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*).

Bob on a Blob

When I was about 13, Sexy Twin, myself and a good friend of ours had this brilliant idea! We decided we'd make, and bury, a time capsule (see, brilliant!).

I can't recall why we had this little stroke of genius, but I recall vividly the teenage excitement that comes from an idea you are convinced is the best in the World! There was squealing, giggling and lots of "Right, let's do this".

We set about collecting the items we would bury as our hidden treasure. We included Hubba Bubba bubble gum (ahh, such childhood memories), Tazo's (you know, the ones that came inside chip packets), a 50c stamp, a bus ticket (wow, we were creative), a photo of the three of us, a nice wordy letter to the lucky (indeed) finders of our capsule, and a lock of each of our hair.

Sexy Twin and friend plucked one tiny little tendril of hair, tied a delicate ribbon around it and placed it in our capsule (which was a Twinning tea tin by the way). I on the other hand, always trying to get a laugh, even at my own expense, lopped off half my ponytail (it was actually an accident). As I stood in front of the mirror holding a large chunk of my hair, I began to wonder what my long hair would look like short? Well, anyone who knows me will tell you, I am the horse that can be led to water AND made to drink. I'll take up a dare faster than you can issue a physical challenge, and if I think laughter is involved, I'll dare myself. So, when Sexy Twin and friend suggested we cut my hair off, I giggled and said "Heck, let's do it".

Half an hour later my so called sister and friend were writhing around on the floor, amidst strands of my hair, in peals of laughter. Meanwhile I was sitting in front of the mirror crying and laughing at the same time. The left side of my hair was sitting flush to my ear and the right side was still mid way down my back. Apparently the look was so funny my hairdressers could not even continue the task. After a further 20 minutes of laughter, friend again began the chop. This scenario continued for quite some time.

After the final strand had been cut and the tears of laughter (theirs) and the tears of distress (mine) were wiped from our eyes, we assessed the finished product. Sexy twin and I were no longer identical twins, we were now fraternal uni-sex twins. She being the girl, and me the boy! Luckily I am a good sport and within a few short months all was forgiven and I had begun to adjust to my crew-cut.

Last Friday I decided it was time for a change. I was booked in for a colour with Angel and decided that maybe, just maybe, I should be brave and lop the locks! My hair was the longest it has ever been and in some small way seemed reflective of my weight loss journey. Ever since my scarring haircut at the tender age of 13, I had kept my hair relatively short. In College I sported a bob (which Muscle Man called the Bob on a Blob - lucky I love him!). After College my hair was still only touching my shoulders, and for much of the last 6 or so years it had been no longer than this length.

Yes, somehow my long hair signified the changes in me. The changes in my weight. I think unintentionally I had concluded that I couldn't have long hair as I was not skinny enough to pull off the long blonde tresses Sexy Twin did, and has for the majority of our lives. I had unintentionally decided that short hair was suitable for me, and that the "Bob on the Blob" was exactly how I felt.

After much thought, and open discussion with relative strangers on the Essential Baby website, I decided I would probably cut my hair. Sitting in the chair at Angel's salon I decided to risk it. It's only hair right!? A few hours later I left the salon and burst into tears. Angel did a brilliant job. The colour was perfect, the cut sheek, yet all I could see was remnants of my past. The big girl sporting the short hair.

I call these my "Fat goggles". We've all heard of the beer goggles but how many of us acknowledge that we also, at times, look at ourselves through Fat goggles? We see ourselves entirely different to others, or indeed to the simple reality of how we really look. I look in the mirror and see a bulging and intrusive curve where my waist meets my hips. Muscle Man looks at the same spot and sees his sexy wife with a gorgeous curvaceous body. As he'd say - curves in all the right places. I look at my new short do and see glimpses of unhappy times. Times where my cheeks were so big they gave my blow dried and pooffed up hair a run for it's volumising money. Times where I slumped around wearing Muscle Man's giant jumpers and tracksuit pants to hide the bulges. Times where my head was a little blonde bob on a round and 'lumpy' body.

Yes, my fat goggles at times live on. But, as I learn to style and love my hair cut, I am also learning to acknowledge these past feelings and thoughts, ponder them for a minute, feel the emotions that came with them and then gently release them (who am I kidding, they are getting an arse kicking to the curb). After all, I am NO longer a bob on a blob!

*** I should add - the time capsule was burried, well over 10 years ago now. I think houses were built on the spot, so a perfectly good packet of grape Hubba Bubba went to waste!





