A support and encouragement blog for those of us aiming towards skinny cow-ness... or at least aiming towards being a bit thinner and/or healthier.
What on earth is Operation Skinny Cow?
Operation Skinny Cow was born after a few of us in Blogland decided it might be nice to lose some weight and/or get a bit fitter. We decided it would be even nicer if we encouraged each other along the way.
If you want to be part of the fun and add your own posts to this blog then send an e-mail to Emily Sue at reachingforgreen@gmail.com and she'll set you up as an author.
Today I did it! I swam 50 laps, that is 2.5km!!! The first 10 laps were killers as usual, laps 22-24 were depressing because it was still hard going and I knew I wasn't halfway yet, but sometime in the late 20s I settled into my strokes and breathing and it became easier.
I have added two more laps into the set that I repeat. They are non-flippers laps, the trickiest for me due to my tiny inadequate feet. My set of eight now looks like
1. Kickboard & flippers, tread water for a minute at the deep end
2. Kickboard & flippers
3. Freestyle, girlpower only
4. Breaststroke, girlpower only
5. Freestyle, flippers
6. Breaststroke, flippers
7. Freestyle, hand paddles & flippers
8. Breaststroke, hand paddles & flippers.
So you see, my swimming is greatly flipper-assisted. But I like it that way.
Today after four sets (32 laps) I just kept powering up and down with my flippers. I took them off for a few laps but by then the exhaustion was showing and it was a bit too much. I needed two kickboard laps to rest a bit.
I powered past 40 laps and began to marvel at how I was now swimming personal bests - every lap was the furthest I'd ever swum! I was so relieved when laps 46-49 were done. And can you imagine how I felt on Lap 50? Woo hoo! It was exhilarating!
I guess now I need to find time to go and buy my reward!
I'm back into swimming, praise be given the long cold winter is over! Yeah yeah, I could have used the little indoor pool with its lanes of unspecified length, but seriously? Winter, swimming, me? Don't want to not going to do it.
Now that the 50 metre pool is open again, I've been going every Monday with a "Don't negotiate with terrorists" attitude. After my first aborted attempt at going, that is. On that first day, it was cold and drizzly, and there were no parks in front of the pool, beside the pool, over the road in the carpark designated as overflow parking for the pool, the council carpark adjacent to that, or up the street. I could have parked in the shopping centre or library carpark and walked to the pool, but the fact that all the carparks were full indicated that perhaps the pool was packed too. So I let the terrorist beat me that day.
I've been surprised to see that I've picked up where I left off before winter. 30 laps, which is 1.5km, and completing it in nearly 30 minutes. This is 30 minutes on The P'ool Clock, which I spell with an apostrophe in my mind because it is about as accurate and keeps time as well as The Playschool Clock, necessitating the apostrophe.
My Personal Trainer, okay, my good friend who is really knowledgeable about nutrition and fitness who is studying to be a Personal Trainer, said that to build up fitness and go further, going 10% further each week is a good rule of thumb. I don't see this as an infinite possibility, but today I decided to try 33 laps, just to see if I survived.
A funny thing happens as I swim. The first lap nearly kills me. It's my freestyle lap and I tend to go a bit hard first up, because I'm cold in the water and want to get warm. (I also wear flippers to give extra resistance - excessive cardio kills me and I like to mix a good amount of strength training into anything I do. The flippers work lots of muscle groups in my legs, and help me actually move forward in the pool, unlike my tiny size 6 feet - about as effective as paddling a canoe using butter knives.) The second lap is breaststroke, and it's my favourite in the set of 6 laps I repeat, but the third is where I put on my hand paddles for extra resistance and go hard at freestyle again. The third lap is usually when I start questioning whether I'll make it to 10 laps, let alone 30.
By laps 12, 13 and 14, I'm a bit depressed I'm not half-way yet, and wonder if I should stop at 20. But by 18, I know that I'll make the distance.
Today though, but the time I got to 26, I knew I had more than 4 more laps in me, and I also knew I'd make it to 33 easily.
Better make it 34, I thought. Don't want to get out at the deep end, and walk in the wind down to where my towel is.
But then after 34, I knew I would make it to 40. By that stage I'd abandoned my usual set of 6 laps and ditched the hand paddles and kickboard laps. I was just doing freestyle and breaststroke, and I noticed that as I did my freestyle laps (35, 37, 39) I started wondering if I'd do 40 laps. I was getting pretty exhausted by this time. But the breaststroke laps encouraged me - during 34, 36 and 38 I knew I could make it.
And I did! I swam 40 laps, 2km!
How about after I do 50 laps (2.5km) I treat myself to a pair of swim fins?
I bet you thought I'd died. I haven't. I just left to focus on doing what I'd been trying to do for so long - losing some damn weight.
On the Scales:
Starting Weight: 67.0kg.
Current Weight: 60.3kg
Loss: 6.7kg, or 10% of my starting weight.
