It's been a while since I visited my health trainer. She promised me a recipe list with portions on, to help me judge what was the right amount to eat each day. Time passed and the promise to deliver this eating chart seemed to slip away. I thought maybe Ms Sabbath had forgotten me, or maybe they were ignoring me, because I only write nasty things about them (who knows?).
I'm not sure why, but there was a feeling of relief. For a few weeks, I forgot to hate myself. I forgot about worrying about my hugeness. I forgave myself for not being perfect. I didn't berate myself for eating bad things. My weight changed not one ounce. I have no idea what my blood sugar was doing. I haven't tested it since Max's plan to starve me into lower sugar levels.
So, when the leaflet arrived this week, charting my future eating habits, I had to sit down and eat a couple of chocolate cream eclairs and think it over. I know I should get to grips with it. I know I should. The effort involved in organising each day in advance feels massive, though. So I did the head-in-the-sand trick and filed it away for future reference, with the intention of dealing with it later.
And here I am, a week on, two more chocolate eclairs further towards cholesterol induced artery clogging, and I haven't even read the list through properly. Nor have I made a decision. In the words of the advert: Maybe tomorrow, Jack.
Saturday, 13 November 2010
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Underactive
Another appointment with the Health Advisor. This time I'm going to get a list of meals, based on the Eatwell Plate. Ms Sabbath has spotted that I eat more than I should, rather than working on the pretext that I am starving. This is a step in the right direction. She is also going to get me on the waiting list for CBT, which is what I need to actually be able to stick to diets, or at least I hope so.
There was a trainee in the room while I was there. Ms Sabbath had to pop out for a minute and the trainee started making light conversation. She was delightfully drippy.
"Have you been coming long?"
"Yes, over a year," I said.
"Oh, really? Have you lost much weight?"
"No, nothing."
"Oh dear! Have you had your fibroids checked?"
"My fibroids? No!" This was news to me. I had no idea that scar tissue in the womb could cause weight gain.
"Oh, yes," continued the trainee, "Some people have an underactive fibroid."
I had to blink a couple of times to keep my face straight. Still some training to go, possibly.
There was a trainee in the room while I was there. Ms Sabbath had to pop out for a minute and the trainee started making light conversation. She was delightfully drippy.
"Have you been coming long?"
"Yes, over a year," I said.
"Oh, really? Have you lost much weight?"
"No, nothing."
"Oh dear! Have you had your fibroids checked?"
"My fibroids? No!" This was news to me. I had no idea that scar tissue in the womb could cause weight gain.
"Oh, yes," continued the trainee, "Some people have an underactive fibroid."
I had to blink a couple of times to keep my face straight. Still some training to go, possibly.
Friday, 1 October 2010
I just had a week of late nights, pizza and cake followed by a weekend where I managed to get out for a not-quite-four hour walk, before downing the best part of a bottle of red. Fairly good fun all in all (and I did play table tennis and pool in the pub - that must have used up a few calories, surely?).
The dreaded 3lb I put on seem to have faded away and Ms Sabbath claimed I'd lost 250g (which I think is 10 oz in old money). That's the difference in weight between a pair of jeans and a linen trouser suit. If I want to continue to lose weight this way, I'll be naked by Xmas.
Well, Ms Sabbath wants me to record what I eat (I know, we've been here before) so she can judge whether I'm eating too much or too little for the exercise I do. So, to judge the portion sizes, she asked me to take photos of what I eat. Of course, I'm not all that organised and I've only managed a few. I didn't, for example, photograph the two squares of milk chocolate I enjoyed at break-time, and I have, so far, failed to photograph my dinner, but there's still a few days to go.
Meanwhile, for your enjoyment: a) Lunch a la Tesco
and c) Lunch-box Still Life.
The dreaded 3lb I put on seem to have faded away and Ms Sabbath claimed I'd lost 250g (which I think is 10 oz in old money). That's the difference in weight between a pair of jeans and a linen trouser suit. If I want to continue to lose weight this way, I'll be naked by Xmas.
Well, Ms Sabbath wants me to record what I eat (I know, we've been here before) so she can judge whether I'm eating too much or too little for the exercise I do. So, to judge the portion sizes, she asked me to take photos of what I eat. Of course, I'm not all that organised and I've only managed a few. I didn't, for example, photograph the two squares of milk chocolate I enjoyed at break-time, and I have, so far, failed to photograph my dinner, but there's still a few days to go.
Meanwhile, for your enjoyment: a) Lunch a la Tesco
b) Museli in a Bowl
and c) Lunch-box Still Life.
David Bailey eat your heart out.
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Little Fingers
Good grief! I thought. I've lost 3lb! This eating more really works!
Then I spotted that someone, presumably with little fingers, had adjusted the setting so zero was no longer at zero. Nope. I've put on 3lb instead.
