl from the safety of my home. No, that would have been the smart option right. Instead I am fighting (and it was a fight, I assure you) my way through winds reaching at least 100kms an hour (surely?!) and all the while acutely aware that any minute a tree branch - or at least a pile of leaves - could fly directly in front of me, dangerously blocking my vision and surely causing me to land in a puddle and DIRTY my new shoes, or at worst- fall over!

After 2kms the only option was to run as fast as my hide could carry me home. Walking was no longer an option. Despite the fact I was actually running as fast as I could, the wind was so forceful that to any passers by it would have looked like an exaggerated walk with a pained, almost constipated, expression on my face!

Finally, 7kms later I was home, and safe. Muscle Man so eloquently remarked as I floundered in the front door, I looked like a vagrant with an iPod.

See, against all odds!

The TimTam Binge

Oh dear, not more than 10 minutes ago I hoed down 3 TimTams, one straight after the other! Tim Tams have not been present in our house in a number of years (to my knowledge anyway) and my lovely Jim just pointed out a packet he and Muscle Man bought this morning whilst I was at work.

Cue a momentary freak out followed by a salivating me and you have 3 TimTams gone in under 2 minutes flat.

So, now as I sit here pondering this predicament I seem faced with a few options.

1). Curl into the foetal position and howl like a baby at my lack of self-control, and subsequent regret (I clearly ate them so fast I didn't savour the taste!).

2). Increase my run by an extra 10 minutes today to work off at least 2 of the little chocolate devils.

3). Bugger the rest of the day and eat anything and everything in sight including any drive through takeaway options in my area, just because I can and I stuffed up before midday so why not keep the trend up.

4). Get over it! Big whoop, an extra 300 calories, I'll just feed the baby a few more times today and really, he wanted a few chocolate laden milk calories anyway right?!

5). All of the above.

I shall be back later to update you on which I chose ;o)

**************************

OK, I'm back! So after this mornings little indescretion I can advise that despite the desire to go with option 3 I did indeed choose options 2 and 4!

I didn't run for any longer than usual but I did increase the speed from my usual intervals of 9km/ph 10, and 11 to a speedy 11,12 and 13. I then followed up my 30 minute run up with a 30 minute weights session. TimTams, what TimTams? :o)

Stress Busters!

Stress. It sucks. But like many things that suck, it is something we will inevitably always face.

Be it stress from work, the kids, paying a mortgage, planning a wedding, dealing with family, whatever the case, we all face stress at some (mostly numerous) times in our lives. How we combat stress is the issue though. I used to eat.

Working in the public service (or any office environment really) there is usually dozens of blasted fundraising chocolates (ironically, a little fat frog called Freddo), coke machines, cafes, social club lollies (and alcohol). And, well, let's face it - nothing but a chair to plant ones butt in all day! Let's be honest, it's a recipe for fat!

There were days in years gone by where I could feel my buttock expanding as I savoured my 3rd Freddo for the hour before contemplating eating his mate, Caramello Koala. Worst of all, Freddo and Caramelly didn't even account for the hot chips, cappuccino's, roast beef and gravy rolls (YUUUMMMM...*drool*) and anything else laden with fat or sugar to to help me blast the stress away. It was not uncommon for me to sit at my desk surfing the net whilst chowing down large quantities of food and washing it down with a guzzle (or is that gallon) of coke.

The truth is, If I wasn't eating to stave off the stress, I was shopping. Usually for food.

I suspect that much of this behaviour came from my days as a faithful and aptly profiled employee of Darell Lea chocolates. Each morning I would front up to work, wash my coffee down with a handful of caramel snows and begin the laborious task of individually packing a vast assortment of chocolate and lollies. Naturally sampling was a must, and the "one for you, one for me" slogan rang true to form.

During my employment at Darrell Lea, Sexy Twin and I were renting a small town-house and at times struggling to pay the rent, utilities and make ends meet. In addition to the stress this caused, we (yes, that's right, Sexy Twin was a Darrell Lea employee also) had the unfortunate pleasure of working with a tyrant of a man whose middle aged, balding, impotent, insecurities, somehow convinced him it was appropriate to comment on our attire, make-up, breasts, butts and sexual appeal from time to time. **

Each time he would leave the shop I would chow down on Peanut brittle followed by Coconut Roughs before retiring to the 'Pix N Mix', all the while harbouring immense frustration at my 18 year old inability to tell the guy to "F^*K OFF" .

Yes, I am almost certain my emotional/stress eating generated at this point in my life. I carried these behaviours, and subsequent kilos, with me for a number of years.

These days when I feel tense, tired, angry, stressed, woeful etc etc I run.

Tonight when I arrived home from work I was feeling despondent and lethargic. In typical Public Service, waking through the night to feed a baby fashion, I'd consumed too much caffeine, not enough water and failed to avert my eyes from my computer screen for most of the day, resulting in a typical office employee headache tinged with a caffeine high. As I was changing out of my work clothes and preparing to put on my pyjamas and call it a day ("yes Muscle Man, that's right - dinner in bed please") I decided that the best way to beat my 'Mondayitis', stress induced, coffee addled mood was to get off my butt (heaven knows it's been sat on enough today) and get moving.