NSVs (Non-Scale Victories)
BMI (not perfect, but a decent enough indicator for me): Previously: 24.9. Wear a cardigan, and I'd be "overweight." Now: 22.4 - just shy of the halfway point in the normal range.
Currently wearing my GOAL JEANS! My what? MY GOAL JEANS!!
Everyone is noticing that I'm looking trimmer, even my old Dad.
Can now sustain weight loss without logging food every day: have a bit of an instinct for what I will and won't eat in order to keep losing.
Am much fitter and can wear workout clothes without laughing at self.
Took a ridiculous picture of self in goal jeans. Laughed at self then.
What's worked for me?
(1) I always ate "fairly healthy," but it wasn't until I started counting calories on My Fitness Pal that I had any success at all. After all, what's a diet without a treat? And how big is a treat? And how many treats? I never knew the answers to these questions until I had a set number of calories to eat each day, and wrote down every single thing I actually ate. The answers to the above questions weren't what I'd previously thought.
Along with counting calories, I have spent time focussing on carbs/proteins/fats, saturated fat content, sugar content, and sodium content. All these things are quite important, and you'd go mad trying to track it all without My Fitness Pal.
Those six weeks of hard-line rules late last year were great, and I've mostly kept them up and included some more, like no rice crackers, ever! Ever, ever, ever! I'll tell you why one day. Evil things.
(2) I always stayed "fairly active," but it wasn't until I started "working out" that I had any success either. I had previously read research indicating that pure cardio was the way to go if you want to burn fat, but the reality is that strength training is pretty effective especially when it's coupled with cardio. It was all more effective when my exercise routine was mixed up so my body didn't get used to my workout routine and go into a plateau.
So I completed Jillian Michaels' 23-day Shred program ... I beg your pardon ... I nearly completed Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred program in the comfort of my living room with the aid of a set of dumbbells and my three small children. I saw results, oh boy did I see them! And although I should have been measuring results with a tape measure as well, I mainly saw them in my ability to go from being able to do zero pushups to 15 in a row, and to crunch my abs until Jillian said to stop, and to star-jump and jump-rope and butt-kick until I lost continence. This last is not a joke. I didn't let it stop me - I bought a pack of maternity pads and kept going.
Going to the pool lost its appeal when the big pool was shut down for winter, so I did as much walking while pushing the pram/stroller as I could. To and from school is ideal (Hills! Resistance training!) when the weather is nice, so I've been trying to do that whenever I can. It's funny when you are sad when the kids hop out and walk, or when you're pushing a nice easy pram ... simply because you know you're burning fewer calories!
What now?
The picture above doesn't show it, but I haven't lost much weight from my tummy. I have a little bit left to lose if I'm going to get rid of this fat over my internal organs (doctors don't mind all that much if your fat is on your thighs, but they don't like seeing it closer to your heart and other organs.) The weather will get warmer and I'll be back out there walking to and from school whenever I can, and the pool will re-open and I'll start carving up the water again. I will buy new clothes and lo, there will be less fabric in them. I will look nicer in my clothes too, so perhaps I should decide to care just a little bit about how I look.
I'm going to learn how to get my scales to tell me [their opinion of] my body fat percentage (again, imperfect, but decent enough as an indicator) and I'll let that be a rough guide to how much more to lose, as well as how my body feels. I can feel many inches of fat over the top of my recently-toned muscle right now, and I plan to keep some of it but lose some of it too. Not all of it is necessary.
Hey - wanna check out My Fitness Pal? I am eternally grateful to Emily Sue for sending me in that direction! I recently asked a friend's husband who has lost 25kg on MFP how awesome is My Fitness Pal?
His answer: "Really awesome. Actually ... A Hundred-Awesome."
Six weeks ago I had a conversation with Emily Sue about food issues, and a few days later I had a conversation with another friend, B, about fashion issues. During both conversations, I found that I was unable to conjure up any issues.
I had to admit that although I have lumpy dumpy bits and would love them gone so I could start looking good in clothes, I'm not all hung up about it. I don't care about my appearance all that much, because I have an inherent belief in my worth, Fatty-Fatty-Boombah or not. I don't have emotional issues with weight, food, clothes, makeup, hair or anything. I just KNOW that I'm just fine with God, with my loved ones and with ME, whether I lose these kilos or not. Losing the wobbly bits would be icing on the cake.
The only reason why I'm so keen on doing it is because when I want to do something, I want to do it - no mucking around and failing.
SO. Six weeks holiday from OSC. Who have I been talking to during that time? I have a friend who has 4 children, and (by her accounts) puts on weight when pregnant. Each time her babies are weaned, she says, "Right, now I will lose the weight," and she does. She just does. ("Wha-?") She has got a lot of sensible, common-sense ideas, but the difference seems to be that it's more structured than my previous "It's healthy so I will eat it" approach. AND she is low-pressure. I need that.
What have I been reading? My friend gave me some books. She picks ideas from each of them and does what feels right. So I have done the same. I've focussed on how my body feels energetic with a bit of protein in it, and how my carbs really need to be sensible. This has meant switching to wholemeal bread and pasta, and not eating anything white. Yum! (No, seriously, yum!)
