Labour Pains

OK, first and foremost - I am not pregnant! Now that that is out of the way, onto the topic.

Given July is the month of sobriety and attempts to lose the weight that's recently found me, I have decided to up the anti with my workouts.  I realise I could also stop upping my food intake, but my motto has always been 'one change at a time' (Gee, no wonder the weight found me - I was clearly to busy stuffing my face to hide from it!).  

So, in the name of all that is 'upping-the-anti', last week I decided to mix up my workout routine slightly and attend my local gymnasiums I.C.E class. I.C.E stands for "Indoor Cycling Experience", but should actually be an acronym for "Imminent Cardial Infarction Experience (awaits)". 

I loathe spin classes. Correction - I absolutely, unequivocally, irrefutably DISDAIN them. I knew this before I decided to participate in this class and yet somehow, I had lulled myself into a false sense of security thinking that perhaps every other time I've attended spin and hated it, I was either imagining the depth of hatred I felt, or perhaps doing something wrong. (I blame Romy and Michelle's Highschool Reunion for leading me to believe they were an easy class, whose mandatory footwear was a pair of high-heeled pumps fresh from the 90's, teamed with a sequined sports bra).

When Sexy Twin and I attended Boot Camp (aka: Golden Door Health Retreat) in the Hunter Valley in January, we made the same mistake of participating in a spin class only to be utterly tortured by our PT. As it turned out he was training for the Tour de France and using our spin class as his own personal training session! Last weeks I.C.E class turned out to be no exception.

In the midst of a 12 minute straight hill climb I didn't know whether to swear, throw-up, slap the instructor, cry, commence cardial infarction, or F: all of the above.  My glasses fogged up from the sweat and the steam I generated, and my ample derriere perched upon a seat no bigger than a hairbrush, reminded me of it's ampleness the entire ride.  The funny thing was once the class was over the pain all but dissipated and a strange sense of achievement washed over me. 

Later as I whinged to Muscle Man about my bruised posterior, I quipped that to me a spin class is like the early stages of labour.  The minute it begins you are reminded how shockingly bad it is.  You recall with sudden clarity the agony you will feel, and the marathon that's ahead.  You remember that relief only comes with the scream for "MORE DRUGS", or the end of the class. And yet when it's all finished and the experience has passed you by, you wonder how bad it really was...and somehow decide you might even do it all again!

Dry July - Weekend 1 down, 3 to go.

Well, I did it, I survived the first weekend of my month long fling with sobriety.  Despite a few fleeting moments where I thought I might crack, and wondered what on earth I had gotten myself into, I can proudly say I stuck to my guns (read: mineral water) and made it over the first hurdle.  Weekend number 1 of 4.

I can't deny that having a head cold at present may have made the task slightly easier.  However, I also entertained the thought that being sick might be my body's way of enacting revenge for taking away a life-source, wine and therefore, I should return it immediately.  Hand on my heart I swear I didn't though.

I officially put down my 'drinking hand' (Dry July's slogan), on Wednesday the 30th June. I have an event not-to-be-missed on the 31'st July, for which my honorary mother-in-law has purchased me a Golden Ticket (night off sobriety) for a farewell cocktail party she is hosting. I figure I'll be a cheap addition to her soiree with one cocktail almost guaranteed to have me tiddly (and the life of the party) after my month off.  Surely it's like virginity you know, 12 months of abstinence and some would call you a virgin again, by this logic a month off the wine should make me a teenage girl again.

Aside from the amazingly good cause all funds raised go to, the nuts and bolts of the operation is also my desire to lose the weight I have gained since commencing uni.  I weighed myself on Friday, 02nd July and am ashamed, embarrassed and horrified to report that my weight has increased by 7...yes, you read that correctly, 7 kilos!  *insert crying (make that howling) emoticon here*. 

After crying, swearing, kicking, pleading, and bribing the Wii fit scales to check again, only to be repeatedly appalled, I have decided to accept the cruel fate my food choices have led me to, and knuckle down.  So July will not only be the month of sobriety, but also the month of "Get-your-arse-into-gear-and-lose-the-weight month". 