30 glorious minutes later my head was clear, my heart pounding, my desire to eat everything within a 5 mile radius abated, and my mood calm.

Yes, it can not be denied, exercise is the BEST way to beat stress. A glass of wine and sex help too but I'd have them in that order. Exercise, wine, sex ;o)

** That foul individual (harsh but fair) is now packing drink vending machines for a living. And who said karma isn't alive and kicking!

Back to Basics!

In light of recent entries I have taken stock of my current emotional, mental, and physical state and decided it’s time to get back to basics!

When I first began my successful quest to lose weight 2 years ago, I was heavily reliant on my “food and feelings” diary as a way to keep track of my daily food intake, and to record the feelings I had about loosing weight, making healthy decisions, and sadly all the self-loathing I had towards my body and my belief in my inability to lose weight.

Being one for instant gratification, my own expectations had previously always been such that the minute I decided to lose weight, I assumed (OK, desperately hoped) it would just 'fall' off. Naturally when this did not occur, I would throw in the towel, have a tantrum to rival my toddlers and then resort to a big bag of chips or chocolate in an effort to console myself. I simply could not get my head around, or more honestly, choose to acknowledge the fact that losing weight required CHANGE. Real long term, lifestyle change.

We currently live in a society which is so saturated with “quick fixes”. Diet pills and shakes, exercise machines guaranteed to show results in as little as 5 minutes a day, hypnosis, acupuncture, lap-band surgery…the list goes on. And of course this is what we see splashed across the media daily, because let’s be honest, if an advertisement was to come on TV with an overweight person huffing and puffing a house down, sweating up a storm, and cursing like a sailor (such as I do) would it sell? No. Of course not. However, stick around for 5 minutes after a decent-sweat-induced-exercise-session and you’ll be treated to a genuine euphoric, endorphin- induced sense of pride and satisfaction, which simply can’t be rivalled by the likes of pills, shakes, potions and lotions!

Sadly it would seem people are more interested in making money then selling the truth.

The sad reality is that we are living in such a fast paced, busy world these days that it so often seems that all we have time for is the quick fixes. I myself have fallen for the trap many times of thinking that the quickest option is the most suitable.
I'm a busy Mum, I work part-time out of the home, have a house to tend, kids to raise, a cat to feed, friends to see, a husband to whom some days marriage is harder than an 8km run with a headwind- really, who has time for exercise? Why wouldn't we choose the easy option and grab a packet of xantax from the chemist?

Well, for me personally, when it comes to real health and well being, the matter of fact truth is that the only REAL option is the age old adage. Eat well and move more. Sounds simple in theory right, but yet why then is it so hard?

Perhaps it all comes back to instant gratification. We want results now. Not in a year, not a month, not a few weeks. No. NOW. And if you are anything like me, by the time you are making the choice to try and change, you are so sick of seeing the weight related flaws that even yesterday wouldn't have come quick enough for the new and improved body we are so desperately craving. It's all to hard. Pass the pizza please!

Sadly though my friends, I have news for you. Harsh, cold, unrelenting news. There is NO SUCH THING as a quick fix. In the vast majority of cases people who manage to lose weight with the aid of shakes, pills, and powders will often find the weight is back within a few short years. Essentially, the problem being that a change in long term lifestyle did not occur. It wasn't learnt.

Just yesterday I was lamenting to Sexy Twin that this journey is endless. It just goes on and on and on. And the thing is, it does. It’s like paying taxes, buying groceries, cleaning the house (for some of us). Health and well being SHOULD be a daily action. A daily choice, a lifestyle that you live by.

Even if it is only making the choice to park the car an extra 100 metres from work, or drinking your 2 litres of water each day. Or how about consciously cutting your portion sizes in half and really fuelling the body with nutrient rich foods.

Am I suggesting you wake up tomorrow morning and start training for the next local marathon. No way. I am suggesting however, that we get right back to the very basics of good health. Let's challenge our perceptions and social expectations of weight loss, and live the way we are intended too. With movement and nourishing foods daily, and treats in moderation.

For me, getting back to basics means dragging out my food diary. Keeping track of what food I eat and making conscious decisions before I eat to really think; "Do I need this?" "Will it satisfy me?" "Is there a better choice I could be making?". I do the same with exercise. Is there a pay off to this? Will it improve my fitness and well being? Will I reap the benefits of this activity in the long run, even if I can't be arsed right now?

I have also set some firm goals to focus on.

1: I would like to lose 4 kilograms to reach my goal weight.

2: I would like to focus on body tone and strength.

3: I would like to change the shape of my body, to lose my post-baby belly and become lean.

4: I would like to push myself harder when my exercise routines feel easy. To reach that next fitness goal.

5: I would like to keep it fun! Keep my kids involved and ensure there is a 'pay-off' to everything I do where health and weight is concerned.

6: I would like to learn to love myself more than I do now. To be proud of what I can and do achieve and to release myself of the years of low-self esteem surrounding my body weight and image that linger and occasionally cloud my perception.

These goals are my goals from now until October this year. I'm going to reach them all :o)

So, what are your goals? Do you need to get back to the basics?

I'm Walking on Sunshine

Wooooooo~oo~oo, I'm walking on sunshine woooo~oo~oo, and don't it feel great!!