Other things I have read: This post made me think I was doing better than I'd previously thought. This post intrigued me. "Nothing more to see here." I thought I'd give it a go, and that brings me to:
What have I been eating? I have steadfastly maintained that one shouldn't need to count kilojoules and all that palaver but that second link above? It made me decide to give it a go. I will let you know how things work out. If the scales don't show any difference after a few weeks, I'll go and read that first link again and buy another pair of super-control Magic Knickers. Whatever.
What have I been doing? Well, as per the title of this post, the weather has been splendid! This, coupled with the fact that my husband sort of -oops- slightly smashed various parts of our car up (an unblogged experience because what do you say?) leaving me with some carless school pickups has had us out and about, huffing and puffing up and down hills with a heavy double stroller. Great exercise! We also have a park at the bottom of our hill, and have gone there and back with the stroller too in the lovely Autumn weather. I've been doing some weight resistance training with dumbbells and some modified situps as well.
I've also been spending some fantastic time in the water (which I love!) working up from 20 laps of our town's 50m pool (1km) going about 1.8km/h up to today's effort of 40 laps (2km) going about 2.4km/h, and finding that I've been needing fewer and shorter rests and breaks. Which one day is CERTAIN to be horribly and unintentionally spoonerised, causing me to announce to an acquaintance or an in-law that I require fewer breasts and rakes. I just know it is going to happen.
I can't go more than a few days with some exercise right now, and am loving it. Bathroom scales be damned, I won't mind all that much if I never lose any weight and am doomed to carry this 4-month-ish belly around on my non-pregnant frame forever. I am enjoying good nutrition and regular exercise, and that's good enough for me.
I have a huge post written detailing many frustrations with food, exercise, weight loss, being in the average weight range but with wobbly bits that just aren't right, and my underlying complete satisfaction with who I am regardless of my weight or wobbly bits anyway. It's all getting too much for me, so I have decided to take drastic action.
Table of Contents
1. A Huge Disappointment
2. A realisation
3. In which I realise I don't even need my mirror
4. Adios
Chapter One: A Huge Disappointment
Previous Weight: 66.5kg
Current Weight: 68.1kg
I have achieved this result by continuing my good eating and active lifestyle, coupled with now regular swims at the pool. Congratulations me.
Chapter Two: A Realisation
I realised something the other day. Three bits of information came into complete clarity for me, and now it all doesn't make sense.
Piece of Information #1
I am eating consistently quite well - keeping meals to pretty healthy standards and trying to snack on fruit and water. Doesn't always work, but I'm doing quite well. I am keeping up with some of my hard-line rules I used late last year to rein in some areas of eating where I felt I was going a bit overboard. I eat dip on a hardly-ever basis, and I am not drinking calories - no fizzy drinks, no cordial, no sugar in my tea (well okay some in my coffee but I ceased promising I'd go that far.) I am active a lot of the day. Sure, I don't get out and huff/puff/sweat, but my life doesn't support that sort of rubbish. Again, we can't do everything perfectly. In short, I am doing okay. And my weight doesn't change and my regular pants don't get looser. My loose pants were bought when I was pregnant. My body quite likes being slightly pudgy. Damn, but not major damn.
Piece of Information #2
Two friends of mine are getting married next month. He eats a gluten-free diet, she has adopted a gluten-free diet for convenience. And she's lost kilograms she didn't set out to lose. Damn.
Piece of Information #3
My dear husband is on a milk-free diet. He substitutes soy, but otherwise his diet is much the same as it used to be, which isn't perfect. Since he has gone milk-free, he has been able to fit into pants he wasn't able to fit into before. Damn.
Conclusion:
Despite believing that you have to cut out fat and sugar to lose weight, it seems that cutting out normal parts of the food pyramid is more effective. Well, not really. Cutting out food types that are notoriously difficult to digest, like gluten and lactose. Emily Sue and I discussed this at length. I hesitate to use the phrase "chewed the fat" for obvious reasons.
Anyway, just as I judge having a 100% hard-line diet is unsustainable and doing regular huffing/puffing/sweating exercise is unsustainable, I believe that managing a restricted diet while still feeding my children a normal diet is unsustainable in my current stage of life.
Damn.
Chapter Three: In which I realise I don't even need my mirror
Talking to Emily Sue tonight clarified a few things for me. One is I really don't care much about food, weight, body shape and appearance outside of Skinny Cow. I never have. Yeah sure I would totally love to get a skinny tummy again and lose the tuckshop lady arms, but seriously, outside of Skinny Cow, I give it very little thought. I just have to visit the issue with you girls because ... well, it's all about accountability and I haven't made gains so I feel the need to justify myself at every turn. Exhausting.
I don't spend much time at all looking in a mirror, I don't really care how I look to other people and sometimes it shows, and I am simply so comfortable in my own frumpy skin that frankly my dear, I just don't give a damn.