*** OK, here's a pic since you asked so nicely. It's not as short as it could be - but I had roughly 20cm chopped, if not more :o)

I'm being Published!!

OK, OK, so that is a gross exaggeration, but hey, it's my blog and I'll lie if I want to!

Truth be told though, I received an email today from a lovely women over at Readers Digest, advising me that a comment I emailed in response to an article in the June edition of HEALTH SMART magazine is being printed in their next publication!

Muscle Man's first response was "Cool, do you get paid". My response "No dear, this is not the Mere Male section in the Women's Weekly, but if you want a cash payment for my thoughts, give me some ammunition".

Anyway, the email prompted me to re-read the article and familiarise myself with why I liked it enough to send off one of those sappy "I simply love your magazine" emails. You know the kind, dripping with sweet insincerity and unashamedly pleading for the letter of the month prize - which let's face it - am I the only one who is totally over Avon's Anew line?

Anyway, the article, titled "Scare Tactics" by Jean Kitson was an amusing, honest and witty diatribe (no wonder I loved it). I'll quote some hilarity below.

...I have a health regime of gym three times a week, followed by coffee. Sometimes, (isn't modern life busy) I go straight to coffee, which is where my gym buddy found me wondering what more I could do to improve my health.

She laughed so much she had to bend over and cross her legs.

"Your favourite exercise is sleeping in. You think a balanced diet is if your coffee and chocolate croissant don't slip off your tray. You forget to eat lunch and you always have more than one glass of wine with your dinner, which is often pork spare ribs".

I was gobsmacked!

This mockery came from a women who eats for breakfast homemade organic Bircher muesli with hand-ground organic almonds and chopped organic apple, with a cup of organic echinacea tea! Her colon may have biceps, her naval actually makes contact with her backbone when she smiles, and she looks younger than her teenage daughter, but I don't call her attitude healthy.

...I blame her false sense of superiority on the health-scare industry, specifically the "food frighteners" division.

...I work with an otherwise sane women, who puzzles me. There isn't a food group this women hasn't given up in a panic at some time or other,
and taken up again in a panic when she needed it to stay alive. She's dropped carbs, taken up nothing but carbs, dropped carbs between 3.45am and 3.58am, but only under a full moon after sacrificing a goat.

Her food pyramid consists of a vast monolith of fear with a tiny topping of loathing.

We need a healthy balance in our thinking about diet. ...For all the billions of alarming words written about health, and all the government scare campaigns and witch-hunts and glossy guilt trips, they have collectively DONE BUGGER ALL to improve the health of Australians.

They do have some impact. Many health promotions have led to anxiety, neuroses, anorexia, bulimia, depression, poor self-image, malnutrition, scurvy, binge eating, seven sorts of fatigue syndrome, and mountains of untouched little plastic salads in McDonald's.

...diet has become such an obsession that we can't go out for a meal without weighing up the kilojoules, cholesterol, fat and sugar content, and regarding the menu as a personal insult.

There is even a health promotion day warning us against health promotions. It's called 'International No Diet Day'. You can just hear people in Somalia or Congo saying, "International No Diet Day? What, again?".

Why don't we just lighten up and call it Why Not Pig Out Day? or Eat whatever You Like Day? or simply Binge Day? I'll tell you, it's because the food frighteners don't want us to lighten up, in any sense, or we might realise that there is no goblin lurking in the fridge that we cannot cheerfully, personally, control.

This is only a small extract of this fabulous article. To read more you might have to spend 10 minutes in the newsagents pretending to scan the magazines whilst you read this article (page 74). You could be incidentally squeezing your butt cheeks together at the same time - which I have read is great for toning your derriere (wish I could personally vouch for it's success, but alas, no butt squeezing in newsagents for me - trust me though, I NEED TO!).

I can't really for the life of me recall what my exact response was but I am confident it was along the lines of "Great article, loved it, can I have some Avon Anew please?".

With all sincerity though, I did think it was a great read. We are a society that is driven by the latest "diet", or the need to "diet". Surely, any recognition that we need to relax and focus on a healthy LIFESTYLE is worth a veiled attempt at "Letter of the Month" right? :o)

Disclaimer: Health Smart magazine offers no prize for letter of the month (tight arses).