Gosh it's hard to write lyrical sounds like woooooo~oo~oo on paper! In my head (OK, I am actually singing it out loud) it sounds perfectly right though. Ever tried to type the theme music from Jaws - yeah, it's tough!

To be accurate, I am actually walking (well running) on clouds. Yesterday Muscle Man and I finally treated ourselves to new joggers. It's shameful to admit that since my post a few months back, which featured pictures of my toes poking out the side of my shoes from all the kilometres I'd run in them, I have only just replaced them. Yes. Shameful.

None the less, lectures aside, yesterday we went to the local Athletes foot and took the time to use their fancy 'footprint' system and have proper shoes fitted. I must admit that when the sales assistant came out with a pair of fluro green men's shoes, I baulked. I humoured him and tried on the pair before bluntly advising that whilst the correct fit was important to me, vanity was also, and I would not be caught dead sprinting down the street looking like I had giant boogers on my feet. That and the fact I am actually a WOMAN and would happily try on ladies shoes!

As if that wasn't bad enough I was then asked to roll my pants up to my knees so he could see me 'walk' in my new feminine shoes. "What's so bad about that" you ask, well, aside from the fact it was a work day and I was in my lunch break wearing work pants, a shirt, winter jacket and ASICS socks under my boots (yes, not even black socks or stockings - call the fashion police), I had also not shaved my legs in a number of weeks (*cough*, *splutter*...months). Suddenly the 'booger' shoes looked appealing and my claims of vanity were rapidly coming unhinged.

As I sheepishly rolled up my pants I added my disclaimer "Ummm, I'm a busy Mum of two you know, I haven't had a chance to shave my legs this week..." at which point I spied Muscle Man giving Mr Athletes foot employee a knowing glance as if to say "Yep, it's bad, and I have to live with her" (for that I ain't shaving till winter ends now).

Embarrassment aside I tried on two pairs, pranced around the shop briefly all to aware I was looking ever more ridiculous by the second and happily settled on a lovely pair of Nike running shoes.

What a difference new shoes make. I've run 15kms in them over the last two days and felt like a deer leaping through a Field of daisies. Yes, call me Bambi.

I hear by pledge that I will not leave it till I hit the "million km" mark in these shoes before I change them again. The feeling of new shoes is just to good to neglect! Can't wait to take them to the road tomorrow!

The art of Procrastination

Procrastination - According to some random online dictionary, the definition is as follows:

pro·cras·ti·nate: To put off doing something, especially out of habitual carelessness or laziness.

I could be overly sensitive, but that definition is needlessly harsh, don't ya think? Some tasks just suck and quite frankly procrastination is the best defense. In fact, I'll go as far as to say, it's the smart defence!

I must admit, I have the art of procrastinating down pat. Be it waiting for the storm clouds to roll in on a sunny day to avoid hanging washing on the line (OK, that's pessimism), eating to avoid cleaning, sleeping to avoid eating, reading to avoid sleeping, emailing to avoid working...the list is endless.

When it comes to exercise I must say I procrastinate right up until the eleventh hour. Sexy Twin is very diligent when it comes to her run and schedule. She wakes up of a morning promptly feeds her baby, organises her school aged child and drives her to school before coming home, putting the baby to bed for her morning nap, and then jumping on her treadmill to belt out an inspiring 7.5km run! Sexy Twin is wiping of the last bead of sweat as I am rolling out of bed and debating how to start procrastinating my day!

I must admit, I am envious that she is so disciplined in this regard. I am envious that in many respects she has her run done and dusted whilst I am left with the knowledge that at some point in the day I am going to have to stop avoiding the inevitable, and attempt to work my arse off! That said, I am not a morning runner and generally find that my best runs are mid-late afternoon when I have coffee coursing through my veins, food in my belly, child related frustration or exhaustion to run off, and limited hours in my day to continue making excuses.

On Monday I was home from work with Jim being unwell. Bob was fast asleep and I was being habitually careless and lazy (yep, it sounds harsh). I was avoiding any form of heavy lifting, light dusting, gentle cleaning, and endless washing. I was also vehemently avoiding exercising.

To be honest I was busy making a cubby house with Jim and regaling him with childhood stories and tales from my own cubby house building days (Sexy Twin and I even made one with running water once - ya huh - cool, we know!). As Jim and I lay under the kitchen table (ahem, cubby house) which I'd dragged into the lounge and draped with blankets, I reflected on the fact that no matter what I do to avoid exercise, no matter what things 'pop up', nine out of ten times I still make the choice to go for a run or lift my weights - it just happens later than originally planned, but none the less, it happens.

At some point it's like I just snap. I realise that time is of the essence and that the feeling I will have once my run is over, is complete calm, complete satisfaction, bursts of energy and a new found vigour to *think* about other jobs at hand and face my children with a loving smile despite the observance of Jim's having wee'd down the heating vent whilst I was busy sprinting my way to a tighter butt (true story).

In this regard I suggest we change the definition of procrastination. Surely it's only careless and lazy if you don't get around to the task at hand at all. In which case I actually think my form of procrastination is admirable! No matter how lazy I try to be, I've well and truly been bitten by the endorphin bug and eventually they have me up and running. Now, where can I find the cleaning bug.....?