I don't use makeup because I've always thought I look better without. I don't use many hair products - just enough not to look like a total Bush Woman. I don't buy many clothes, I don't have many updated or nice clothes, and I never look in a mirror after I put them on. I just don't care. I have always gained my worth through what God thinks of me and what I can do for God and his people, and I'm really happy with how I'm going in those areas. I was raised by hard-working people from working and farming backgrounds who would have scoffed at anyone caring the slightest about their appearance beyond having no dirt behind their ears and having combed hair. I took on that perspective and I haven't changed much as I've grown up. I feel like saying to the world, "Take me as I am, because I don't really want to spend time talking about the cutest new little cardigan/ballet flats/shade of lipgloss with you."
A friend of mine recently said to me in a coffee shop, "But you do care, don't you?" And the truth, which I didn't want to hurt her with was, "No. I really don't. I only talk about fashion, makeup, weight loss and style with you because you're really interested in it."
Tonight Emily Sue directed me to her site to watch this video. We talked about it for a bit.
And that's when it really gelled for me. Emma Thompson, bless her heart, says "Imagine a world..." And I just shook my head in dumb wonder. That. Is. My. Life. I don't have to imagine. I have always lived in a world where I just go about my day. Don't you all?
No primping in front of the mirror, no bothing about 'self-image' apart from my achievements and who I am in God. Except, Emma, if I saw a zit on my face, I'd just say, "Huh" and walk away with no makeup involved. But to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't see the zit in the first place. Remember? No mirror-time except for contact-lens-poking-in.
The only time that I really think about appearance is when I come here and get involved in OSC-type chat. And that is when I am grudgingly honest and I admit that in an ideal world, I'd love to lose some kilos, which is technically true. But that clearly isn't working within the framework of my life, so again: Damn, but I don't really mind all that much.
Chapter Four: Adios
So au revoir my cowgirls. It's been fun riding with you. I have been inspired by your weight losses and your exercise! (As a side-note, I am swimming regularly now, which is exciting. But I can't do more than that right now.) I am off to keep on with the things I've been doing, some of those hard-line rules I started before Christmas which have been SO great, and holding myself pretty accountable in what I eat and don't eat, because a high level of accountability to self is what works for me. But the big difference from now on will be I will be free to not care when I really don't.
Because frankly my dears, when it comes to weight loss that probably isn't going to happen, I just don't give a damn.
Any loss at all? Of course not. What were you expecting?
Wardrobe: Everything I own is in the wash, except for my pair of size 14 skinny jeans. I am therefore wearing them, enjoying the way they swim on my body and fall down a bit. Surely I am losing weight? No, apparently not. I am still 66.5ish kg whether I look like my clothes are swimming on me or I look like I'm trussed up like a Christmas ham.
How I look today: Weird, as I had a drastic haircut and my hair won't go right. It was Polygamous Sect Length with mandatory frizzing, and now it's layered at shoulder-length with similar frizzing. You'd think that I'd have lost a bit of weight with the haircut, but you'd be wrong.
How I feel today: Much more worried about my hair than about my weight.
What I think about weight loss today: It doesn't exist. I've been eating less, eating healthy and continue to be really active (pushing single and double strollers around, walking to and from work, generally pushing my body to do that little bit extra.) Nothing happens. So why are we here again?
Wardrobe: After a blog post confessing to old jeans ripping open displaying my old undies, my Mother told me to go shopping for clothes. She offered to mind my children (which I accepted) and attempted to press $100 onto me, (which I didn't.) All I bought was underwear. Because I am, as I thought, an oddly-shaped 12E, spending a frightful amount of money at a posh shop is my only option. I was delighted to find that 14DD also does the job, and in fact, does it a little more comfortably. I found a splendid bra and bought three, and I also found that I still look ghastly in those darn mirrors with the fluoro lighting glaring down from directly above. I also found that if you spend a fair bit of money on briefs that promise to be very comfy due to the absence of leg elastic, they will spend their lives annoyingly wedged, due to the lack of leg elastic. Fail, Berlei Barely There.
How I look today: Pretty alright, have dressed for my shape and am rockin the look.
How I feel today: Fine, wondering if I really need to bother about this muffin top after all, mainly because I look okay today and have forgotten how horrible I looked in that change booth.
What I think about weight loss today: Look, I confess I don't believe in it again. I'm eating fairly healthy, I am unwilling to give up treats like a little chocolate, I'm active all day every day despite not being able to get out and do heartrate-raising exercise, I am getting good sleep and loving life, and nothing much ever happens on the scales.
And why am I even bothering about getting rid of this tummy anyway?
Oh that's right. Because of how I looked in that change booth. That's why.
Wardrobe: Wouldn't mind going shopping for more pants that look okay around the muffin top and shirts that aren't too clingy but aren't too blousey at the same time. Both styles accentuate muffin top dreadfully. Have been breaking one of my cardinal wardrobe rules - Sleeveless Doesn't Flatter Me At All - and I've been looking okay (especially if I hold my arms out from my body a little.) Still a little leg-of-lamb-ish around the upper arms, but not too bad overall.