Incidental Exercise

Before I start this entry I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for all the amazing and humbling comments which have been left on my blog! I really appreciate it and they mean a great deal to me :)

My cousin (Dad's-sisters-daughter for anyone who cared to know) is a dietitian. Whilst she was completing her 6 week practical experience at the local hospital before her final graduation, she stayed with Muscle Man and I. Neither Jim or Bob were on the scene at this stage so it was a leisurely 6 weeks of 'wine time' after work, where 'cuz' and I would sit back with a plate of cheese, biscuits, olives, salami and a glass of chardy and talk about our days (all whilst barking orders at Muscle Man to "hurry up" with dinner - or the peeled grapes and palm frond - whichever came first!).

I spent hours quizzing her on aspects of her work, healthy eating, nutrition, allergies, and so forth. I think on a sub-conscious level I was hoping that merely talking with her would suck the excess fat right off me and evaporate it into the ether (clutching at straws much).

One of the things she mentioned during wine time, which has always stuck with me was in regards to 'incidental' exercise. Cousin pointed out to me (twas probably a subtle hint) that realistically there are times during each day, for all of us, where we can be incidentally attempting to tone our butt, tighten our abs and shed the fat; all whilst sipping on a latte and chatting on our mobile phones. Sadly though I am not referring to the little electronic nodes you can attach to your tummy ala: Kath & Kim to jiggle your way to a 6 pack (if only!).

At the time I poo-poohed this notion as I wrapped an olive in a slice of salami, covered each side with a piece of cheese before proceeding to add two layers of jatz biscuits to make a sandwich. Through a full mouth I cynically muttered "Yeah right cuz" and poured myself another wine.

We've all heard it right. At Weight Watchers meetings they casually slip it into every talk, A Current Affair and other such reputable shows (ahem) have a segment on it weekly, Dr Phil's diet book refers to it, even midwives suggest it (OK, they are talking about different muscles, but those ones require tone too). Incidental Exercise!

The suggestions to park the car further away, dabble in the garden, kick a ball around with the kids, take the stairs instead of the lift, hop off the bus or train a few stops before your usual drop off, go shopping (hey, I like this one). I realise it sounds trite, but I do believe that for many of us (myself included) this is the place to start.

As much as we all wish we could be naturally athletic and svelte with the ability to rest our entire body weight on the tip of our thumb (or is that just me?) sadly, some just aren't, and possibly never will be. When I first started to battle the bulge I would convince myself that walking 20 metres (and that is exaggerating) out my front door, to check my mail counted as my daily exercise. Talking on the phone, or typing emails counted too!

In all honesty though I did start taking the stairs, and on my many shopping expeditions I would find myself walking to the travellator at the opposite end of the mall in an attempt to get the heart rate past 80 beats per minute (my resting heart rate is about 70).

Even though I post in jest regarding hanging washing on the line and shopping, I am actually serious. We all know that at some stage the 'anti' has to be upped, but when you are starting out, walking from the car to work (rather than having your own Muscle Man drop you at the front entrance as I did), or taking stairs instead of the lift - is upping the anti!

So, for anyone who has not started with the Olympic marathon training (raises hand), and for anyone who is focusing on food choices as step number one (great work), let me encourage you to make some time each day for some incidental exercise. Oh and yes, sex counts!

********

On a side note, Muscle Man and I are joining some friends of ours this coming Saturday for a 5 or 10km fun run (haven't decided which as yet) to raise money for some random charity (must be important). Muscle Man has assured me he will pull his weight and push the pram at least half the distance. Usually I get stuck with the cumbersome thing for most of the 'family' jogs we partake together. He has also assured me he will not bleat at me like a ewe to keep up with his pace (which is a laugh as usually I slow up for him). I kindly reminded him his forte is lifting large pieces of aluminium and steel at the gym - not carving up the local footpath - he went silent!

I must admit though, I am super excited we are doing this one together and I am even more excited that after my personal successes in the Mothers Day Classic I am still keen for more rather than taking my bat and ball after my one good inning! :o)

Will let you all know how I/we go after the event (oh, and I'll blog again before then too).

My Rest Day!

I have a confession.........I'm a terrible fat-to-fab-Mamma at heart!

It's hard for me to write this here, it's hard for me to admit that at times, I too struggle with healthy eating and exercise. Hard to admit how much I still love the 'empty' calories in a glass or two of wine. How much I love real buttered popcorn and cream sauce based pasta! How much I enjoy slothing around the house in my pyjamas without a scrap of makeup and a great book in hand. (OK, I lie, I have a scrap of makeup on).

As much as I love the feeling I get after running, or lifting weights, the feelings generally come AFTER or part-way through. Until then it's a damn hard slog. Physically and mentally!