Maybe they were trying to make me feel better about myself?
Then I spotted that someone, presumably with little fingers, had adjusted the setting so zero was no longer at zero. Nope. I've put on 3lb instead.
Maybe they were trying to make me feel better about myself?
Thursday, 9 September 2010
Sometimes I'm just stupid.
I really should kick myself. I am just absolutely stupid sometimes. I try so hard and then let myself muck it up in one easy snack-fest. [Insert expletives of your choice here.]
I had my first meeting with my new Health Adviser this week. Max had forgotten to send me the time of the appointment, so I spent a happy half an hour phoning all the medical centres in the district trying to find out where and when I should turn up. My local surgery and the local hospital claimed never to have heard of Health Trainers, despite having referred me to them in the first place. I was starting to wonder if I'd slipped into an alternative reality, where I'd imagined the past year of meetings.
Max's replacement is a genial woman, who seems keen to get it right. She is shorter and younger than me, with the secondary characteristics of PCOS, tattoos and a love of heavy metal - in other words, not at all what I was expecting. (No offence intended, Ms Sabbath, if you're reading this.)
Ms Sabbath knows a lot about mental health issues, autism and how Weight Watchers works. We went over the old ground and I told her how well I've been doing since I read Kessler's book. I have had three weeks where I haven't touched anything fatty, salty or sugary really. I've been out doing exercise virtually daily and I am a virtuous little fairy. I look great on paper!
She looked at my fabulous list of marvellousness and suggested that I don't eat enough and hence my body is in 'starvation' mode. Before I dismiss this out of hand, let's go through the evidence:
FOR
1. Several people have suggested this, particularly as I get so abnormally hungry if I cut down food even a little bit. This suggests I am working at the lower limit of food intake and cannot reduce it any further easily.
2. I do a lot of exercise.
3. I don't actually lose any weight
AGAINST
1. I get heavier if I eat more.
2. I'm not actually hungry most of the time.
3. I undoubtably lie to myself and other people about the amount of food I eat and how bad for me it is. Fat people are notorious for doing this.
4. I do a lot of exercise, but not much of it is very vigorous. Again, fat people lie about how much they think they do. I am probably decieving myself regarding how fit I am. Certainly, people look at me and make assumptions that I wouldn't want to do/try certain physical activities (because I'm a fat momma [unspoken comment]).
I still come down on the side of 'against'. So, anyway, Ms Sabbath went away to do lots of research having made me promise to try to eat more.
This is where the stupid part comes in. Telling a foody they need to eat more is like telling an alcoholic to drink more. Carte blanche in the food stakes means a lot of calories of chocolate laden sin - biscuits, chocolate, crisps, ice cream - all the stuff I haven't even looked at for the past three weeks. Why? Because someone told me to eat.
I can't tell you how angry I am with myself. Like a heroin user, who just had a fix waved in front of their nose, I am now back to square one, trying to fight the demons of addiction. Just like the drug-user, I have topped up my Pavlovian 'automatic response' circuits and I will now crave junk food all over again. [Insert more forceful expletives of your choice here.]
Yes, I know Ms Sabbath didn't tell me to stuff myself with a week's worth of calories made from sugar, fat and salt, but that's what I did. By the 'starvation' mode theory, I should lose ten pounds overnight.
And I didn't go to my exercise class, either.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I had my first meeting with my new Health Adviser this week. Max had forgotten to send me the time of the appointment, so I spent a happy half an hour phoning all the medical centres in the district trying to find out where and when I should turn up. My local surgery and the local hospital claimed never to have heard of Health Trainers, despite having referred me to them in the first place. I was starting to wonder if I'd slipped into an alternative reality, where I'd imagined the past year of meetings.
Max's replacement is a genial woman, who seems keen to get it right. She is shorter and younger than me, with the secondary characteristics of PCOS, tattoos and a love of heavy metal - in other words, not at all what I was expecting. (No offence intended, Ms Sabbath, if you're reading this.)
Ms Sabbath knows a lot about mental health issues, autism and how Weight Watchers works. We went over the old ground and I told her how well I've been doing since I read Kessler's book. I have had three weeks where I haven't touched anything fatty, salty or sugary really. I've been out doing exercise virtually daily and I am a virtuous little fairy. I look great on paper!
She looked at my fabulous list of marvellousness and suggested that I don't eat enough and hence my body is in 'starvation' mode. Before I dismiss this out of hand, let's go through the evidence:
FOR
1. Several people have suggested this, particularly as I get so abnormally hungry if I cut down food even a little bit. This suggests I am working at the lower limit of food intake and cannot reduce it any further easily.
2. I do a lot of exercise.
3. I don't actually lose any weight
AGAINST
1. I get heavier if I eat more.
2. I'm not actually hungry most of the time.
3. I undoubtably lie to myself and other people about the amount of food I eat and how bad for me it is. Fat people are notorious for doing this.