How I look today: Started off looking lumpy & dumpy in oversized 3/4 jeans with thick fabric and a blousy shirt that probably should have been in the maternity section in the shop. Changed to a more fitted 3/4 jeans in thinner fabric and a more fitted top. Transfigured my look.
How I feel today: Dumpy around the middle, okay elsewhere. Slightly shocked to catch sight of reflection in windows, because body image is slightly better than reality right now.
What I think about weight loss today: Plan to state weight in "hovering around XX.Xkg" since I am uncomfortable pinning my hopes on a 300g loss when I can wee that much, or becoming depressed at a 500g gain, because that's how much water I drink before breakfast in the morning. This way I can feel confident in a loss like the one I've seen over the last few weeks. I guess this all means that I tentatively believe in weight loss for the moment.
Hello all, I am back and I have some points to note:
(1) I have new scales! Real Weight Watchers ones, with the bonus of telling the correct weight. They also have many other functions like muscle mass and some measurement of fat, but I am not all that convinced on the science behind these measures, so I am more likely to use plain old weight along with roominess of clothes to track any progress I make, if indeed I do.
(2) I still don't believe it is possible to actually lose weight. I couldn't gain it when I was skinny, and I can't lose it when I'm not. I eat okay and I tear around all day long being incredibly active, but I still have a huge barrelous tummy. I made the word 'barrelous' up. I truly, deep down, have no actual belief that I will ever decrease the fat on my tummy or the looseness and flabbiness after having children. I don't believe it. Just so you know. It will be no use if you try to convince me otherwise, I will need to see some actual evidence that it is possible before I trust in something so outlandish.
(3) I used to look damn awesome. I was a C-cup with a nice waist and skinny arms and legs. As Hippomanic Jen can attest, this was in the days of shocking, awful, ghastly panic attacks which would last for about three weeks at a time, causing me to throw up, have diarrhoea and have absolutely no appetite at all for days on end. I knew during this time that I had an awesome figure but the level of existential dread that covered my entire life precluded me from enjoying it in any form. I said in those days, and I meant it with every fibre of my being, that I would rather be fat and happy. If you'd lived through the panic attacks I'd lived through, you'd totally understand. Anyway, here I am: fat and happy. (Slightly fat and very happy.) I feel it would be selfish of me now to want to be thin and happy. I feel I can attempt it if I want to, but I have no right to be upset at my fatness.
(4) I am upset at my fatness. I look awful. Well, maybe not that bad. But I hate the way I look.
(5) I ate well (if a little much on one day) over Christmas, but I had an awful fat moment that destroyed me inside. My sister was looking particularly willowy in a long clingy skinny dress (she is still in the land of panic attacks, wouldn't you know it) and I complimented her on how good she looked. She accepted the compliment and then did something that only she could do. She pointedly snatched the Jatz & dip away from me and plonked a plate of cut apple and orange down in front of me. It was done with an air of significance. A few things: (a)(a) to celebrate my 6 weeks without dip, I made the dip for Christmas with roasted beetroot from my own garden, roasted garlic and low-fat Greek yoghurt, (b)(b) It was CHRISTMAS DAY dammit!
And because of my fatness I feel I have no right to complain about this, to splurge on Christmas Day, or to do anything apart from eat the darn apple.
(6) I have been worried about the tightness of a particular pair of 3/4 jeans. Surely, I reason, I fit into my Size 12s okay and my Size 14s are a little too loose so that's okay, but why are these particular jeans so desperate to cut me in half when I bend over? Were they always this tight? I checked the size. 10. Rock on. Not worried about that one anymore.
(7) I got heaps of exercise in the surf on our holiday. It felt awesome. I am always quite active, but rarely get to the puffing, raised-heart-rate stage which is what I need. Today the weather is nice enough to take the dawg for a walk. If we come across an unleashed dog in our travels, I also get the exercise benefit of lifting the entire border collie off the ground and holding her over my head so she doesn't kill the other dog. I am sure that burns a few extra calories every time I do it.
I am totally failing at this cheese thing. I might adopt Jen's policy and say that it's healthy. Only that's what got me in my current Cheese Predicament - hopelessly addicted to cheese.
What are you planning for Christmas lunch? By the sounds of my family Christmas on the 25th and the in-laws' Christmas on the 26th, it won't be a huge blowout like I've been expecting.
Cold chicken and ham, salads, breads, fruit, BBQ chicken & veggie kebabs, warm pasta salad and a packet of licorice - that's what my two families have been promising. Sounds manageable!
What are you planning? Healthy stuff, unhealthy stuff, half-and-half, or a huge blowout and hang the consequences? All approaches are fine by me! I'd be interested to hear!