Here is the proof of my attempt at exercise avoidance, and yes, my toddler thinks he is the 5th Wiggle!

Body Image and our example!

The latest edition of Health Smart magazine has hit the shelves, complete with my little tidbit to the editor of course ;o) A particular article which caught my eye instantly, titled "The Shape We're In" has a brilliant comment;

"If every women in the world woke up, slapped herself on the head and said: 'I'm happy with who I am' entire economies would collapse"

How true. Socially we are so attuned to seeing 'perfection' splashed across the television, Internet, magazine covers, billboards - everywhere - that we have this predetermined idea in our minds about what is the perfect body, what is the perfect shape.

It would seem that if you are not able to fit into a string bikini, sport the perfect golden sun kissed glow, have a scar, stretch mark, cellulite dimple in sight, and an IQ over 100, you just don't cut the mustard. You probably eat it yes, cut it no.

But when did we become so unrealistic and obsessed with body image? When did we go from worshipping curves and stunningly voluptuous womanly bodies, to craving, and promoting, waif like praying mantises.

Yes, it could be easily said I am jealous. In some part I admit I am, but surely that's based on my own learned perceptions of the 'perfect figure'. I will never be caught dead in a bikini - the fact I'd have to have it custom made to fit my so called bosoms, lefty and righty, is a large deterrent sure, but generally I accept I don't have the figure which we deem acceptable viewing when clothed in the likes of a piece of string. Not to mention one look at my array of road map stretch marks and I'd have people asking for directions!

I also will never be so thin that should I turn sideways you'd lose sight of me. Do I wish I had a sun kissed glow all year round, no cellulite, stretch marks or wobbly bits of skin? - you bet, but that said, it is my fervent belief that in this life time, it really is more important to model inner traits such as kindness, patience, acceptance and so forth.

Am I saying that being healthy, fit and sexy are not important? No, I strongly believe they are, hence my own quest to be healthier and fitter, but I also believe that you can be sexy at any shape or size. Beauty and body image is not mutually exclusive to size 8 models. To me health is FAR sexier than size.

The last few weeks I've wasted too much time and emotional energy obsessing and stressing over my own body image. I find it goes in cycles. Some weeks I will feel fabulous, exuberant and confident. Others, not so. Overwhelmingly though I am all too aware of the fact that at the heart of the issue, these things do not make a person worthy. A slender person is absolutely no more deserving or unique than a person sporting a muffin top and a vast array of chins, it's just that we are programmed to feel more favour towards thin, attractive people.

Images of attractive, slender people are splashed in front of us so often that it is no wonder if we don't fit the mould we convince ourselves on some level that we are not 'up to scratch'. Surely I am not the only one who notices advertisements featuring a leggy, waif like blonde, are then followed by Lite N Easy, Tony Ferguson or Jenny Craig. Target marketing at it's best!

One day I hope to be blessed with daughters, and the notion that they too may be exposed to the same images we are, is alarming. How can we as parents set the best examples for our children and instill values in them such as self-respect, self-belief and true beauty. The beauty that comes from within.

For Muscle Man and I we hope that our actions reflect a desire to BE healthy. A desire to live a life filled with trips to the park, Frisbee in the backyard, jumps and flips on the trampoline and a healthy attitude for exercise and nutrition.

In this vain, I realise unequivocally that I need to start setting the example by not forcing myself to engage in daily activities or exercise which are to my own detriment. I have become increasingly aware that I have at times called myself "fat" in front of Jim and that at the tender age of 3.5 he is already capable of forming, and attributing my thoughts with his impression of a "fat woman". I am ashamed to admit the above, but I do so with a view to recognise that even the smallest actions on our part, will reflect the thoughts our children will take, and make their own.

The shape I am in is a good one. I could improve on my health, I could improve on my fitness, but the most important thing I could improve is my body image!

My Biggest Ally

Today has been a pretty emotional day! There is no real reason for it, just one of those random odd self-depleting days where perspective seems hazy and emotions run wild.

After a failed shopping attempt this morning (DAMN JEANS SHOPPING) I came home feeling quite despondent. Stupidly I pulled out a pair of bathroom scales and on I hopped. Well, aside from the fact these particular scales are broken, I was wearing jeans, leather boots, and a winter jacket. Needless to say the scales are now 'officially' broken!

So, after bursting into tears I fired off an email to Muscle Man. It was a very self pitying email. Similar to this:

"Woe is me, I hate my body, why can't I be Elle McPherson? Why can't I have skinny genes in order to buy skinny jeans? I want my cake and to eat it too, chocolate sounds good. Did I mention I hate my thighs? That reminds me, I'll have KFC for dinner a chicken thigh would be great. Why does clothes shopping suck so much? Can I have liposuction....blah blah blah"

Now, you have to imagine me sitting at my computer, tears streaming down my face, mascara staining the computer desk, violins playing in the background and guttural sobs coming from me as I give the keyboard the thrashing of it's life (Yes, that time of the month is fast approaching - either that or I am up the duff!!!).

Well, being the wonderful Muscular Man he is, this was the email I found after jumping off my treadmill.....