Meanwhile, a superb Merlot can be enjoyed the minute you open the bottle and get that initial waft of fermented grapes tinged with a hint of oaky spice. Or the second you walk into the movie theatre and feel the salty aroma of fresh popcorn smothered in butter and salt, tickling your senses and arousing your taste buds. They require little effort and can in many cases provide instantaneous comfort! Sadly though, they won't keep you fit!

It's funny you know, I used to see myself as a fat girl with a skinny one trapped inside. I knew that deep down, if you waded through the oceans of fat, I had a skinny me just dying to be unleashed. Dying to take my fat arse shopping, and dying to demonstrate self-control when faced with situations where I invariably let loose and would have my cake AND eat it too!

Now days I sometimes feel like I have a fat chick inside dying to let loose and gorge everything within a 5 mile radius! Dying to take a whole week (I lie, try a month - or a lifetime) off exercise, guilt free. Dying to justify being lazy and spending my days lounging around the house as I enjoy all the forbidden foods (and then try and blame it on a snake....or a male).

Tonight I have a confession......I donned my kompressors (hmmm, do I admit this.....compression based Lycra leggings which enable faster recovery after weight lifting and running - geek, I know!). My sweat bands were on, the treadmill was rolled into place and I had shipped Muscle Man, Jim and Bob out the door so I could get a 30 minute run without the interruption of family (more like so they don't see my arse bounce as I run). My iPod was charged, my favourite DVD series (Desperate Housewives) was in the player, and subtitles on. Yes, I was set to go.

Not 3 minutes into my run, I turned the 'mill off, folded it up, packed it away and sent Muscle Man a text message asking him to return as soon as possible with a bottle of Merlot, a movie and something for dessert!

Each time I have talked about "self-talk" I too need to take stock. I must admit that my self-talk these day's, whilst kinder, is also unrelenting when it comes to exercise. I find it quite hard at times to allow myself a 'rest-day', or treats without guilt. I am working on it though (easier said with a delish glass of wine in hand).

So, next time you have one of those days where you (like me) reach for the Merlot instead of the sweat bands, remind yourself it's OK because you'll hit the ground running tomorrow and some treats are simply to good to resist. Especially when you've earned them!

My Light Bulbs (For Nayes)

Over the years, I have had many 'light-bulb' moments.

Seeing photos of myself and realising I had barely fit in the frame of the lens, trying in vain to make my favourite pair of pants fit, seeing my refection in the shop window's at the local mall, having mirrored wardrobes in our bedroom...

Yep, there were many times where I had the "I have to lose weight' bulb go off. Sadly though, thinking it, and acting on it were two different things for me.

I, like so many others, suffered from "I'm gonna" syndrome. All talk and no action. Each new diet would begin with a list of "I'm gonna's". I am going to eat less today. I am going to exercise. I am not going to eat chocolate. I am going to be kinder to myself. I am going to eat more fruit and veg. Yep, so often it was all talk and no action.

So, how did the light switch finally stay on you may ask. You know, it's amazing for me to think about also. At times I really am just so shocked that I finally did succeed. Even when I started my journey to weight loss, better health (and habits) in June 2006, I still didn't actually think I would succeed. I desperately wanted too, but then I can honestly say I had desperately wanted too prior to that moment also, and failed. I simply assumed I would fail again.

I think for me, buying my treadmill was honestly one of the biggest factors in my choice to get serious about battling the bulge. It was such a vivid reminder each day. I'd walk into the lounge room and my treadmill would be staring at me. Calling for me to use it. To grease the belt, to wear tread marks in the mat. To push myself to my limits, and maybe one day wear the motor out from all the kilometres I'd walk/run to get into shape. I couldn't ignore the blatantly obvious fact, I no longer had a valid (were they ever) excuse to not exercise.

When I began making changes in June, I kept a journal. At the time my journal, alongside the treadmill, were my lifelines. They were the two things which reminded me each and every day that I was trying to make a difference, and I owed it to myself (and Muscle Man's bonus - which bought the 'mill) to make this work.

Each day I would write the following headings and record my thoughts/actions/intake in regards to each:

Food

Mood

Challenges

Exercise

Beverage Consumption (yep, I even wrote beverage - not just water - allowing for the vino!).

***********

Diary entry - Day 1 - 06 June, 2006

Challenges:

Actually getting on the bloody treadmill. I DON'T want to exercise. I want to wake up tomorrow and simply be the skinny girl I know is inside. THIS SUCKS!

***********

Diary entry - 11 June, 2006

This bites. Not even a week in and I am over it. Would love to drive to Hungry Jack's and chow down a Whopper burger, washed down with a Junior Whopper, and finished off with a caramel sundae. However, I have made smarter food choices and will continue to try too.