Muscle Man is of course fabulous when it comes to all things Muscle, so he has taken on the challenge of motivating me to put down the chocolate and pick up the weights instead.  So far he needs a little improvement as he has seemingly failed to notice my oral fixation aka: need to eat anything in-sight to detract from the shiny new set of wine glasses Sexy Twin bought me last week just waiting to be christened.  A lovely gesture, or a cruel taunt- you be the judge.

On that note, either the pantry or my bed is calling, so wish me luck as I attempt to bypass one to get to the other ;o)

Alfie xx

Dry July

I've taken the leap - it's not even a step - it's a full blown throw-myself-of-a-cliff-and-hope-for-the-best-leap. 

What could be so dramatic I hear you ask, well, wait for it...I am participating in "Dry July".  A fairly recent initiative that encourages participants to lay off the booze for the entire month of July and raise funds for adults living with cancer. I'm nervous, excited, anxious, and craving wine all at the same time.  In other words, off to a rip-roaring start.

In truth, and much to my parents horror, with the exception of pregnancy I haven't had more than a week off alcohol since College.  Now I am not talking full-blown binging night after night, week after week, but even the odd glass of wine with dinner has been a regular feature in my life.  I love wine, I love food that goes with wine, I love learning about wine.  Some of my favourite holidays have included wine tastings and jaunts around some of Australia's best wine regions. You get the picture. Needless to say I am slightly anxious about 31 days without wine featuring in my life. 

Why am I doing this then?  I've been asking myself the same question.  There are a few reasons though.  The main one being that my Nan died of cancer a number of years ago and was treated at the hospital where all my fundraising would go, this alone seemed like a good enough reason to let my wine glass gather some dust and enjoy a well earned rest, the other main reason is of course health and weight related.

Muscle Man, Sexy Twin and others, have heard me banging on and on about my recent weight gain and have remained tight lipped about the reasons why (and so they bloody should!).  But in my heart of hearts I know the reason I am currently sporting an extra bum cheek and back fat to match, is that I've increased my alcohol intake since commencing uni, and in turn increased my Camembert, humus, Havarti, and salami intake also.  Tut Tut. Time to knuckle down, raise some money for a fantastic cause and lose the love handles at the same time.

I'll blog throughout the month of July, if nothing else I'll need to stave off the shakes and cold sweats, so stay tuned and wish me luck.

Alfie x

Thinking Healthy

A few posts ago I mentioned that I wanted to focus more on my mental health and start thinking positively about myself, and my body image.  I know that for many of us, learning to love ourselves and feel confident in our skin, warts and all, is more than half the challenge when it comes to weight loss.  I have personally spent the last 12-18 months trying to overcome the challenges of still seeing myself as 'the fat girl', or as I have admitted before, comparing myself to Sexy Twin.  It's been a really tough slog at times and in the spirit of being honest, I can't deny that there have been numerous occasions where I should have re-read my blog posts and heeded my own advice.

In my darkest times I would have to refrain from writing in lipstick on my bedroom mirror "You are FAT".  I was certainly repeating that message in my head on a daily, and at times hourly basis. When I think about that retrospectively and with a currently positive attitude, it breaks my heart.  How could I treat myself like that?

In January this year, Sexy Twin and I embarked on a week of 'boot camp' at the Hunter Valley's  Elysia, Golden Door health retreat.  Whilst there we devoted blood, sweat, tears and almost my first-born (anything to avoid a spin class, right!), to the program.  During one of the 'lighter' sessions, we attended a group meditation class; It was one of the first times I have meditated and I can't deny I walked in with the attitude of 'What's this hippy-hoo-ha'.  I later walked back out with a tear in my eye and the realisation that the way I treat myself, would NEVER EVER be acceptable treatment of my friends, my family, or my children. I was overcome when I subconsciouslyy considered the thought that if I ever have a daughter, I am setting the worst possible example of a healthy mind, body, and soul I possibly could (cue tears).