You know, I love your body, always have through the many different stages that it has been through. I will continue to because I love the person you are too.

You work hard, at times I reckon too hard. You need to learn that enjoyment is key to looking and feeling good too. If you feel like you're just slogging, then everything goes with that.

You'll always have hips, sexy hips. You'll always have a great butt.

Take a step back and take a week off. Evaluate what is important to you and then plan what you are going to do. Look at different things that will help you feel positive and make you want to attack this with all your mind,body and soul.

Sadly we have to work to look a certain way. You've said it before and now you have me believing it too, you feel better for working hard, but it has to have the balance and the right attitude which you are possibly lacking at the moment.

Maybe re-balance, run 3 times a week, not 6. Do 2 weights sessions and then on the other days when you feel like you should be doing something, go stretch and relax. Maybe we get a Pilate's DVD that you can do when you feel like you should be doing something.

I'm a poor model too, I slack off all the time then hit my straps like I've only got a day to live. Maybe a bit of consistency from me, including running with you 3 times a week and doing Pilate's at home with you is going to be a help.

That's what I'm here for baby, to help you. Let me know what you need.

I love you.

YES, give that man a prize! I feel loads better thanks to those jogging endorphins, but it has to be said that Muscle Man is right (there's a first time for everything right...and a last). I think my next entry I'll focus on setting some new goals, a new exercise plan and striving to achieve the balance I am so clearly lacking at the moment!

Oh, and no, he only has a sister - no brothers!

Words of Affirmation!

OK, so despite the cheery, easy-going, attitude and tone I express 95% of the time, I am human and fallible and therefore, I have moments of weakness and despair! Usually I can ride them out pretty well and just put it down to "that time of the month". Of course NO ONE else is allowed to imply that's the reason for my being blue, but between you and I, more often then not it is the underlying reason I feel so "fat" some days.

The last few weeks however I have been particularly critical of myself and I think it's been evident in my blogs of late. I keep scalding myself for bringing the tone of my blog down, but then at the same time I also want to be someone who others can relate too. I know that most people in this journey are going to have hours, days, weeks, months and even years of berating themselves and despairing over their weight and body image.

I am in the 'weeks' phase at the moment. I am sure it has to do with the dreaded P word and so I am trying to take it in my stride and be as kind to myself as possible, but then at the same time I am having moments of self loathing where seeing my reflection is enough to have me consider crying (yes, I only consider - I'm too tough to cry).

As hard as I try I can just be so hard on myself and even my last 2 years of learning to have positive self-talk is only going so far at the moment. So, rather than sitting in my lounge room berating myself over the muffin top spilling over my tracksuit pants, I have decided to take affirmative action and remind myself of the enormous life style changes I have made. I truly believe some healthy self-assessment and affirmation is a MUST on this vicious cycle of weight loss.

So, here goes:

1. I have lost in excess of 20 kilos! All through my own hard work, perseverance, determination, assertiveness and self belief.


2. I have gone from a couch potato to a runner! Previously running to flag a bus caused heart palpitations, now days I could outrun the bus (OK, slight exaggeration, but hey!)


3. I am a size 12!!! Before losing weight the only thing I owned remotely close to a size 12 was my size 9.5 shoes!


4. I am setting a great example to my children. I will be an active, involved Mother for years and years to come.


5. Muscle Man and I have a much better sex life (sorry, 'TMI' I know, but it's TRUE).


6. I have more confidence (yes, it has a way to go yet, but it can only go up from here).


7. I have more energy. Before energy was found in a small silver can called Red Bull, now it's found in the feeling after slogging out a 7km run!


8. I looked like this.. (exhibit A) and transformed myself to look like this (exhibit B). Speaks for itself. Yes, I was slightly intoxicated in exhibit A, BUT that does not account for the bowling ball face.
   

Now I also want to remind myself of a few reasons why it's OK to have a little podge around my middle, why it's OK to enjoy the occasional indulgence and moderation, why it's OK to have a day off exercise and enjoy the indulgence that day may bring.

1. Bob is only just 9 months. I know my body likes to hold onto extra weight whilst breastfeeding and for the sake of nourishing my baby, that's OK.
2. I can, and have achieved my fitness and weight loss goals in the past, and will continue too do so.
3. I am making a very real effort every day to keep myself fit and healthy. I have learnt and adapted life long behaviours that will continue to improve my health, fitness and self respect.

So, if you are a little like me and are in a bit of an emotional rut, maybe it's time for some positive affirmation, positive self-talk and a piece or two of chocolate - GUILT FREE!

**You'll have to take my word for it that I HATE that first picture. It's horrible, absolutely horrible! But honestly, what good is a FAT TO FAB blog if there are not some fat and fab pics :o)

Could it be a Plateau?

Damn I hate that word! Plateau. It's the kind of word that has to be said with an air of disdain when saying it. A word that violently and frustratingly rolls off the tip of my tongue and brings tears of bitterness to my eyes. OK, so slight exaggeration but creative flair has to be accounted for in all my stories.

Last night as Muscle Man and I were having dinner, I pursed my bottom lip and in an annoyingly pouty tone announced that I have hit a plateau!! Muscle Man remarked that the glass of red wine in one hand and pork crackling in the other might be adding to my so called plateau. How rude!

