I've had a rough week at work. To be perfectly honest my boss is a bitch. She savages you with words and makes you feel worthless. Any people who object to this treatment get hounded out of their jobs. She's manipulative and scheming. One minute she is sweetness and light, the next she is a rabid rotweiler.
This week I managed to get savaged by her and I have been fighting the emotional pain for three days now. It is horrible to be bullied like this. I have cried (Monday and Tuesday) and eaten lots of junk food (Tuesday) and finally I went climbing.
When there is just me and the rock it is possible to lose yourself. There is you and the 3D jigsaw, and your muscles are the only thing between you and success. I climbed until I hurt, then I climbed some more. I finally went home when my legs had turned to jelly and I couldn't physically get up the wall safely any more.
I lay in bed last night and my arms ached. They still do today. I felt good last night though, afterwards. I had worked off some of the sadness. Unfortunately it has come back again today, and I have no-one to climb with tonight. Oh, and I'm absolutely knackered, that too!
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
Friday, 23 January 2009
Side Effects
I went to the gym again on Thursday and took the dog for a nice long walk this morning. I definitely have more energy since starting this gym lark. Unfortunately I am the same weight as last week: 13st 7lb, so this flurry of exercise (ie everyday except Wednesday for a whole week) has made bugger all difference. Still, I'm enjoying life, and surely that has to be worth something. Maybe I'm turning all my fat into muscle, which every self respecting dieter know weighs more than fat (or so we like to kid ourselves).
Ironically, yesterday I went into stuff-myself-with-bad-things mode, so my weight stasis is the best I could hope for.
I was worried to hear on the news that they are going to let people buy diet pills over the counter at pharmacies. Specifically, a product called Orlistat. Diet pills have a long standing reputation for complete fakery, only taken by gullible fat people looking for a quick fix. Remember that dodgy Slimmer's Tea, for example? Complete quackery.
Orlistat is different. It does actually work. It paralyses the enzymes in your gut and stops them breaking down the fat. This means the fat can't be absorbed into the blood so it just travels straight through. On the down side, that means people who eat fat whilst taking these pills have constant diarrhoea. Of course if you don't eat fat, you don't have diarrhoea, and taking the pills becomes pointless. Still, I suppose it is one way of getting you to modify your diet!
Why am I worried to hear these pills will be freely available? Do I care about self-inflicted intestinal 'slippage' (as it is known in the trade)? Nope, not a jot. Do I worry that these pills will be abused? Nope, that is inevitable. I worry because there are other side effects, not reported on the news, that can cause suffering.
I have tried these evil tablets twice, prescribed by a doctor, both times. I did lose a couple of pounds before I couldn't stand the side effects any longer. The first time I took them they gave me a rash across the acreage of fat on my tummy. It itched and itched. Hydrocortisone (for eczema) had little effect. I scratched it until it bled, and there were bruises on my skin from where I had been so violently trying to rid myself of the irritation. I stopped taking them, but the rash remained for several weeks afterwards.
My doctor didn't believe the tablets had caused such an effect, as it wasn't listed on her side effect symptoms. So, a year later I tried them again. The rash returned faster, itchier and more widespread. It covered my stomach and spread to my boobs. I left scars this time. I returned the tablets within a fortnight, saying I couldn't stand it. It took three months for the rash to subside. It was hell.
Remember the Mantra:
I would rather be fat,
Than take Orlistat.
Ironically, yesterday I went into stuff-myself-with-bad-things mode, so my weight stasis is the best I could hope for.
I was worried to hear on the news that they are going to let people buy diet pills over the counter at pharmacies. Specifically, a product called Orlistat. Diet pills have a long standing reputation for complete fakery, only taken by gullible fat people looking for a quick fix. Remember that dodgy Slimmer's Tea, for example? Complete quackery.
Orlistat is different. It does actually work. It paralyses the enzymes in your gut and stops them breaking down the fat. This means the fat can't be absorbed into the blood so it just travels straight through. On the down side, that means people who eat fat whilst taking these pills have constant diarrhoea. Of course if you don't eat fat, you don't have diarrhoea, and taking the pills becomes pointless. Still, I suppose it is one way of getting you to modify your diet!