No exercise today. Can't be arsed.

**********

Diary Entry - June 14, 2006

Feeling better today. Walked on the treadmill for an hour yesterday. Still look the size of an Island but I am determined to make it a tiny one. According to 'A La Google' the World's smallest Island is called "Bishop Rock Island". They have standing room only on this Island. Yep, that's my new goal! Standing room only!

**********

Diary Entry - July 04, 2006

OK, so I got lazy with filling in my food diary :o) I've still been pretty good though (with the exception of cream based cocktails out with the girls on the weekend. Not to mention the drunken stop over at the Pizza van, and the token, must have, 'night out on town' kebab!). I've been exercising pretty much every day and am starting to feel so much better for it. I can already feel the difference in my energy levels.

Have my period at the moment so am feeling rather bloated and ergh! Determined to stay on track though and not resort to my typical monthly comfort binge.

Goals as follows: Sisters wedding. Yummy Mummy. Better pregnancy than Jim, and to be the size of Bishop Island!

***********

A typical day for me before June 2006, included foods such as hamburgers, chips, milkshakes, anything deep fried, portion overload, and everything with sugar or salt added. These days I eat foods such as the following:

Breakfast:
2 slices multi-grain toast with 2 poached eggs. No butter, pinch of salt.
2 slices multi-grain toast with thin spread of butter and Vegemite

1 cup of high fibre cereal (I try and get the ones with the least added sugar)

1 cup of cooked oats with a sprinkle of brown sugar or chopped banana and honey

Fruit smoothie. 1 Cup low fat milk, 2 tbs yogurt, sprinkle of cinnamon, 1tsp vanilla essence, 2tbs All Bran, 1 tbs honey, 1/2 cup of frozen mixed berries, or a banana.

Morning snack:
Fruit (either fresh or tinned)
Yogurt (I don't even bother with the low fat stuff - give me dairy farmers any day)
Vita wheat biscuits with low fat cheese (any savoury biscuits will do really)
1 serve of popcorn (You can buy the individual microwave portion sizes in packets of 5)
Handful of almonds and dried fruit
Celery or carrot sticks with tomato salsa or homus
Low fat muffin (I generally prefer the savoury option -will post a recipe for a spinach and feta one)
1 slice bread or toast with topping (i.e low fat cheese/jam/lite peanut butter)
Tin of tuna or salmon

* Depending on what I choose from the above list, I may have more than one item listed.

Lunch:
Multi-grain sandwich with meat and salad - ham, turkey, chicken. 1 tsp chutney or low fat mayo, or thin spread of margarine
Tuna or salmon salad (I make the garden salad and then mix tuna or salmon through and drizzle with balsamic or any oil free dressing)
2-3 Ryvita with sliced tomato, ham and low fat cheese
2-3 Ryvita with cream cheese (lite), tomato and cracked pepper
Steamed veggies with tuna or salmon (surprisingly mixing a tin of tuna through steamed peas and corn is really good)
I usually eat a piece of fruit with lunch each day.

Afternoon Snack:

Same as morning. If I am really hungry I will focus on the low GI foods - almonds, brown rice (90 second microwave stuff is fab), multi-grain vita wheat's etc.

Dinner:
Steamed fish and veggies (the birds eye microwave fish are great and taste surprisingly good when mixed through a garden salad or served on top).
Grilled or baked chicken with veggies or salad
Low fat lasagna (instead of cheese in each layer I use low fat ricotta and only cheese on the last layer)
Slow cooked meals like stews, apricot chicken, soups.
Homemade beef burgers with salad on wholemeal/multi-grain bread or rolls
Tuna casseroles
Grilled steak with veggies or salad

After dinner snack:
Weigh watchers chocolate mousse or ice-cream
home made low fat scone (my recipe uses no butter and wholemeal flour)
anything from the morning or afternoon snack list

Throughout the day I drink water, cordial, tea and coffee.

To be honest, when it came to the final 'light-bulb' I just knew I HAD to make it stay on. Younger sisters wedding certainly provided some inspiration I should add. The thought of being the "fat" bridesmaid was enough to scare me into submission.

I highly recommend keeping a journal to record and reflect your food intake, your exercise and the challenges you face. Over time, I'll post more of my reflections. Some make me cringe, some make me want to slap myself upside the head and have a mental hug at the same time, and others, well they simply make me laugh :o)

The trick is making the choice to switch your light bulb on and believing in yourself enough to let it glow!