This all-or-nothing thing is working pretty well! I think if someone offered me some dip right now, I'd feel ill. I was thinking of a cheese ball the other day (usually I can't get enough of the cheese ball!) and I thought, "Yuck. No way." For someone with no self-control, suddenly finding that you don't like food like dip and cheese balls is a huge boost to the diet!
My recent decision not to have sugar in my tea was prompted because in the week leading up to the decision, I had rapidly increased my cups of tea to maybe five per day. This was previously unheard of for me, and I think the rapid increase in tea-chugging was due to a strong desire for the sugar. As soon as I cut sugar out, I didn't feel like tea much. Now, I am having a cup every two or three days and the rest of the time I am enjoying more water.
I know that this was never a choice I'd make for ever. I only said I'd do it for the six weeks leading up to Christmas, but that time is nearly over and that makes me sad. I've enjoyed these changes!
But I might not enjoy yesterday's new rule!
Take my affinity for dip, and multiply it by a Big Number. That's my affinity for cheese. I've always loved cheese. I eat too much cheese, particularly on crackers for morning or afternoon tea (curse morning and afternoon tea! I never used to chug calories mid-morning and mid-afternoon the way I do now! I reluctantly introduced M & A Tea because of my children's need to eat more often, but it's not good for me!)
I am half a step away from having an all-or-nothing rule allowing myself only Zero-Points Weight Watchers food only. We have heaps growing in our garden and it tastes great!
For this last week leading up to Christmas however, I am going to have no cheese on crackers or bread. I don't think it's reasonable to cut it out of cooking altogether (imagine a risotto without parmesan!) but I will certainly have no cheese in those high calorie, high-fat M & A Tea snacks.
Today I gave my girl crackers with cheese and tomato. There was a time when I would have thought that without the cheese, it wasn't worth eating, but today I had crackers and tomato only, and yum! Less cheese is totally doable. So I shall do it.
Maybe after Christmas, I'll have a Zero-Points Morning and Afternoon Tea Policy? The Christmas Elf is giving me some bathroom scales that work, and I'd be interested to see if they record any change in the future, despite my insistent unbelief in the myth of weight loss.
Oops, I forgot to post last Saturday. Not because I'd had a massive blowout and was ashamed, just because I couldn't think of anything to completely cut out until Christmas.
Since last weekend though I have had blowouts and I blame that horrid guy in the red suit. Usually described as fat and jolly, he will stop at nothing to make me fat and grumpy.
Since 13 Nov I have had no dip, since 20 Nov I have had no sugary drinks and since 27 Nov I have had no sugar in my tea. (I can't handle coffee without sugar, so I've pretty much cut out coffee altogether.)
Then this Tuesday there was a break-up at Playgroup. I ate some party food (not in contravention of my recent policies) but I still felt bad.
The next day, a small person had a birthday party and I felt a bit like a failure from the day before, so I ate dip. Dammit. Lots and lots and lots of yummy dip. Do you recall how I said I have absolutely no self-control when it comes to dip? Uh. Yeah. Man, it was good dip.
Now, I hear you thinking that one day of blowing out on dip wasn't all that bad, but the whole idea of short-term, hard-line rules is that I have none (it's only until Christmas for goodness' sake!) and since the blowout, I have been craving food that my body had previously forgotten to crave!
So. Bad.
But also: good! I have unwittingly given up my nightly ritual of sitting at my computer consuming a cup of tea (with sugar) and a few (too many) pieces of chocolate. This has come about since Emily Sue recommended Lipton's Cranberry, Raspberry and Strawberry herbal tea. I usually can't stand herbals but this one has a lovely aroma and a not-all-that-poisonous taste, so I've been enjoying that instead. And when I have the tang of the cranberry in my mouth and that nice warm full feeling of a cuppa in my tummy, I really don't feel like putting chocolate through my system. I currently have Toblerone, Double-Coat TimTams and Mint Slice biscuits in my fridge (darn that man in red) but I'm not eating any. I just don't feel like it.
Who knew that would happen?
So. It's Saturday again. Today I will re-instate a rule that worked very well for me at a party once. Since there are celebrations and parties springing up everywhere, each holding kilograms of temptation for me, I will allow myself to eat ANYTHING ... but only one of each thing on the table. A plate of Tim Tams? Sure, but only one. Some delicious quichey thing topped with cheese? Great, but only one. A bowl of chips? Poor baby, only one. I am sure I will live.
I wish I'd made that rule LAST Saturday. Many Cheezels wouldn't have been eaten by me.
-------------------------------------------------- A word about my scales: A few months ago, they were zeroing at anywhere between 2kg and 10kg, giving me inflated readings. Now, they are zeroing at 11kg to 20kg, which gives one quite a shock when one steps on. I believe I weigh about 67kg, having been 64kg after the baby Joseph was born. The scales can give readings of, for example, 84kg on a Skinny Day. I have spoken to a Christmas Elf about it (not the man in red himself, we're hardly on speaking terms after this blog post.)