I can't truthfully say I was 'healed' that day from the demons of self-doubt and dislike. I wasn't, and sadly I am not sure I ever will be 100% free from some of the thoughts and insecurities that plague me at times. Sadly, I don't really have the answers either, I have some insight into what things I need to change, and how I can actively work to manage the thoughts that assail me at times, but I wouldn't for one second claim to be an expert in this field and provide guidance or advice. 

As some may recall, I was seeing a psychologist for a period last year, and whilst that did assist me at the time, I have come to recognise the fact that low self-esteem is a little like a bad habit.  You have to change the behaviour to release the habit. So, with that in mind, and taking baby-steps, I have decided this week's goal is to make a very deliberate decision to wake up each day, look in my mirror and repeat this sentence "I am fit, I am strong, I am healthy".  What's yours?

Do you label your food?

Aside from the obvious food packing labels, I am wondering how many people, aside from myself, label food as either "good" or "bad".

Over the past week in an effort to change my thinking from, "My arse looks like a snow plough", or "The new tyres on the car could come from my waist", I have been trying to recognise how completely destructive this way of thinking is, and change it.  I've also been trying to identify what things trigger my moods and therefore, my 'self-talk'.  Food as I have come to realise, is certainly something that can lead to thoughts and feelings regarding the size of my butt.

I have known for some time (and have perhaps been unwilling to admit), that I have an unhealthy relationship with food. Don't get me wrong, I love food; I love how it smells when I am cooking, I love how it tastes when I am eating it, I love mixing it with wine, and trying new flavours and spices in my cooking.  I love how food looks -especially if it contains blue veins or double-cream mould.  I love how food brings my family together, and how weekly we share good laughs, memories, and stories over food.  What I don't love is how I feel after eating certain foods.

If you are anything like me, it is possible you may have an "all" or "nothing" mentality.  For me this means that like so many things in my life, I lack balance when it comes to food.  All to often I have set out to eat one chocolate biscuit and have shamefully stopped somewhere around the fifth.  The thing is, more often that not I only enjoyed the first one or two, and after that I was purely binging out of a sense of guilt, and a lack of control.

This I have decided is possibly because I view certain foods as "good" and "bad".  Good foods I eat guilt free - however, I probably eat larger serves of these foods than I actually need to due to my belief they are good.  Whereas so called bad foods I mostly try and avoid, and perhaps it is for this reason that when I do eat them I tend to binge on them. I have the warped, and rather sad view that "Oh well, Alfie, you have let yourself down now, may as well eat the entire packet and go for broke with the chips aswell".

This week I have decided that in order to get myself back to my 'most comfortable and happy weight' I am going to focus on some realistic, and achievable, goals. With my all-or-nothing way of thinking there tends to come the desire to see significant changes overnight (oh I wish), yet I know logically this is not possible, and is not a healthy way of thinking. 

My goal for this week is to think about food as 'neutral'.  Not good or bad, but simply food.  Granted we all recognise some foods are going to be more nutritionally sound than others, but we also know that the key to a healthy lifestyle is moderation. This week I am aiming to make a few small changes in the way I think about food.

My motto for this week is: 'Yes, I can eat this if I want to, but is it what I really want?" If my answer is yes, than great I am going to eat it an enjoy it.  If however I am just eating it because it's available, I am bored, irritable, emotional - whatever, then perhaps that is the time to stop and think about my actions. 

Till next time, Alfie x

* I recommend getting your hands on a copy of 'If Not Dieting, Then What" By Dr Rick Kausman if, like me, you have these attitudes towards food.

It's Just One Big Merry-go-round!

Weight loss that is. Don't ya think?

I've been on this ride for over 3 years now and some days it feels like I can't for the life of me get off! In part this might have to do with the ideas I had established when I first started losing weight, and changing my lifestyle. I inadvertently thought once the 'goal weight' was reached, and both clothes and scales reflected the size I wished to be, I'd be able to step off the merry-go-round and resume normal programming. I was wrong.