Indignantly I reminded him that wine is my only vice and 8 out of 10 times I choose and will eat the healthy, nutritionally balanced meals. If anything there would be days where I am not meeting my daily calorie quota, rather than the other way around. So, what is the problem? Why do I feel like I am stuck on struggle street not loosing an inch of weight or a centimetre of size.

I've always carried the most weight in my mid section. A number of years ago I attended one of those L.A Weight loss style centres where they charge you one mortgage payment up front to draw your blood, advise you of your weight, and then throw big scary words at you before asking you to sign your soul to the program. Of course they forget to tell you that to actually join the program you need to take out a small loan and be prepared for pessimistic and catastrophic words and syndromes to be thrown at you every time you front up for a new blood test!

After my initial consult I walked away with a hole in my pocket and the knowledge that I apparently had metabolic something-or-other failure (I was distracted by the fact that the guy informing me of this condition and it's associated outcomes, was easily 50kgs heavier than I was). Along with the disheartening information that I was apparently unable to lose weight easily, I was also faced with all these side affects of this so called syndrome. Heart failure, infertility, varicose veins, FAT, acne, bad breath...oh the list went on. I walked out convinced I HAD to join their program or otherwise any efforts on my behalf were hopeless and futile.

In the end the sheer cost of the program was the deterring factor (well that and the fact it was hard to believe the program had results when the persons providing it had such evident weight issues also). I've never really been one for labels. My family has a strong history of depression, and aside from the fact I find it very hard to understand at times, I refuse to believe that because it's there, and the genetic timeline, is evident, that I don't have some control over the outcomes myself. Well, I felt the same way about this metabolic syndrome thingy-ma-jig.

Turns out I CAN lose weight on my own without the aid of blood tests, beetroot juice, starvation and various other methods of torture. However, it's no secret (to me at least) that it is DAMN HARD WORK! Sometimes I just feel like throwing my hands in the air and screaming to the weight loss Gods WHY ME?!?!!? Why did I have to be one of the unlucky ones who has a cup of tea and gets bloated. Why did I have to be one of the ones who was born with chubby thigh rolls that never disappeared, one of the ones who still looks 6 months pregnant when her children are 12 months old. I have ALWAYS had a muffin top, I've always had a bigger butt and I have always had a distinguishable donut if I clench my hands around my belly and make a circle with the excess fat!

I'd be outright lying if I said that I am just blissed out with my body now. I am not. Whilst I completely recognise and appreciate my efforts, and can see the hard slog I've given it, I can also honestly say that it frustrates me that I can jog 30kms in a week, eat healthy and nutritionally balanced foods all week and still not budge an inch!

Ahhh, you see this is where the "P" word comes in! Despite Nardi's Wii fit advising me I need to lose another 8 kilos to be in the centre of my healthy BMI, I know that I am happy with my weight. The number on the scales really does not distress me so much these days. No, it's the image I see when I look in the mirror, or put on a pair of low cut jeans. The bulges that spill over in the moments where I let my guard down and rest lazily on my residual baby belly.

I do understand that for anyone reading this who may be at the start of their weight loss journey, you may think "What is this crazy girl whinging about" and I admit I feel a sense of embarrassment or guilt that I do feel this way, but I also want to be transparent and honest in my personal observations that this weight loss gig is constant! I am yet to find the point where there is no such place as hard work or sacrifice. For me, it's always hard work, because for me the battle is raging in my mind.

I guess that's a blog for another day though isn't it. Healthy body = healthy mind or healthy mind = healthy body?!

The Daily Grind!

If only I was referring to Arabica, Colombian and Porte Rican...sadly though, I am talking about the daily grind of work. I'm back. I had forgotten how much organisation and energy working in paid employment and tending to children simultaneously requires. It really is go, go, go from sun-up to sun-down!

This week I am participating in induction training. I have started work in a new Government Department (hey, I live in the Public Service Capital after all) and despite having spent the last 7 years of my employment, in the public sector I am back at square one learning about Australian Public Service values and codes of conduct (and not by choice mind you) BORING.
So, today as I was sitting in the most enthralling training session known to woman (ahem) I started day dreaming.....as I do. Normally my day dreams are squarely centred around fleeting rendezvous with Wentworth Miller (Prison Break) but today I was day dreaming about my life on maternity leave - I know, it's a shock (anyone who knows me will tell you I am not stay-at-home-Mum material. Sad, I know).

Well, as of last week I was still looking at large quantities of spare time each day. My time. Sure, I have young children at home, so life is busy, but ultimately I still had chunks in my day where I could decide that it was time for a run on the treadmill, I could do weights in front of the TV, I could load the boys into my jogging pram and take them for a run. I also had time to grab a coffee with Sexy Twin, go shopping, read a chapter of a good book, blog uninterrupted, talk on the telephone and of course, make play dough (or egg carton caterpillar's as it may be).

I know that what I am about to say is taboo, and possibly an unpopular train of thought, but it's my blog and I'll risk it.....here goes......In my personal opinion and from my 3 1/2 years experience and 2 children (disclaimer: the view about to be expressed is subject to change if I deem fit, as more children come along) being at home, whilst hectic, chaotic and stressful at times, was still not as bad a gig as some make out to be.