Why am I worried to hear these pills will be freely available? Do I care about self-inflicted intestinal 'slippage' (as it is known in the trade)? Nope, not a jot. Do I worry that these pills will be abused? Nope, that is inevitable. I worry because there are other side effects, not reported on the news, that can cause suffering.
I have tried these evil tablets twice, prescribed by a doctor, both times. I did lose a couple of pounds before I couldn't stand the side effects any longer. The first time I took them they gave me a rash across the acreage of fat on my tummy. It itched and itched. Hydrocortisone (for eczema) had little effect. I scratched it until it bled, and there were bruises on my skin from where I had been so violently trying to rid myself of the irritation. I stopped taking them, but the rash remained for several weeks afterwards.
My doctor didn't believe the tablets had caused such an effect, as it wasn't listed on her side effect symptoms. So, a year later I tried them again. The rash returned faster, itchier and more widespread. It covered my stomach and spread to my boobs. I left scars this time. I returned the tablets within a fortnight, saying I couldn't stand it. It took three months for the rash to subside. It was hell.
Remember the Mantra:
I would rather be fat,
Than take Orlistat.
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Motivation
What motivates you? I mean what is motivation? I am feeling so fantastic at the moment: energetic, happy, buzzing with excitement, but due to no apparent cause. I went to the gym on Saturday, swimming on Sunday, the gym again on Monday and rock climbing on Tuesday. I am kicking, man!
In fact I'm so motivated I am itching to get out and climb again tonight, though I don't think there is much hope of that as I my usual climbing partners are all tied up in one thing or another. I have enough energy for ten people tonight. It's kind of cool, but I don't know what to do with it! I shall sit and jiggle my legs up and down while I type.
There's a kid I teach called Ben. He's a lazy SOB. He won't put pen to paper because he "CBA, Miss". (That means Can't Be Arsed, to the uninitiated.) I can see that this obnoxious child is going to fail his GCSEs by several grades. He could get a C, but he will probably get an E, and then he will blame someone else for it (me probably, for not making him work!).
So, what is it about people that make them achievers or CBAers? Are we born that way, or do we pick up habits like that from our friends? Do we change according to circumstances or do we get fixed in one holding pattern taught to us in our pre-school years? I don't know.
I'm generally a fairly self-motivated person, but I do go through phases where I just CBA about things. The bigger the task, the more likely I am to decide that the effort isn't worth it. Maybe it is like that for Ben. He realises he has such a massive task ahead of him, that he has given up before he starts. I mean, he's not the sharpest tool in the box, to begin with.
The secret, I'm told, is to break the task down into manageable chunks. Maybe I should just think about losing 2lb, instead of 3 stone. Maybe Ben should think about finishing a sentence instead of the next three years at school. Who knows.
So, if I'm breaking it down into chunks, maybe I need to do that by time, because I don' t think doing it by weight is going to work. Maybe I should just try to get through until lunchtime without sinning, and not worry about how I'm going to cope until tea time until I get there. Maybe I should even break it down into 10 minute sections: I won't eat anything calorific for the next ten minutes, and the next, and the next.
No, I don't think that will work either, because there is that 'end of ten minute' point where you rest on your laurels and say "Woohoo! I managed ten minutes! I can now eat the chocolate eclair!" I suspect this will be self-defeating.
OK, what about if I go for endurance instead. Let's see how long I can go without any forbidden food. Can I make it through a day, a week, a month? That might work. A challenge is good.
I challenge you: 1 week without anything weight inducing.
Ready, steady...... GO!
In fact I'm so motivated I am itching to get out and climb again tonight, though I don't think there is much hope of that as I my usual climbing partners are all tied up in one thing or another. I have enough energy for ten people tonight. It's kind of cool, but I don't know what to do with it! I shall sit and jiggle my legs up and down while I type.
There's a kid I teach called Ben. He's a lazy SOB. He won't put pen to paper because he "CBA, Miss". (That means Can't Be Arsed, to the uninitiated.) I can see that this obnoxious child is going to fail his GCSEs by several grades. He could get a C, but he will probably get an E, and then he will blame someone else for it (me probably, for not making him work!).