My Favourite Low -Fat Winter Soup Recipe

OK, so as requested, here is my first recipe.

This is the perfect low-fat, healthy, vegetarian soup to warm up with on those winter days! It's also very filling unlike the 'soup diet' versions!

Red Lentil & Vegie Soup

1 tbs olive oil
1 onion finely chopped
1 carrot finely chopped
1 celery stick finely chopped
1 parsnip chopped (like potato salad chunks)
1 clove garlic crushed
1/2 tsp cumin powder or seeds
2/3 cup red lentils
3 cups stock or water (any stock is fine/as is water)
salt/pepper to taste
1 tbs lemon juice

Throw ALL ingredients in a saucepan (or slow cooker) and leave to simmer for 40-60 minutes! When I make this soup I actually use about 3x's the ingredients listed above :)

Yep, this one is a fav!

Self-talk (For Judi)

We all do it. Some positive, some negative. I spent many years (and still do at times) criticising my self and down-playing my abilities on a regular basis.

To be honest, for me, my success with weight loss and my new active lifestyle, have everything to do with the way I changed my self-talk.

To anyone looking at me, they would have seen what I portrayed. I have always been vivacious, opinionated, LOUD and many times over my life I have appeared to exude confidence. There were also times where I genuinely have felt good about myself. My wedding day, my Yr 10 and 12 graduation formals, and the occasional night out on the town! All events involving some dutch courage I should add!

On the inside however I was constantly aware of my own flaws. My tuck shop arms, a butt that required it's own postcode, and cheeks that were giving a puffer fish a run for their money! I compensated for all these things by wearing big clothes, too much rouge on my cheeks, and long sleeves all the time.

I absolutely despised summer as it was the one season in the year where I felt like I couldn't hide my secret shame. I couldn't get away with wearing a trench coat in 38 degree heat without the consequence of heat stroke. Even though Muscle Man and I do not live near the beach, I'd go to great lengths to ensure we travelled there, or to any other body of water for that matter, as rarely as possible. Up until recently I've sported one thing in common with Nicole Kidman. Deathly pale skin. Yep, it simply never saw the light beneath the layers.

Who remembers that fashion trend a few years back where wearing anything resembling a pirate was tres cool?! You know, puffs and plooms were making their appearance on the catwalk and incidentally in our shops! I LOVED this fashion trend. Pirate shirts were a relative of the Kaftan, only one was momentarily socially acceptable. Well for this fleeting summer, I felt like I belonged. The satin poofs on the front of my latest Pirate Pete ensemble were an excellent guise for the fat rolls and donuts around my mid-section, and the puffy sleeves hid a myriad of flaws in my ever growing arms. Oh, and whilst I am taking a walk down fashion memory lane, how great were happy pants when it came to hiding the happy hips! Yes, good times!

I was chatting to Muscle Man and Sexy Twin about self talk recently, and Muscle Man reminded me that it took me the better half of a year to actually take stock and really acknowledge the extent to which I sabotaged myself. After all, he would know given he was really the only person I ever verbalised my self image issues too.

The poor guy would get home from work and walk in to find his wife with her head stuck in a bucket of ice-cream. Or worse still crumbs of food stashed around my shirt which I'd declare I was saving for later, horrified at the fact my daily binge had been discovered. Muscle Man would then spend the next 20 minutes assuring me I was not a fat slob, I was worthy, I was lovable, I wasn't the size of a blue or humpback whale.

All the while however his words were going in one ear and straight out the other. How could I absorb what he was saying when I didn't even begin to believe the words I heard.
Sadly I realised that it was I who had to change. I had to start telling myself those things Muscle Man was, even if I didn't believe them myself to begin with.

In one of my many attempts at frightening myself thin (if only) I wrote notes to myself (Yep, I did this often) and placed them in obvious places around the house. Sadly however these notes were not the "You can do it kind". No, they were the "You are a failure", "You are so fat", "You don't deserve to be happy or confident". I realise now that this was the exact reason I did FAIL every time. I didn't even have an ounce of belief in my ability. Whatever belief I once possessed had been slowly, but surely and harshly stripped. I was 100% negative towards myself. I had nothing nice to say to Alfie at all.

I wish I could say that the change occurred quickly. I really do. Because then in some ways I'd feel better knowing that the quantity of time we spend berating ourselves might be less. Sadly though it comes down to breaking of a habit. A really bad habit.