4. I do a lot of exercise, but not much of it is very vigorous. Again, fat people lie about how much they think they do. I am probably decieving myself regarding how fit I am. Certainly, people look at me and make assumptions that I wouldn't want to do/try certain physical activities (because I'm a fat momma [unspoken comment]).
I still come down on the side of 'against'. So, anyway, Ms Sabbath went away to do lots of research having made me promise to try to eat more.
This is where the stupid part comes in. Telling a foody they need to eat more is like telling an alcoholic to drink more. Carte blanche in the food stakes means a lot of calories of chocolate laden sin - biscuits, chocolate, crisps, ice cream - all the stuff I haven't even looked at for the past three weeks. Why? Because someone told me to eat.
I can't tell you how angry I am with myself. Like a heroin user, who just had a fix waved in front of their nose, I am now back to square one, trying to fight the demons of addiction. Just like the drug-user, I have topped up my Pavlovian 'automatic response' circuits and I will now crave junk food all over again. [Insert more forceful expletives of your choice here.]
Yes, I know Ms Sabbath didn't tell me to stuff myself with a week's worth of calories made from sugar, fat and salt, but that's what I did. By the 'starvation' mode theory, I should lose ten pounds overnight.
And I didn't go to my exercise class, either.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Fat, Water and the Brain.
I've come to the conclusion that it is food that makes you fat. OK, OK, I know, not exactly a stunning revelation, is it.
The trouble is, I've been trying to lose weight for years by 'doing exercise' and it DOESN'T WORK. I just keep doing more and more, getting slightly heavier and heavier, and basically NOT losing weight. I swim, climb, walk for whole days; I've jogged, gymmed, aerobic-ed and pilated; I've done aqua-robics, bowling, diving, yoga, archery, kayaking, swinging from rope-swings, rowing, mountain climbing and cycling. I haven't tried bog-snorkling, but it is only a matter of time.
The frustration is, of course, that the amount of exercise physically possible becomes limited by time. Eventually, you are spending hours each week getting active and hating yourself the rest of the week for not having enough energy to exercise and THEN you think you are a fat whatsit because you didn't do enough.
So, I can't increase the exercise anymore. I am going to have to reduce the food. Therein lies a problem, well, several problems, actually. 1) I don't like feeling weak and tired because I LIKE to do lots of exercise. 2) When I get hungry, it comes on rapidly and hurts a lot, fills my tummy with wind and carries on hurting long after I have eaten. 3) I have not much will when it comes to seeing something and wanting to eat it.
The news this week has been filled with little gems about weight loss. Apparently, drinking two glasses of water before a meal fills you up and causes you to eat less. This seems like a sensible idea and it is just a matter of making it a habit. After all, I drink a fair amount of water, so this shouldn't be a problem.
On the down side, something we all knew, has now been shown to be true. Once you get fat, it is a problem to lose it again because it permanently alters your body. You keep the extra fat cells and have a higher proportion of fat to mass, even if you have lost the extra weight. That's bad news for fatties and partly explains the yo-yo dieting problem that many of us suffer from.
Far more interesting, for me, though, was reading a review of Dr David Kessler's book, The End of Overeating. Suddenly, it all seems to make sense. Food is designed to be yummy. Modern food is far more yummy now that big companies have worked out that yummy stuff sells best. Yummy stuff is energy-dense - i.e. full of fat and sugar - so even 'healthy' options end up with that in it. How many times have I winced at the amount of sugar in fat-free food?
Anyway, the eureka moment came when I read about how your brain responds to repeated pleasurable stimuli. It seems a link is made within the brain which clicks into action when it sees something it likes i.e. a large bag of crisps or a chocolate cake. Eating it, and getting nice sensations from that, re-inforces the circuit in the brain.
Once the circuit has been set off, it seems almost unstoppable. Removing the bag of crisps that you are focused on causes a kink in the circuit. You are not going to be satisfied until that kink has been resolved. THAT is where the problem lies.
Avoiding setting off the circuit has been my main defence in weight control. I don't have biscuits, cake or crisps in the house because when I see them, I eat them. When I don't see them, I rarely bother about them. If someone offers me a biscuit, I almost automatically say 'yes' and then curse myself afterwards. NOW I understand why I do that.
If I understand something, there is a chance I can start to do something about it.
Step one: Order Kessler's book.
Step two: Stick two fingers up to brain conditioning. It's my brain; I can re-wire it how I like.
The trouble is, I've been trying to lose weight for years by 'doing exercise' and it DOESN'T WORK. I just keep doing more and more, getting slightly heavier and heavier, and basically NOT losing weight. I swim, climb, walk for whole days; I've jogged, gymmed, aerobic-ed and pilated; I've done aqua-robics, bowling, diving, yoga, archery, kayaking, swinging from rope-swings, rowing, mountain climbing and cycling. I haven't tried bog-snorkling, but it is only a matter of time.