So, what is it about people that make them achievers or CBAers? Are we born that way, or do we pick up habits like that from our friends? Do we change according to circumstances or do we get fixed in one holding pattern taught to us in our pre-school years? I don't know.
I'm generally a fairly self-motivated person, but I do go through phases where I just CBA about things. The bigger the task, the more likely I am to decide that the effort isn't worth it. Maybe it is like that for Ben. He realises he has such a massive task ahead of him, that he has given up before he starts. I mean, he's not the sharpest tool in the box, to begin with.
The secret, I'm told, is to break the task down into manageable chunks. Maybe I should just think about losing 2lb, instead of 3 stone. Maybe Ben should think about finishing a sentence instead of the next three years at school. Who knows.
So, if I'm breaking it down into chunks, maybe I need to do that by time, because I don' t think doing it by weight is going to work. Maybe I should just try to get through until lunchtime without sinning, and not worry about how I'm going to cope until tea time until I get there. Maybe I should even break it down into 10 minute sections: I won't eat anything calorific for the next ten minutes, and the next, and the next.
No, I don't think that will work either, because there is that 'end of ten minute' point where you rest on your laurels and say "Woohoo! I managed ten minutes! I can now eat the chocolate eclair!" I suspect this will be self-defeating.
OK, what about if I go for endurance instead. Let's see how long I can go without any forbidden food. Can I make it through a day, a week, a month? That might work. A challenge is good.
I challenge you: 1 week without anything weight inducing.
Ready, steady...... GO!
Saturday, 17 January 2009
Just One biscuit
I have had a cake free, alcohol free, mostly chocolate coated anything free, one biscuit week. I have been rock climbing just the once, and I have been stressed to the point of insomnia (by my job, not by a lack of cake). Last week's experiment to see if weight loss is connected to exercise showed that four hours of heavy exercise made me gain 5 lb. This week's experiment to see if weight loss is connected to diet has caused a weight loss of exactly zero pounds. Yep, that's right: zero, zilch, nada. I weigh exactly the same as last week.
With all due respect, the phrase I'm looking for is probably "Oh, bugger". So what can I conclude? That four hours of exercise is not enough to dent the layers of flab and that cutting out the cake and alcohol is not enough either. I need to do both at once, and more of them, I assume. Again, I feel I should express this as: Oh, bugger!
I seriously despise those 'health' posters that suggest you could save your life by taking the stairs instead of the lift everyday. It really does insult the intelligence. If you are that unfit that a couple of flights of stairs will make the difference, then I suggest you have bigger things to worry about.
Did you watch 'Half Ton Son' the other weekend? This American teenager was getting on for 60 stone. He lay, beached and imprisoned in his bulk, in his bedroom, whilst his overly clingy mother fed him popsicles by hand a washed his ass for him; (not at the same time, at least I hope not). I actually had difficulty sitting down to watch the programme. Not because of the scenes of weight loss surgery, but because watching someone enormous watching TV made me want to get up and do something, almost on his behalf. I wanted to yell at the screen: Just get up! Get out of your bed and do something!
I was itching to move, just looking at him. It was a weird sensation. I ended up wrestling the dog for a slimy, half-chewed tennis ball, that he wanted an awful lot more than I did.
Bizarrely, the government has devised an advert designed to get us moving. We are turning into an obese nation, I should know. The advert is a cartoon, showing how active we were as cavemen, and how we should all go down the park and eat apples before we all die of cholesterol poisoning from our sedentary lifestyles. It has no emotional effect on me at all. I feel no desire to get up and leg it out the door with fruit in my hand. The only thing that bugs me is how anatomically incorrect the diagram is, which shows circulation of fat in the body.
So, after my week of enforced chocolatelessness, we went out for a meal with friends. Yes, I was pretty good. I had a yummy baked potato with salad and garlic mushrooms. The sauce was wonderful: garlic and cream. I am drooling at the memory. I did break my alcohol drought too, but I worked off the calories at the gym this morning, so I feel assuaged of any guilt.
I guess I have a choice here: I can give in to the creeping weight increase, until I become the Half Ton Mum, that actually would benefit from the fact that I take the stairs; or I will have to Up the Ante. Clearly the former choice is life-limiting, so I have to make some serious effort at the latter.