So, how did I do it. Well, slowly. It would start with the smallest things. In the morning I would wake up and feel determined to eat well and shake my booty (yeah, well that happened even when I wasn't trying). By midday the negative thoughts would begin to creep in... "You can't do this, you have tried before. You failed then, and you will fail now". It took all my strength to retort with an aggressive backhand "Yes, you can". Within seconds the ball would be back in my court with another attack "eat the chocolate, eat the chocolate, eat the chocolate", again, I'd line the shot up and as fiercely as I wanted to succeed I would respond "No, eat the apple".

I guess in many ways it does come down to that little old word, choice! As much as self criticism had become an intrinsic part of me, I just simply did not want to believe that this was it. I was far too young to continue to allow my past failures to dictate my future successes. I simply had to choose to push myself out of the comfort zone and equip myself with the strength and belief to fight back each and every time I put myself down.

I have to be honest and say that for me, a driving force has also been the fact that as a parent I believe in parenting by example. In that regard I questioned my own ability to provide genuine confidence and healthy self esteem to my children, if I was unable to do the same for myself. Since having Jim and Bob I have become so much more attuned to the importance of teaching these basic, yet long-lasting principles. I had to lead by example. I had to learn to love myself.

On a simplistic level, I can suggest the following:

When you start to say to yourself "I can't" try and program yourself to instantly say "YES, I CAN". You may not believe it at first, but once you SEE that you can, the belief is self motivated. Not only CAN you, but you ARE!

When you start to reach for the food for comfort, find some substitutes that will still allow you the 'comfort' you may be craving. For example, my crutch - chocolate (whose isn't!). Until I had a handle on the emotional eating I replaced REAL chocolate with the fake stuff. Weight Watchers chocolate mousses, carob coated liquorice, a low fat hot chocolate. As much as it sucks to try indulge in something which contains a measly 2 points on the weight watchers points scale, the satisfaction that comes from knowing you chose the lesser of two evils is a self-belief booster in itself.

And my 3rd simplistic thought: Every morning you wake up tell yourself that YOU ARE WORTHY. YOU ARE CAPABLE. I challenge you to stand in front of your mirror and mouth these words to yourself. And each time you do, I want you to know that I also think you are worthy and capable. I really do.

I know the battle feels long but the ending is yours to claim victoriously. You just have to start.

Quizz Me

Hello my faithful fab readers,

I apologise for the lapse in my blog over the last few days. Muscle Man is away on business again (Nardi is convinced he is an Air Marshall he travels so much) but alas, he is off gallivanting the country, wining and dining with clients, and overall having at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep in some posh hotel room. Damn him!

Meanwhile, I am at home with a cheeky 3 yr old who keeps telling me he is trying to "behave" (yeah right), a 7 month old who has his seventh tooth coming through, and a cat who is painstakingly annoying at any given time of the day! Again, damn him (Muscle Man that is).

I was pondering my blog earlier today (as I do) and was thinking that I am determined NOT to turn this into another "Dear Diary" style of writing (or reading). Some times my days are as boring as watching paint dry, and I simply can't bear to do myself, or you, an injustice by writing about such monotonous things. Imagine, it would read like this:

Dear Diary,

Today I woke up and ate a piece of multi-grain bread and a poached egg. Then I packed the dishwasher and in my usual state, being 'dazed and confused', I packed Bob in there alongside the dishes. Oops. After this I decided coffee was in order.

An hour later with coffee coursing through my veins, I decided to attempt to clean the house...an hour later I woke up in time for Dr Phil. Again, Oops.

This afternoon I managed to coax Jim into having a sleep (lured him into his room and then sprinted for the door before he could say "Mum, where are you going?" and jumped on my treadmill for a 45 minute run.

Then for dinner I ate 3 pieces of fish smothered in tarter sauce, a trough of salad, a dozen baked potatoes and a chocolate mousse for dessert.

Yes, all in all a good day (bar dinner, Bob in the dishwasher and the house in it's usual state).

End entry.

Yes, let's be honest, NO ONE wants to read that every day! I am almost cringing writing it!

Given my whole desire is to write about weight loss and the things which I find hard, the aspects which I enjoy, the "can't be arsed moments" I want to make sure each entry is worthy of reading and possibly provides a glimmer of inspiration along the way (Hmm is that self-serving I wonder?).

Anyway, with that in mind I thought maybe I would put it out there to you guys to give me some good suggestions, ideas, or even questions you may have regarding my thoughts and ideas on weight loss, exercise, goal setting...

If there are things you struggle with, questions regarding exercise routines, foods I eat, recipes I cook, movie reviews, my thoughts on Peter Everett and Global Warming - I'll answer (OK, with the execption of Global Warming).