The frustration is, of course, that the amount of exercise physically possible becomes limited by time. Eventually, you are spending hours each week getting active and hating yourself the rest of the week for not having enough energy to exercise and THEN you think you are a fat whatsit because you didn't do enough.
So, I can't increase the exercise anymore. I am going to have to reduce the food. Therein lies a problem, well, several problems, actually. 1) I don't like feeling weak and tired because I LIKE to do lots of exercise. 2) When I get hungry, it comes on rapidly and hurts a lot, fills my tummy with wind and carries on hurting long after I have eaten. 3) I have not much will when it comes to seeing something and wanting to eat it.
The news this week has been filled with little gems about weight loss. Apparently, drinking two glasses of water before a meal fills you up and causes you to eat less. This seems like a sensible idea and it is just a matter of making it a habit. After all, I drink a fair amount of water, so this shouldn't be a problem.
On the down side, something we all knew, has now been shown to be true. Once you get fat, it is a problem to lose it again because it permanently alters your body. You keep the extra fat cells and have a higher proportion of fat to mass, even if you have lost the extra weight. That's bad news for fatties and partly explains the yo-yo dieting problem that many of us suffer from.
Far more interesting, for me, though, was reading a review of Dr David Kessler's book, The End of Overeating. Suddenly, it all seems to make sense. Food is designed to be yummy. Modern food is far more yummy now that big companies have worked out that yummy stuff sells best. Yummy stuff is energy-dense - i.e. full of fat and sugar - so even 'healthy' options end up with that in it. How many times have I winced at the amount of sugar in fat-free food?
Anyway, the eureka moment came when I read about how your brain responds to repeated pleasurable stimuli. It seems a link is made within the brain which clicks into action when it sees something it likes i.e. a large bag of crisps or a chocolate cake. Eating it, and getting nice sensations from that, re-inforces the circuit in the brain.
Once the circuit has been set off, it seems almost unstoppable. Removing the bag of crisps that you are focused on causes a kink in the circuit. You are not going to be satisfied until that kink has been resolved. THAT is where the problem lies.
Avoiding setting off the circuit has been my main defence in weight control. I don't have biscuits, cake or crisps in the house because when I see them, I eat them. When I don't see them, I rarely bother about them. If someone offers me a biscuit, I almost automatically say 'yes' and then curse myself afterwards. NOW I understand why I do that.
If I understand something, there is a chance I can start to do something about it.
Step one: Order Kessler's book.
Step two: Stick two fingers up to brain conditioning. It's my brain; I can re-wire it how I like.
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Giving Up
This week seems to be the week of giving up. I went to see Max. Naturally, I got on the scales and was exactly the same weight as I have been for the past year. I told him we need to go 'back to basics' in a kind of dodgy John Major campaign way. Let's just keep it simple, I said.
He said: I'm transferring you to someone else.
The day finally came: he gave up on me. Well, I can understand it. I don't look good on anyone's case load. I'm the girl that neither gets slimmer nor goes away. I can't help but feel rejected, just a little bit.
What have I honestly learnt during this long journey into weight loss?
He said: I'm transferring you to someone else.
The day finally came: he gave up on me. Well, I can understand it. I don't look good on anyone's case load. I'm the girl that neither gets slimmer nor goes away. I can't help but feel rejected, just a little bit.
What have I honestly learnt during this long journey into weight loss?
- I don't over-eat because I'm not putting on any weight.
- I'm 'positively athletic' by general standards, based on the amount of exercise I do.
- I don't stick to diets because they hurt and my family suffers my temper.
- If I try to cut down on food, I end up eating more of the wrong sort of food instead.
- I get really ratty, very quickly if I don't get enough food. Other people get to this stage when they are starving themselves. I get to it almost instantly.
- I can remain large, and maintain the weight I'm at fairly easily.
- I can continue to fail at losing weight by cutting down tiny amounts at a time and hoping.
- I can stop eating altogether and just ride the wave of lethargy, pain and screaming that follows.
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Words of Wisdom
The old lady I couldn't get away from, peered at my can of coke and said
"It'll rot your teeth, that stuff!"
I pointed out that it was Zero Coke and had no sugar in it, but she was undeterred.
"Have you seen how it gets rust off things? Any idea what it does to your insides?"
Ah, well, that'll be the acid in it, just like in vinegar. Nobody suggests that pickles rot you insides. In coke, the carbon dioxide bubbles dissolve slightly, making a weak carbonic acid. Indeed, stomach acid is way stronger than any acid you are likely to voluntarily ingest.
So, in a spirit of politeness, I asked the old lady what she preferred, if coke was such a demon drink.
"Tango, Vimto or Strongbow," she replied, without a hint of irony.