The question is: How? What do I do? and How do I sustain it?
With all due respect, the phrase I'm looking for is probably "Oh, bugger". So what can I conclude? That four hours of exercise is not enough to dent the layers of flab and that cutting out the cake and alcohol is not enough either. I need to do both at once, and more of them, I assume. Again, I feel I should express this as: Oh, bugger!
I seriously despise those 'health' posters that suggest you could save your life by taking the stairs instead of the lift everyday. It really does insult the intelligence. If you are that unfit that a couple of flights of stairs will make the difference, then I suggest you have bigger things to worry about.
Did you watch 'Half Ton Son' the other weekend? This American teenager was getting on for 60 stone. He lay, beached and imprisoned in his bulk, in his bedroom, whilst his overly clingy mother fed him popsicles by hand a washed his ass for him; (not at the same time, at least I hope not). I actually had difficulty sitting down to watch the programme. Not because of the scenes of weight loss surgery, but because watching someone enormous watching TV made me want to get up and do something, almost on his behalf. I wanted to yell at the screen: Just get up! Get out of your bed and do something!
I was itching to move, just looking at him. It was a weird sensation. I ended up wrestling the dog for a slimy, half-chewed tennis ball, that he wanted an awful lot more than I did.
Bizarrely, the government has devised an advert designed to get us moving. We are turning into an obese nation, I should know. The advert is a cartoon, showing how active we were as cavemen, and how we should all go down the park and eat apples before we all die of cholesterol poisoning from our sedentary lifestyles. It has no emotional effect on me at all. I feel no desire to get up and leg it out the door with fruit in my hand. The only thing that bugs me is how anatomically incorrect the diagram is, which shows circulation of fat in the body.
So, after my week of enforced chocolatelessness, we went out for a meal with friends. Yes, I was pretty good. I had a yummy baked potato with salad and garlic mushrooms. The sauce was wonderful: garlic and cream. I am drooling at the memory. I did break my alcohol drought too, but I worked off the calories at the gym this morning, so I feel assuaged of any guilt.
I guess I have a choice here: I can give in to the creeping weight increase, until I become the Half Ton Mum, that actually would benefit from the fact that I take the stairs; or I will have to Up the Ante. Clearly the former choice is life-limiting, so I have to make some serious effort at the latter.
The question is: How? What do I do? and How do I sustain it?
Sunday, 11 January 2009
The Universe is Having a Giraffe
What the Hell is going on? I got on the scales this morning to find I have swelled to 13st 7lb. I am a baby elephant! This is despite going to the gym (again) yesterday and going swimming this morning doing 30 lengths. In fact this week I have surpassed myself in the area of doing lots of exercise, with over 4 hours of the sort of exercise that makes you out of breath, and makes your feel the muscles in your legs.
So why have I put on 5lb? This is the universe having a giraffe, isn't it? Where have I gone wrong? OK, I ate a few biscuits at work, but not that many. I did eat three slices of sponge cake yesterday too, but I peeled the icing off, because it's just too sweet for me. I did go to a fast food restaurant too, but I had a salad and the smallest pizza possible and I compensated by only having 2 small toasted teacakes for tea. What have I done to deserve this?
I really don't know. Honestly. I really don't know. I haven't pigged out. I have done lots of exercise. I don't guzzle fizzy drinks - I don't drink them at all. I did have a couple of glasses of wine though. Maybe that's it? Though I am at a bit of a loss to work out how that adds up to 5lb. The original bottle didn't weigh that much! Not even with the glass!
OK, I'm going to try an experiment this week, if I can:
No alcohol, no biscuits, no cake and no chocolate coated anything.
If I still put on weight I think the only solution will be to give up eating altogether.
So why have I put on 5lb? This is the universe having a giraffe, isn't it? Where have I gone wrong? OK, I ate a few biscuits at work, but not that many. I did eat three slices of sponge cake yesterday too, but I peeled the icing off, because it's just too sweet for me. I did go to a fast food restaurant too, but I had a salad and the smallest pizza possible and I compensated by only having 2 small toasted teacakes for tea. What have I done to deserve this?