For anyone who has struggled with his or her weight, and like me continues to, I'm beginning to wonder if the sad reality is that we are on this ride for life. Perhaps it is like an addiction to drugs, cigarettes, or alcohol - even when you are no longer riddled with the addiction, you still have to fight the urges to resist the thing/s you know provided comfort, or enjoyment, whilst you were addicted to them. For me this could be food – and well if I am being honest – laziness.

By my own admission I don't want to spend the rest of my life restricting my food intake, watching my calories, and keeping food diaries. I don't want to spend the rest of my life exercising to chase my tail, to burn off last night's takeaway indulgence, or to counteract the empty calories I plan to drink courtesy of my “TGIF”* wine(s).

All that said; I am frustratingly aware that my body, for whatever reason, is encumbered with a slow metabolism. I maintain that the sheer sight of certain fat-addled-foods manage to osmosis themselves onto my waist, butt and thighs without so much as sampling the food. It’s simply not fair!

I’ve considered having blood tests to see if I have a hormonal imbalance which might be rectified with the assistance of a naturopathic tincture or the like, but then I can’t deny the motivation for this path would also be to find a ‘quick fix’. I’ve done the hard yards, I’ve sweated more than my current body weight, I’ve ran more than I walked in the preceding years to my weight loss quest, and I’ve worn through more gym shoes than I ever dreamed possible. I’m done. I’m sick of this! I want to throw in the towel and retire to a groove in my couch; all my favourite foods lined up in front of me, and eat until my hearts content - or my button pops, whichever comes first.

Moments into my fantasy and reality smacks me in the face – I‘m not fitting into my jeans thanks to my aforementioned attempt at abandoning a healthy lifestyle in favour of a reaching broom (or rag on a stick)* and I’m reminded that I DON’T have to be on ‘diet’. I’m no longer in the ‘overweight’ range and my mindset needs to shift from constantly thinking I am exercising and eating to lose weight, to I exercise and eat well to live the best life I can.

If 3 years ago I’d known the real battle was not going to be shedding the kilos, but rather shedding the ingrained mindset that comes from having been overweight, and addicted to food, and laziness, I might have thrown in the towel right then! I think with my renewed vigor for blogging, I should focus on sharing the journey to achieve a healthy mind, to match the healthy body! Till next time,

Alfie ox

* TGIF - "Thank God it's Friday!"
* See pic below - warning, contains graphic content :p
 

A change is as good as...

Hello faithful followers (whoever is left after my very long departure that is),

Thank you for the messages regarding my whereabouts, and asking me to return to the land of blogging.  I have been meaning to for quite some time, and finally after remembering my password and setting my account back up, I am here!  My "Thank you" and "Apologies" are all rolled into one, I assure you.

So much has happened over the last 9 months (sheesh, I've been slack!).  The most significant change is that I have abandoned paid employment for full-time university study!  I am studying a Bachelor of Writing, and well, the hopes, dreams and all that jazz, are to one day be a 'paid' writer (!).

So far I am loving student life although I can honestly say my waist line is not!  I've found myself so busy, and at times stressed, that I have either neglected to eat at all, or have consumed everything edible within the confines of my house!  As a result, in the last 12 weeks I have gained roughly 5 kilos :'(  Ahhh, what can you do though, it's not the end of the World right, just the end of my 'skinny jean' dreams...for now. 

The reality is, I know how to lose weight, eat well, move more etc etc but must confess, I'm a little tired of it.  I have been losing weight, maintaining weight-loss, or dreaming of body issues for 3 years now and I think the first semester of uni has felt like a much needed sabbatical!  Now to figure out how to have a sabbatical without the weight gain?! Probably not drinking like a uni student would help...

So what else has been neglected in my departure from blogging: Well, Sexy Twin is still sexy, Muscle Man is still muscular, Jim and Bob are fabulous and are now 5 and 2.5 which is hard to believe.  I absolutely still run (just not as often this past 3 months), and well heck, let's face it - I am still trying to be a "Fit and Fab Mama!", oh and I am now a brunette. 1

Stay tuned (if you can be bothered) to see how long it takes me to lose my extra love handle(s), and or, blog again!  Hopefully the blogs come faster than the weight gain did!

Alfie x
1: Bet that snippet of info made your day, huh!