And of course, if no one has any suggestions, that's cool too. I'll be back with own attempt at a witty diatribe rabbiting on about my journey from Fat to Fab!

Until then, keep taking those baby steps :o)

Just Do It!

"Just Do It"- the Nike slogan! It's brilliant.

Over the past year, I've adopted my own personal motto; Motivation is fleeting, choice is constant.

For me, almost every diet or attempt at weight loss came with a preconceived expectation that motivation would follow. I was convinced that once day 1 was done and dusted the realisation I was capable would precede, and with it a shot of motivation like a cattle prod to the arse, undoubtedly spurring me on to become a svelte and self-controlled vixen. It never happened. Motivation never came.

Each diet would begin with the best of intentions. I would plan my meals and activities, write words of affirmation to myself and pin them around the house. The back of the toilet door covered in A4 paper reminding me I was worthy, and no longer desired thighs that bellowed over the seat and touched the floor when I sat down to pee. I'd write goals down and tape them to the bedroom mirror. Goals such as lose weight off my face so I can save money on foundation. The kitchen cupboard doors would be lined with reminders NOT to eat unless I was genuinely hungry, and even then to not hoover the contents like a trusty Dyson.

The start of the week would begin with desires to intentionally exercise 4 times a week minimum (the usual chocolate to lips bicep curl not counting). And naturally chocolate, chips and cheese were banned and indeed evicted from the house! Sadly, by midday of day 1, I'd have driven to the local shops and stocked up on all my 'banned items', exercise was non-existent and motivation nowhere to be found.

Motivation is a funny old thing, we all desire it for various, and often unappealing, activities. I have often lamented that if I could bottle the stuff I'd be somewhere on the Caribbean, cocktail in hand, liposuction and tummy tuck behind me, breast implants in front, and a bank account brimming with mula waiting to be spent. However, at this stage the only bottled motivation (aka: amphetamines) are illegal and the real (non-drug-induced) feeling can not be bottled or sold. Regretfully more often than not it is a fleeting feeling that if not acted on almost immediately, vacates before the opportunity has been plucked, possibly never to return again.

Every day I wake hoping that today will be the day I am motivated to clean, motivated to cook, motivated to sort Jim's cupboard out, and motivated to finally take my bag of "fat clothes" to the local Salvo's. The reality unfortunately being that I wake and morph into a sea lion who wants nothing more than a lazy day on the beach and the occasional swim.

So, what can you do when motivation has taken a long vacation, or perhaps never plans to visit in the first place? Well for me, I had to realise that motivation is a state of mind. It's a choice. Every day I am capable of making choices. Every day I am in control of the choices I make. Every day I can choose to strive for the right choices.

Muscle Man, Jim, Bob and I have had a very lazy day today. Muscle Man and I slothed about on the couch watching DVD's whilst the boys had their afternoon nap. Earlier in the day we deliberately went out for brunch so someone else could make our meals, and as usual, we left the house in the state it was in last week after cyclone Jim's latest encounter. The most productive thing I'd done by 3pm was to clean the dashboard of our car with a stray (unused) nappy wipe! So, naturally when Muscle Man toyed with the idea of jogging around the lake this afternoon, I laughed. The conversation went like this:

Muscle Man: Should we jog today babe?

Me: Ha ha ha ha ha ha you're so funny......oh, you mean it?

Muscle Man: Yep, why not. We probably should, don't you think?

Me: Hmmmmm, can you jog on my behalf for me, oh and whilst your at it, can you spend 30 minutes lifting weights, complete a decent set of Ab's workout, take the washing off the line, get dinner on the go, fold the nappies in the lounge, clean the car out, change the sheets on our bed, wash and dry my hair, shave my legs......

Muscle Man: No way, you can shave your own legs! I ain't touching those plaited, hairy, sticks of yours!

Me: You think my legs look like sticks? Yahoo, awesome, love ya babe! OK, let's get ready for that jog shall we.

And off we set! Rugging the kidlets up and grabbing our iPods we set off in our now nappy wipe scented car to the local lake, all the while Muscle Man and I having numerous thoughts about heading home and returning to our self declared grooves on the couches and the services of Pizza Hut online.

40 minutes later we were again back in the car, heading home, sweat beading of our faces and the car fogging up with the combination of extreme cold and humidity we were exuding from our strong and adrenalin fuelled bodies. As we neared home, I leaned into Muscle Man and said "Yep, choice, we have it EVERY day, motivation - never".