On the morning of Saturday 13th, I lay in bed and it occurred to me that it was exactly 6 weeks until Christmas. I thought of the 3-ish kilograms that I could lose to bring me back to my post-Joseph weight, and decided that I could certainly lose 500g a week until Christmas.
It will never be found that I did or didn't achieve this goal, because I am too cheap to buy new scales and my old ones are cantankerous. I'm not blaming anyone for this. At any rate, I do not have a "before" weight, I don't have any update weights, and unless Father Christmas is kind to me, I won't have a final weight on Christmas morning. It's probably a good thing, because if I found that any Christmas indulgence caused an increase, I'd be devastated.
Nevertheless, I have had some success since making my six-weeks-until-Christmas discovery. I've been doing some healthy eating things - and I have been sticking to them. This is good (for me.)
Over the recent hungry months, I have found it difficult not to blow out on treats. This is because I have allowed myself treats. It never has and it never will work for me, the "I'm allowed the occasional treat" approach, because simply, unless it's an all-or-nothing rule, I will have "just one little treat" and then "ooh that was yummy, I'll just have one more" and then it will be all, "what the heck, six didn't hurt me, twelve will surely be alright" and before you know it, there's no hope for me OR the top button of my jeans.
Absolutely no self-control. I acknowledge that, and I work with it.
I know that people say you needs treats or you'll have one big blowout, and I know that works for many people, but without an all-or-nothing rule, my life is one huge blowout. So I'm trying something different.
For the first week following my six-weeks-until-Christmas discovery I vowed that not one gram of dip shall pass my lips until Christmas Day. For heavens' sake, dip is hardly an essential food group! If I can't get through 6 weeks without something as off-the-wall as dip, there's a problem. Recently I have been unable to limit my overall dip intake. "Just a small amount" becomes "just a little more" becomes "only 8 Jatz-worth of dip" becomes "only 8 more Jatz-worth" becomes "I feel sick."
This has been really easy to achieve for the last fortnight. There's been some dip in the fridge but instead of saying, "Should I have one cracker with dip or 5 or 10 or when should I stop myself?" I have had absolutely none since before the 13th. I have had some other treats and things, I have had no dip, and dip is such an Achilles heel for me.
Funny thing is - I don't really feel like dip after all these days. And herein lies the beauty of it all. I just don't crave it anymore.
On the second week, in addition to having no dip, I decided that I was no longer going to drink any calories when I wanted a cold drink. No cordial, no fizz. Easy - I love water and so I've had nothing but water since before the 13th. The kids have polished off our cordial, I plan to buy no more, and when I went to a kid's birthday party, I had water for every drink and didn't touch the fizz or the cordial. I also didn't have any dip.
I don't feel like dip or sugary drinks these days. I just don't crave it.
Today is Saturday again, and this week, in addition to no dip and no sugary drinks, I'll be having no sugar in my hot drinks. This will be slightly harder for me because sugar in hot drinks is something I have every day but I am ready to do it. I was thinking of cutting down to half a teaspoon but I find that amount is below my threshold of taste and so half a teaspoon tastes the same as none to me. So wish me all the best as I dive in - no sugar in tea until Christmas Day.
Tonight I let myself have three squares of Nestle Club - my favourite chocolate. I rarely eat any other type of chocolate because I've been spoiled by Nestle Club.
Three squares. That's so restrained and self-controlled, isn't it? So health-conscious. So ... "good".
Turns out, that's 18% of your RDI of saturated fats.
This week has been GREAT according to me, but it's been pretty dismal for my weight.
My husband directed a secondary schools camp so we all went to the Sunshine Coast with 77 teenagers where we combined with another similar camp. 150ish teenagers, mostly skinny, eating total crap. Humph.
I sometimes wonder about the TV show "How to look good naked." What's that all about? I should try to find out - a quick trip to Wikipedia or IMDb would sort it out for me, but for now I'm content to wonder. Because due to the configuration of the bathroom in our ensuite cabin, one could catch sight of the top 75% of oneself naked and from that humiliating position, one could quite clearly see that one looks positively AWFUL naked, and one wonders whose body she is inhabiting. One also wonders how one's husband puts up with it.
During the week, I ate like a... like a... like a woman who is having nice food cooked for her and who doesn't have to wash up. My meals were awesome, and so were the leftovers belonging to all three of my children. And the extra bread and butter I purloined "for the children" etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. And the celebratory McDonalds after camp. Etcetera.
My comfy Size 12 bootleg jeans started feeling tight across the girth. Here comes the post-baby blimp-up.
And to add insult to serious body-image injury, this morning I stepped on my scales a few times and after working out a quick average (for my scales are cantankerous at best) it appeared that I was 5 kilograms heavier than I was before the week began.
Say what?
I know I ate a lot, but I don't think I even CONSUMED 5 kilos of food during the week.
I wanted to say WTF, but I didn't as I'm reliably told that WTF stands for Wow That's Funny and I'm telling you that a 5 kg gain in a week is not funny. More like WTHHIGOH. (The lesser-known Internet acronym for "What The Holy Heck Is Going On Here?")