I think there is a national consortium on how Mother's are 'supposed' to feel whilst at home. The image that runs through my head is a haggard, sleep deprived, no make-up, tracksuit pant wearing, breast milk crusted on my shoulder, spinach in my teeth, no time for a shower, coffee addicted, placenta brained, flabby mess. Truthfully, not every day is like this. In fact only one day a week is - MONDAY!

Sure, some days are harder than others (such is life), some days I want to sell Jim (he is 3 after all) on Feebay and some day's I want to lock myself in my room and have a good old cry, but mostly I find being at home pretty easy and for a good portion of my day I am able to dictate and control the events which occur around me. There are no Ministerial reports to be written, articles to be actioned for the media, investigations to pursue, arses to kiss, butts to wipe (Oh wait, yes there are). You get the idea though.

Well today as I sat in my uncomfortable chair, thinking about how much fun Muscle Man was probably having with Jim and Bob at home, and wondering when I'd fit my run in, I realised, this is life - again! This is the daily grind, and just like before, I have to schedule in time to run, time to exercise, time to make my healthy snacks and lunches, dinner menus on the go and clothes laid out, or in my worst case scenario - ironed - the night before work.

Yes, I am back to living in the land of the Weight Watchers motto:

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail!

Well, I'll be damned if I am a failure! No way, no how. Anyone who knows me will tell you I am a perfectionist (with the exception of housework) and once I make my mind up to do something, I generally do. In this case, my mind is made up to continue my exercise daily and manage a busy work and home life whilst trying (usually in vain) to achieve some balance.

So, the last two evenings after work I've come home, kissed all my boys, listened to tidbits on their enthralling and relaxing day (yes, I am jealous) as I strip my suit pants and jacket off, unzip my boots, change into my sports bra and proceed to grab my singlet and jogging pants. "Follow me and keep talking" is a common saying in my household. Muscle Man has been known to stand beside the treadmill, regaling me with anecdotes from his day whilst I slog out my 30 minute run and remind myself the benefits of making the time to do so.

Tonight I am going to soak in the tub and try and remind myself that after work is the daily grind of making time to exercise when all I feel like doing is begging Muscle Man for a foot rub, but tomorrow morning as I arrive at work I'll have the opportunity to drink the Arabica coffee beans and start all over again - hey, at least I am a fit and fabulous working Mum right? ;o)

My new dream accessory - Carson Kressley

Firstly, I'll spare you all the boring and mundane details regarding our phone and Internet connection, but let me say this - I hope it's possible to burn calories through anger (well, hey, if you can through typing then surely cursing at Telstra and stomping ones foot does also). Sadly, the interim fix is still only short term, dial-up connection, so the speed at which the Internet is running is fuelling frustration also (excellent, I've burnt 10 calories in anger today and 400 running!).

Before our phone line was so rudely interrupted and subsequently affected our Internet connection, I had been blogging about Carson Kressley (Queer Eye for the Straight Guy). I saw a brief segment on Oprah last week where she was doing a little expose of Carson's latest TV show - How to Look Good Naked.

Oooh, I love Carson!! I was watching the show and wishing I could have a handbag sized, personalised Carson to take me with on shopping trips and whip out whenever my confidence is low and needs refuelling with a little 'pep-talk' from the Queen himself. I envision he'd give me a brief slap upside the head before telling me how fabulous and stylish I was, not to mention how great my butt looks in those jeans today now that there is only two cheeks, not 4.

In my fantasy Carson would deck me out with lavish clothes (paid for by anyone but me), trendy hand bags, sexy shoes, snazzy belts, and a well fitted bust enhancing bra. Naturally, thanks to his styling skills and the token makeover, I'd look 2 sizes smaller, have sensational makeup and a bust I could once again see without the use of a magnifying glass. Once completed I'd pack my pint sized little Carson back into my handbag and keep him safe for the next rainy day.

Watching snippets from a show titled "How to Look Good Naked" got me thinking about my previous entry (What's the Goal) and my frustrations over all the many imperfections I am yet to feel completely at peace with. The main one being my mid-section. I must admit I am still largely undecided about the effort I am willing to put in at the moment. It's not that I don't want the flat stomach and perky butt - I SO DO - but I think I need to realise that I also want to learn how to be more content with the body I've got, and learn to feel genuinely sexy in my skin (yes, even the excess flap). I think I need to somehow learn to find peace with the imperfections on at least a semi-regular basis.

Cue my plan to pay a visit to a Rebel Sport outlet where I have hopes of purchasing a fabulous at home Yoga DVD! Surely being able to fold myself into a pretzel with the flexibility of a Circ De Solei performer will make up for the lack of a discernible six-pack (the abdominal kind- although the beverage would be appealing right now) and also provide some inner "shalom" peace, right? Either that or I'll master the down dog at last.

I am still planning to run almost daily and lift weights 2-3 times through the week, but I think it's time to mix things up a little. All this thought has posed the following questions for me this week:

1: Am I still enjoying my exercise of choice? Do I feel the pay off?
2: Is it time to up the anti? To increase the speed, distance, quantity?
3: Am I brave enough to try something new? To push out of the comfort zone and take a challenge?
4: What are my NEW goals?