"It'll rot your teeth, that stuff!"
I pointed out that it was Zero Coke and had no sugar in it, but she was undeterred.
"Have you seen how it gets rust off things? Any idea what it does to your insides?"
Ah, well, that'll be the acid in it, just like in vinegar. Nobody suggests that pickles rot you insides. In coke, the carbon dioxide bubbles dissolve slightly, making a weak carbonic acid. Indeed, stomach acid is way stronger than any acid you are likely to voluntarily ingest.
So, in a spirit of politeness, I asked the old lady what she preferred, if coke was such a demon drink.
"Tango, Vimto or Strongbow," she replied, without a hint of irony.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
Back to the Beginning, Again.
There was an old man called Michael Finnegan,
He grew fat and then grew thin again,
He kicked up an awful din-igan,
Poor old Michael Finnegan,
Begin Again.
According to last week's news, the powers that be have decided that lack of exercise does not cause obesity. It seems that fat people only move less because they are fat, rather that moving less caused the fatness in the first place. It is, it seems, all down to junk food and scoffing massive quantities of calories, rather than anything to do with burning them off.
This doesn't come as a huge surprise. After all, last weekend I spent six hours doing a Grade 1 scramble up a 3000ft Welsh mountain (Grade 1 means any more severe and you get to use ropes). I got down off the massive beast of a lump of rock, ached for three days and guess what? Yep, I put on 2lb.
The news is kind of depressing though, because I can buck myself up to do tons of exercise, but I have absolutely no will when it comes to not eating. I am almost autistic in my inability to understand a negative: not, stop, don't, never, refrain
Max wanted me to fill in a month of sugar-free dieting, together with my sugar levels. He thought that if I ate no sugar, my blood sugar levels will go down. I don't think homeostatic control of blood sugar levels works like that. Whilst you can make your sugar levels high by eating lots of sugar, you cannot alter your fasting level by having a sugar-free diet. By definition, you are testing your fasting level... when as much sugar as you body can deal with, has been taken out of the system.
Let me explain:
Imagine the insulin in your blood is a fighter pilot, shooting down invaders (sugar molecules). It doesn't matter how many there were to begin with, the fighter pilot will work to shoot down the invaders until there are only 5 invaders left in the sky, then it will stop shooting. This is fasting level. It won't start again until there are more than 5 about again.
With diabetes, the pilot's radar is damaged. It stops firing when there are still 8 invaders out there. It can't see the rest.
Max is suggesting that I limit the number of invaders. I don't think that limiting the invaders will make the pilot's radar work again.
To bring the amount of invaders back down to 5, if the pilot stops shooting at 8, I would have to stop taking in sugar or carbs which are converted in to sugar. I would have to empty my liver of glycogen, which is a sugar store, released over 8 hours, and I would have to use up the released sugar in some way (activity). Once all these sources of 'invaders' had stopped coming, then, maybe, my blood sugar levels would fall.
I'm guessing that if I fasted for around 16 hours, not counting the time when I'm asleep and not moving, I might start to get my sugar down to where it should be. Of course, the minute I ate something, it would shoot back up and I'd have to start all over again. Michael Finnegan.
Anyway, I filled in the sheet with what I eat and my sugar levels. I managed a fortnight before I got bored and despondent. On the few days I did manage to go sugar-free (and let's face it, there weren't many), my blood sugar was exactly the same as on the sugary days. Homeostasis is a wonderfully consistent mechanism.
What I did notice, coming back to what I've been saying all along, is that I eat too much bad stuff. I have turfed sugar out of my lunch-box and replaced it with a large ice-cream after work! Doh!
I need some sort of avoidance plan to stop me putting fat and sugar into my body. My obesity has nothing to do with weird dietary problems. It is simply eating too much of the wrong crap. I can imagine I'm going to end up as one of those fat mammas with their teeth wired together, who get stunned looks from their doctors when they admit to liquidising Mars bars.
Please help me stop!
He grew fat and then grew thin again,
He kicked up an awful din-igan,
Poor old Michael Finnegan,
Begin Again.
According to last week's news, the powers that be have decided that lack of exercise does not cause obesity. It seems that fat people only move less because they are fat, rather that moving less caused the fatness in the first place. It is, it seems, all down to junk food and scoffing massive quantities of calories, rather than anything to do with burning them off.
This doesn't come as a huge surprise. After all, last weekend I spent six hours doing a Grade 1 scramble up a 3000ft Welsh mountain (Grade 1 means any more severe and you get to use ropes). I got down off the massive beast of a lump of rock, ached for three days and guess what? Yep, I put on 2lb.