Well. It turns out that if you step on the scales to switch them on, then step off to let them 'zero', they go to 0.0kg, then they flutter around, finally settling on a figure that's sometimes around 3.5kg, sometimes around 4kg, and sometimes around 5kg.
Phew. Scales not zeroed. Weight not exponentially ballooning in a medically concerning fashion.
Time for new scales.
Also time for:
coming back to Skinny Cow
drinking more water before meals so I don't eat so much
doing appetite-suppressing things between meals so I don't snack, e.g., brushing my teeth, getting out of the kitchen, keeping busy, and drinking water instead.You thought I was going to say 'take up smoking.' I am not going to take up smoking. Anything.
getting back on the bread policy - two slices of that thick yummy grainy stuff a day and thinking outside the breadbox (ha!) for the rest of the day.
My weight, while not where it would be if I didn't have this flabby tummy problem, is not high on my list of priorities so following menu plans, counting points and hiring babysitters so I can walk with the dog would fly out the window at this stage of my life. Seriously. I WANT to do all those things, I think they're great, but I just know that at 11am on any given day I'd say to myself, "Shoot. I've forgotten to [insert weight loss strategy] ... since last Thursday." And then where would I be?
Just as heavy and twice as depressed.
So I'm back at OSC now, I'm drinking water today, not eating between meals tomorrow, and starting the bread thing on Monday.
Dammit, I'm not ballooning up 5 legitimate kilos before I blink, not this time!
So this morning I hopped on the scales ... wait that's not right. That never works.
So this morning I put my contact lenses in and hopped on the scales (there's nothing sillier than having your weight plainly displayed in huge numbers but not be able to see them, then bending over to see them and bumping your naked ass on the edge of the vanity because you've chosen to weigh in before your shower "to give yourself an edge", har har har!) and the numbers were a huge surprise: 61.7kg.
1.7kgs to my goal weight!
Then I hopped off, went to the toilet and got back on again.
64.7kg.
Scientifically impossible, still encouraging, but NOT 1.7 kgs to my goal weight.
I then drank three sips of water and the scales read 65.7 kg. So. You know. All I can really do is rule out the possibilites that I am over 80kg or under 50kg, that's the best I can tell you.
In terms of oscillating numbers, they've been hovering around the 65s and sometimes breaking into the 64s this week, with a few depressing days of 67s and 68s. I've never really watched my weight before, but I assume that the ole one about retaining fluid must be correct if those (average) readings are correct.
But I'm not able to blame anything on the time of the month, cos that's not happening for me. Which is a very good thing and must not be sniffed at.
Speaking of oscillating numbers, my blood pressure is high again, but I just got my (currently low) dose of medication increased so we're not worried. I'm still reading labels and finding that if you stick to fruit and veges with some clever choices of bread and other foods, it's EASY to stick to a healthy number of mg of sodium a day. If however you do something RADICAL like eat a rissole, well say goodbye to all your good work. The western diet sets us up to fail, I tell ya!
Plan:
stop eating so much bread, woman! What happened to the 2 slices of heavy grainy stuff a day?
stop cooking with cream and parmesan. In particular, stop making this.
stop enjoying food.
Ha! Like that's ever going to happen!
Anyone want to come over to my place for a risotto party?
I should not be having so many treats (and slices of white bread) but the scales are saying it's not hurting me too much. Since my scales oscillate quite wildly, I have been watching the trends.
A few weeks ago, the numbers were above 65kg: 66-point-something to 67-point-something.
Over the last week, my numbers have consistently been 65-point-something.
And now, sometimes, I see some interesting 64-point-somethings.
Funny what a little bit of success can do to your resolve - I'm heading back onto that wagon now.
I was telling a friend recently that I was going back to work soon, and wouldn't be able to afford any new clothes until a few weeks after I'd started. She said, "But you'll need new clothes in order to start work."
Firstly - wow. You have more money than I do sister.
Secondly - what? You think I NEED new clothes before I start? What are you saying about my current clothes?
Anyway. Bygones.
She was recently doing a clear-out of her wardrobe and instead of sending her old stuff off to charity, she decided to give it to me, given my dire clothing situation.
There's some really nice stuff in there! She's getting rid of it because she doesn't fit it anymore, and this means there are some really nice tops and lined skirts, perfect for work clothes in there.
Problem is, they are H-U-G-E on me. Just ballooney.
Some tops I can wear without them showing too much chest. Some skirts I can wear without them dropping straight off my hips and onto the floor. The rest will go into storage and possibly passed on to charity if I never get large* again.
So that was a nice gesture.
Or was it?
What are you supposed to think when a friend gives you clothes because "you might fit them better than I do" and then you realise they are all quite largely large?
If she had grown too skinny for them, I'd be offended. But I assume she has grown too big for them, so offense cannot really be taken.
Or can it?
-------------------------------------------------- * large = pregnant? Possibly? Maybe? Hopefully? Twould be nice.