I really don't know. Honestly. I really don't know. I haven't pigged out. I have done lots of exercise. I don't guzzle fizzy drinks - I don't drink them at all. I did have a couple of glasses of wine though. Maybe that's it? Though I am at a bit of a loss to work out how that adds up to 5lb. The original bottle didn't weigh that much! Not even with the glass!
OK, I'm going to try an experiment this week, if I can:
No alcohol, no biscuits, no cake and no chocolate coated anything.
If I still put on weight I think the only solution will be to give up eating altogether.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Have I been naughty or nice?
Ooh, I have been such a good girl! Yesterday, I went to the gym after work, and peddled on that cross-trainer machine for 30 minutes. It has wide foot-plates that move with your feet and handles that move back and forth in sync with the legs. It's a bit like cross country ski-ing but not as hard or cold.
;
Then I did another few minutes on something called a windjammer. It's got a picture of a sail on the digital display. I assume it is based on one of those maritime contraptions, where you have to hoist the sail by winding this implement of torture for several hours at a time. Whatever the idea behind the digital display, it never seemed to actually raise the cyber-sail. The pixels kept going up a bit, then down a bit. At least with a real canvas, the damn thing would eventually reach the top!
;
Tonight I went climbing with a friend. She's one of these slim, athletic types that can run up the climbing wall, no matter how difficult it is. I haven't got a hope in hell of matching her ability. I think my stomach sticks out and throws my centre of balance back away from the wall, thus causing me to have to cling on harder and fall off more easily. That, or I just don't have the talent and strength.
;
Either way, it doesn't matter, for I enjoy the having a go part of climbing and I do get to the top of enough walls to make it worth while going again. My friend keeps inviting me back, so I'll just keep going.
;
On the down side, the biscuits at work have been calling me again. There is a biscuit tin, which someone has kindly filled up since the holiday. I scoffed quite a few at the end of the day today. Why? I was telling myself off as I did it, but that didn't stop me. So why did I do it?
;
That's not an easy question to answer. I think it's because I was tired, but I still had work to do, and I needed to concentrate for at least another hour before going home. Whether that justified the extra calories I consumed, I can't tell you. Probably not. It's undoubtedly part of the bad habits I have developed over the past five years.
;
What to do about it is even more difficult. The biscuit tin will always be there, whether I like it or not, so the temptation won't go away. If I take extra fruit or something for that 'end of day' snack time, I know I will just eat that first, and then go and eat the biscuits as well.
;
Yes, I know, you're all thinking how pathetically weak I am. I have no will power - I know! That's the problem! If you have a solution to the problem, then please do let me know! Answers, on a post card, please!
Sunday, 4 January 2009
Cold Shower, Anyone?
It's four days past the New Year, and how many times have I gone to the gym? None. Yep, that's a big fat ZERO. Why? I ask myself.
;
Well, it was shut January 1st, so I have a good excuse for Thursday. Friday I was kind of busy doing domestic stuff. Saturday I felt a bit ill so I wimped out and today I went swimming instead, which has got to count as exercise, right?
;
I say swimming, but I really didn't do all that much. Apparently there had been some sort of problem with the boiler the night before, which meant that the water in the pool was pretty damn chilly. I paddled around in it, with a half-frozen 5 year old hugging me round the neck, as she refused to strike out on her own. I went for a weight-bearing style of swimming, where you try to keep afloat despite having an extra body attached to you.
;
Half an hour was enough. We headed for the showers, shuddering with cold, only to find that the showers weren't working at all. There wasn't even cold water coming out of them. Talk about adding insult to injury.
;
Well, I was very virtuous, and I didn't finish off the half-consumed cocoa that my daughter left. I went for the sugar-free coffee instead. I picked up the Observer Sunday paper on the way home. There was an article in there about how worrying makes us fat. This comes as no real surprise because I know I lose a few pounds every time I have a bit of a holiday, and I also know that since I started the most stressful job in the universe 5 years ago I have put on half a stone a year.
;
I'm not sure what the mechanism is that links stress to eating, but I know less stress has got to be part of the way forward for me. So, maybe, instead of resolving to get to the gym 200 times this year, I should promise to avoid stress as much as possible.
;
That probably means avoiding getting hypothermia down at the leisure centre.