The news is kind of depressing though, because I can buck myself up to do tons of exercise, but I have absolutely no will when it comes to not eating. I am almost autistic in my inability to understand a negative: not, stop, don't, never, refrain
Max wanted me to fill in a month of sugar-free dieting, together with my sugar levels. He thought that if I ate no sugar, my blood sugar levels will go down. I don't think homeostatic control of blood sugar levels works like that. Whilst you can make your sugar levels high by eating lots of sugar, you cannot alter your fasting level by having a sugar-free diet. By definition, you are testing your fasting level... when as much sugar as you body can deal with, has been taken out of the system.
Let me explain:
Imagine the insulin in your blood is a fighter pilot, shooting down invaders (sugar molecules). It doesn't matter how many there were to begin with, the fighter pilot will work to shoot down the invaders until there are only 5 invaders left in the sky, then it will stop shooting. This is fasting level. It won't start again until there are more than 5 about again.
With diabetes, the pilot's radar is damaged. It stops firing when there are still 8 invaders out there. It can't see the rest.
Max is suggesting that I limit the number of invaders. I don't think that limiting the invaders will make the pilot's radar work again.
To bring the amount of invaders back down to 5, if the pilot stops shooting at 8, I would have to stop taking in sugar or carbs which are converted in to sugar. I would have to empty my liver of glycogen, which is a sugar store, released over 8 hours, and I would have to use up the released sugar in some way (activity). Once all these sources of 'invaders' had stopped coming, then, maybe, my blood sugar levels would fall.
I'm guessing that if I fasted for around 16 hours, not counting the time when I'm asleep and not moving, I might start to get my sugar down to where it should be. Of course, the minute I ate something, it would shoot back up and I'd have to start all over again. Michael Finnegan.
Anyway, I filled in the sheet with what I eat and my sugar levels. I managed a fortnight before I got bored and despondent. On the few days I did manage to go sugar-free (and let's face it, there weren't many), my blood sugar was exactly the same as on the sugary days. Homeostasis is a wonderfully consistent mechanism.
What I did notice, coming back to what I've been saying all along, is that I eat too much bad stuff. I have turfed sugar out of my lunch-box and replaced it with a large ice-cream after work! Doh!
I need some sort of avoidance plan to stop me putting fat and sugar into my body. My obesity has nothing to do with weird dietary problems. It is simply eating too much of the wrong crap. I can imagine I'm going to end up as one of those fat mammas with their teeth wired together, who get stunned looks from their doctors when they admit to liquidising Mars bars.
Please help me stop!
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Too Good to Miss
A must read, for all those confused by food fads.
Click here for link to original article.
Reproduced below:
FAT CAUSES FAT
by The Daily Mash.
Click here for link to original article.
Reproduced below:
FAT CAUSES FAT
by The Daily Mash.
| 23-06-10 | |
| THE fat that is in food could be the same as the fat that is in people, experts claimed last night. |
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Still Crazy After All These Years.
OK, so I was trying to give up sugar. I was doing quite well for a few days. I swapped the 30% sugar muesli bar in my lunchbox for a banana. Joe (my man) managed to find me some zero sugar yogurt that was edible, if a little grainy. Things trundled along for a couple of days until yesterday.
I tend to eat lunch huddled against a computer screen, trying to get things done in the limited time available. It also stops me eating the biscuits that are always available in the staffroom. Anyway, I don't pay a lot of attention to what I'm eating. Time is short. I did get to the end of my lunchbox yesterday feeling "Was that it?" but in the absence of anything left to eat, I just got on with the lessons and thought no more about it.
Oh dear. After work there was a meeting. By 4pm my stomach was starting to hurt, but I couldn't understand why. By 4.45pm I was nearly doubled over with the pain and couldn't wait to get out of there.
I cancelled meeting my friend for an exercise class, scoffed several of the staffroom biscuits and drove straight to the supermarket. OK, I'm not proud of it, but the pain was so bad. Sandwich, muesli bar, banana, malt loaf, orange juice and still the pain hadn't gone. My stomach was bloated full of wind and swollen like a beach ball. The food helped, but it didn't make it go away. It had gone too far for that.
When I got home I drank half a litre of water and ate some Cheerios.
I couldn't understand it. Was the pain hunger, or gall stones, or was my skirt was too tight or hadn't I drunk enough all day or had I eaten the wrong things? Six hours later I was still suffering. I shouldn't be that hungry, I'd eaten the same the day before and not had any bad effects.
Finally Joe came home and told me he had just put salad in my sandwich, instead of chicken or cheese (stupid me, hadn't noticed).
So I'd missed out on my usual muesli bar, the calories in the yogurt and to top it all I'd had no filling in my sandwich. Add to that a long meeting and you have a recipe for disaster.
This is why I don't stick to diets.
They hurt.
The bad news is, the progress I had made in cutting out sugar has all been undone because today I am still sore and wanting to put nice things into my abused body (like ice-cream and Jaffa cakes) to make sure it doesn't have to deal with the pain of hunger again.