What would your answers to the above be?

Oh, and on the Yoga front, if anyone has any suggestions for a good at home "Yoga for Dummies" DVD let me know :o)

I'm Alive

Faithful blog readers,

I'm alive and have not forgotten you. Our home net connection is down until Monday (am blogging from Nadi's). I will be back on Monday ASAP to blog my next update!! Exercise and weight loss continue to be as consuming as ever!!

Will be back Monday!!

Alf
xox

What's the Goal?

Over the last few weeks I have been giving "goals" quite a bit of thought so naturally, it's time to pen (type) the thoughts (disclaimer: they are not pretty thoughts and at times are completely self-indulgent - read on at own risk).

When I first started on my Fat to Fab expedition, my goal was simple. Lose weight (ta da). I even specified a goal weight 7kgs heavier than what I really needed to lose, just to ensure it was achievable. Truth be told, even then I actually did not think I could really achieve that goal! Sure, I desperately wanted to lose that weight, and more, but at that point in time I was so heavily cloaked in desperation that I would have settled for five, or at best 10 kilos. Anything beyond that was merely a bonus.

Well to my own applause, and amazement at times, I am sitting here now having achieved that goal and then some. HURRAH! However, despite the distance I have come, and the weight I have lost, I am still not quite satisfied. I find myself wondering if I truly ever will be, or will there to some degree always be flaws? New goals to consider? Pregnancy weight to loose? Cellulite on my bum? A lingering love handle....?

In my dreams (and so far only in my dreams) I have a washboard stomach so tight and toned that white shirts really are the new black. I have a tight and perky butt not an inch of cellulite to be seen, toned and slender thighs with that perfect muscular groove which signifies my athletic prowess, perfectly slender and toned arms without an inch of anything resembling a tuck-shop lady. When I flex, my muscles bulge (feminine like of course) and my whole body is tight enough to crack an egg on - and if I so desired, I could pull off swimmers - of any kind - in public!

The problem with this dream however (aside from the painstakingly obvious fact it is a dream), is that I am actually not 100% sure if I want to put in the effort it requires. I am not sure if I want to make the sacrifices needed to see these things become a reality. I am not sure if I can be arsed! (I am suffering from a lot of 'can't be arsedness' lately - the house looks like something fresh out of Baghdad as an example).

I know for so many people, simply losing weight and fitting into smaller clothes, picked straight off the rack, is the goal. And let's be honest, it's an awesome, self-satisfying, confidence boosting goal. Certainly not one to be sneezed at. I still get a buzz when I grab pants or tops straight off the rack in sizes small and medium and they not only fit, but they look good! It's a joy not to have to lie down on the change room floor and breathe in before using the wall as leverage to pull a pair of pants on.

The problem is however, now that I have essentially reached that goal, I am not sure where to go from here? I'll admit that at times my exercise regime is really only enough to sustain my lavish wine & cheese addiction (herein lies the problem). I know that at times I jog purely so I can enjoy dinner out with friends, or Muscle Man, without the conscious thoughts of the calories I consume. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy eating food I want, when I want, but in all honesty, it's only because I work my arse off that I can enjoy indulgent food without the lingering fear that tomorrow I might wake up with a 3rd butt cheek and a fat roll under my knee (HUGE irrational fear of mine).

It's funny you know, when I started this weight loss caper, I assumed that once the weight was off, I'd be able to hang up (or burn) the towel and the sweat bands and relish in my new found slenderness; whilst laying on the couch and watching day time TV. I was so very wrong.

Sure, many, many people can and do lose astronomical amounts of weight and maintain a leisurely lifestyle when it comes to exercise. Walking the dogs of an evening whilst having a gossip session with friends, a bike ride around the local bike paths with kids in tow, kicking a ball around the park. Trust me, these are all sensational forms of exercise and absolutely worthwhile, but some days as I am slogging out my 7kms on my treadmill (or the local footpaths), sweat beading off every surface and my breath coming hard and fast, I wonder what would happen if I stopped this? If I decided I'd had enough, I simply couldn't be arsed anymore.

My suspicion is that A) I'd be miserable! As much as some days I moan and carry on about jogging, (bitching about running, the entire run is common for me), the satisfaction and endorphins afterwards are entirely worth it. I also strongly believe it's this form of exercise that sees me get through each day without tying Jim to the wall with duct-tape Ala this style (boy oh boy that looks appealing).

and B) I think I would consume more calories than I'd be burning and therefore I have horrifying visions of having to drag the "fat pants" out of moth balls! That and the fat roll beneath the knee. *shudder*

Please don't get me wrong, I am still aware of the effort I put in every day and the changes I have made, but I am equally aware that it's also time to up the anti (again!! DAMN IT) if I want to push past this barrier and achieve the 'in my dreams' goals.

The question is, do I really want to? Can I really be bothered? Do I have it in me? Can I be arsed?

I guess stay tuned and we shall see!

******

**Muscle Man and I did not run the fun run! We opted for family brunch instead (I begged, he obliged). None the less, we ran around the lake this afternoon (7.3kms) and will probably send off a little donation to the cancer council to make up for what was no doubt our noticeable absence (*snort*).