Thursday, 1 January 2009
World's Strongest Man
Happy New Year to all my fans out there, OK, so there's not that many of you. I saw a T-shirt the other day that said:
More people have read my T-shirt than have read your blog!
Damn, right! Oddly enough that's not really a surprise. This is my journey, and if anyone wants to follow it, then they're welcome along for the ride. Passengers are not, however, essential.
It's 2009 already. The Earth seems to spin so much faster as I get older, though apparently it is actually slowing down. There was an extra leap-second added to 2008 to compensate for this fact. Apparently the Moon pulls on the oceans, and the tides cause friction on the sea bed and the whole effect is that every few years we get an extra second. I'll try not to worry about it.
Have you made your resolutions yet? How precise are you? Do you just say "Lose weight" "Exercise more" or do you say "Lose 30lb" and "Get to the gym 200 times this year"?
If you go for the latter, do you have mini-targets, say for each month? Or do you get to next December and realise that you still have to go to the gym 133 times?
The qualifying heats for the World's Strongest Man have been on TV all this week. The kids love watching it, for some unknown reason. I guess it is quite entertaining. They like to see who wins.
The men competing are amazing. They are these enormous specimens of muscle-bound humans. Their bicep measurements exceed the waist measurement of my 6 year old, and their heads appear to blend into their shoulders. You know what I mean.
Their endurance, however, is the most impressive. They train every day, and have done for years to achieve this enhanced body shape. The defending champion, a Pole with a name I have not a hope in hell of spelling, tore his calf muscle on the first event. Now, my friend did that very same injury a few weeks ago, and she couldn't walk for two days. The Polish chap went on to pull a massive truck full of tree trunks up a track straight afterwards, though his swearing in Polish gave you an idea of how much it hurt! In fact, even with just one good leg, he still went on to win the heat. How dedicated is that?
Thing is, he really wants to win. (Probably should be past tense). Anyway, the point is: he has that determination, and that is why he has been named the World's Strongest Man for the past 4 years.
If I could distill out an ounce of that dedication. I would have no trouble fulfilling my resolutions for this year. So, here's a toast to Polish strong men. May we learn from your example.
Jem xx
More people have read my T-shirt than have read your blog!
Damn, right! Oddly enough that's not really a surprise. This is my journey, and if anyone wants to follow it, then they're welcome along for the ride. Passengers are not, however, essential.
It's 2009 already. The Earth seems to spin so much faster as I get older, though apparently it is actually slowing down. There was an extra leap-second added to 2008 to compensate for this fact. Apparently the Moon pulls on the oceans, and the tides cause friction on the sea bed and the whole effect is that every few years we get an extra second. I'll try not to worry about it.
Have you made your resolutions yet? How precise are you? Do you just say "Lose weight" "Exercise more" or do you say "Lose 30lb" and "Get to the gym 200 times this year"?
If you go for the latter, do you have mini-targets, say for each month? Or do you get to next December and realise that you still have to go to the gym 133 times?
The qualifying heats for the World's Strongest Man have been on TV all this week. The kids love watching it, for some unknown reason. I guess it is quite entertaining. They like to see who wins.
The men competing are amazing. They are these enormous specimens of muscle-bound humans. Their bicep measurements exceed the waist measurement of my 6 year old, and their heads appear to blend into their shoulders. You know what I mean.
Their endurance, however, is the most impressive. They train every day, and have done for years to achieve this enhanced body shape. The defending champion, a Pole with a name I have not a hope in hell of spelling, tore his calf muscle on the first event. Now, my friend did that very same injury a few weeks ago, and she couldn't walk for two days. The Polish chap went on to pull a massive truck full of tree trunks up a track straight afterwards, though his swearing in Polish gave you an idea of how much it hurt! In fact, even with just one good leg, he still went on to win the heat. How dedicated is that?
Thing is, he really wants to win. (Probably should be past tense). Anyway, the point is: he has that determination, and that is why he has been named the World's Strongest Man for the past 4 years.
If I could distill out an ounce of that dedication. I would have no trouble fulfilling my resolutions for this year. So, here's a toast to Polish strong men. May we learn from your example.
Jem xx
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