One step forwards, two steps back. :o(
I tend to eat lunch huddled against a computer screen, trying to get things done in the limited time available. It also stops me eating the biscuits that are always available in the staffroom. Anyway, I don't pay a lot of attention to what I'm eating. Time is short. I did get to the end of my lunchbox yesterday feeling "Was that it?" but in the absence of anything left to eat, I just got on with the lessons and thought no more about it.
Oh dear. After work there was a meeting. By 4pm my stomach was starting to hurt, but I couldn't understand why. By 4.45pm I was nearly doubled over with the pain and couldn't wait to get out of there.
I cancelled meeting my friend for an exercise class, scoffed several of the staffroom biscuits and drove straight to the supermarket. OK, I'm not proud of it, but the pain was so bad. Sandwich, muesli bar, banana, malt loaf, orange juice and still the pain hadn't gone. My stomach was bloated full of wind and swollen like a beach ball. The food helped, but it didn't make it go away. It had gone too far for that.
When I got home I drank half a litre of water and ate some Cheerios.
I couldn't understand it. Was the pain hunger, or gall stones, or was my skirt was too tight or hadn't I drunk enough all day or had I eaten the wrong things? Six hours later I was still suffering. I shouldn't be that hungry, I'd eaten the same the day before and not had any bad effects.
Finally Joe came home and told me he had just put salad in my sandwich, instead of chicken or cheese (stupid me, hadn't noticed).
So I'd missed out on my usual muesli bar, the calories in the yogurt and to top it all I'd had no filling in my sandwich. Add to that a long meeting and you have a recipe for disaster.
This is why I don't stick to diets.
They hurt.
The bad news is, the progress I had made in cutting out sugar has all been undone because today I am still sore and wanting to put nice things into my abused body (like ice-cream and Jaffa cakes) to make sure it doesn't have to deal with the pain of hunger again.
One step forwards, two steps back. :o(
Monday, 14 June 2010
I must have FRUIT!
Anyone remember that film from about 1980 called the Time Bandits? A bunch of irreverent, rat-eating dwarves stole the blueprint of the universe from God and spent the film trying to escape from his omnipresence by jumping through holes in the space-time continuum. Don't worry, it made sense at the time.
Anyway, these itinerant dwarves hurtled across time and space and, no matter when or where they went, for some reason they always ended up landing on or otherwise messing up the plans of various characters played by Michael Palin. In one scene, possibly memorable only to people like me, who have seen the film too many times, Palin ends up tied to a tree with his lady-friend.
He pulls a mildly panicked face, as though he is about to soil his breeches, and says
"The old trouble is starting again!"
"Oh dear!" says the lady friend, resignedly.
Palin then pulls a face that only a mother could love and cries out
"I must have FRUIT!"
Well, I have been eating a lot of fruit, as a substitute for sugar, this week. I dread to think what it is doing to my insides. How many bananas, pears, apples and kiwis do I need to eat before I get to pay the price?
Let's face it, much more of this and I think that old trouble will be catching up with me, too!
Anyway, these itinerant dwarves hurtled across time and space and, no matter when or where they went, for some reason they always ended up landing on or otherwise messing up the plans of various characters played by Michael Palin. In one scene, possibly memorable only to people like me, who have seen the film too many times, Palin ends up tied to a tree with his lady-friend.
He pulls a mildly panicked face, as though he is about to soil his breeches, and says
"The old trouble is starting again!"
"Oh dear!" says the lady friend, resignedly.
Palin then pulls a face that only a mother could love and cries out
"I must have FRUIT!"
Well, I have been eating a lot of fruit, as a substitute for sugar, this week. I dread to think what it is doing to my insides. How many bananas, pears, apples and kiwis do I need to eat before I get to pay the price?
Let's face it, much more of this and I think that old trouble will be catching up with me, too!
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Sugar Free?
Today I went sugar free, as much as is possible without baking my own bread or something.
Sugar free oats made into porridge with semi-skimmed milk and a handful of raisins.
Tea, milk, no sugar
Benecol yogurt drink
2 slices of poppy seed bread with margarine
2 apples, 1 banana, 1 pear
Sparkling water
Chicken pesto sandwich
Shepherd's pie with peas.
Emotional effects? None that I have noticed. Will see how tomorrow goes.
Sugar free oats made into porridge with semi-skimmed milk and a handful of raisins.
Tea, milk, no sugar
Benecol yogurt drink
2 slices of poppy seed bread with margarine
2 apples, 1 banana, 1 pear
Sparkling water
Chicken pesto sandwich
Shepherd's pie with peas.
Emotional effects? None that I have noticed. Will see how tomorrow goes.
Monday, 7 June 2010
A Message from Max
Max sent me some important health advice...
Q: Doctor, I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Your heart only good for so many beats, and that it...don't waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speeding up heart not make you live longer; it like saying you extend life of car by driving faster. Want to live longer? Take nap.
Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiency. What does cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So steak is nothing more than efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef also good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And pork chop can give you 100% of recommended daily allowance of vegetable product.
Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that mean they take water out of fruity bit so you get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made of grain. Bottom up!
Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have body and you have fat, your ratio one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio two to one, etc.
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No pain...good!
Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTENING! Food are fried these day in vegetable oil. In fact, they permeated by it. How could getting more vegetable be bad for you?!?
Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only be doing sit-up if you want bigger stomach.
Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: Are you crazy?!? HEL-LO-O!! Cocoa bean! Another vegetable! It best feel-good food around!
Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for your figure, explain whale to me..
Q: Is getting in shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' a shape!
Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
And remember:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO-HOO, what a ride!!"
AND.....
For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.
1. The Japanese eat very little fat
and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat
and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
3. The Chinese drink very little red wine
and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine
and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
5. The Germans drink a lot of beer and eat lots of sausages and fats
and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
CONCLUSION:
Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Fat Woman Slim
Do I really eat too much? Answers on a deep-fried post card please!
Yesterday, I ate.... Hang on! This sounds like that memory game where you have to remember what everyone went to the shop and bought. The list just keeps getting longer (for the shopping game, not yesterday's meals).
1 bowl of sugar-free Swiss style museli (museli volume around size of fist)
semi-skimmed milk
Benecol
numerous cups of tea (milk, no sugar)
2 apples
8 Jaffa cakes
2 slices of baguette (flat, about the size of my palm), toasted with jam and marg
some knobbles of Cheddar cheese, size totalling 1 x 1 x 7 cm
3 light strawberry mousse tubs (about 95 cals each)
mashed potato (size of fist, maybe slightly larger)
carrots and French beans
chicken (maybe less than size of fist)
water
Thats it. I also spent an hour messing around with the kids in the swimming pool - no, not exactly exercise, but movement nonetheless.
This is a fairly typical day. Yes, I know the Jaffa cakes and mousse are bad, but am I REALLY eating too much? Do slim people actually eat less than this?
Yesterday, I ate.... Hang on! This sounds like that memory game where you have to remember what everyone went to the shop and bought. The list just keeps getting longer (for the shopping game, not yesterday's meals).
1 bowl of sugar-free Swiss style museli (museli volume around size of fist)
semi-skimmed milk
Benecol
numerous cups of tea (milk, no sugar)
2 apples
8 Jaffa cakes
2 slices of baguette (flat, about the size of my palm), toasted with jam and marg
some knobbles of Cheddar cheese, size totalling 1 x 1 x 7 cm
3 light strawberry mousse tubs (about 95 cals each)
mashed potato (size of fist, maybe slightly larger)
carrots and French beans
chicken (maybe less than size of fist)
water
Thats it. I also spent an hour messing around with the kids in the swimming pool - no, not exactly exercise, but movement nonetheless.
This is a fairly typical day. Yes, I know the Jaffa cakes and mousse are bad, but am I REALLY eating too much? Do slim people actually eat less than this?
Thursday, 20 May 2010
As if I didn't have enough to worry about.
Being obese leads to heart disease, diabetes, bad joints and now, as if I didn't have enough to worry about, it apparently also leads to dementia. Obesity, high cholesterol and diabetes all mean you are more likely to spend your dotage dribbling in a chair. Great.
Max, on the other hand, has suggested I may have a sugar addiction. It is not as unlikely as it seems. It would certainly explain the screaming abdabs when I don't get my 'fix'. It appears that you can get addicted to complex carbohydrates too, because a digestion breakdown product of complex carbs mimics endorphins.
In other words, after you've eaten a big meal, you feel happy, relaxed and possibly sleepy. This nice feeling is something you want to repeat, so next time you are hungry, you eat again. I'm guessing this is not rocket science. This is fairly basic biology. It's the way babies learn which foods are good - i.e. the ones that make them feel happy, relaxed and sleepy.
What is interesting, is that this endorphin mimic combats stress. In lab tests, rats given opiates (so they weren't stressed anymore) showed a marked disinterest in their normal carbohydrate diet. In plain English, if rats are high, they don't want to eat.
So, obviously, I need to replace my stress and carb cravings with some sort of opiate. A few favourite contenders spring rapidly to mind: opium, heroin, morphine and pethidine, for example.
On the down side, pethidine makes me vomit, which reduces the feeling of well-being somewhat (although it is great for the weight loss), and the others are Class A drugs. Besides, I don't know if I fancy swapping my rotund, buxom body for the gaunt, pale, haggard look of heroin chic, even if it does mean I'll escape obesity induced dementia.
Max, on the other hand, has suggested I may have a sugar addiction. It is not as unlikely as it seems. It would certainly explain the screaming abdabs when I don't get my 'fix'. It appears that you can get addicted to complex carbohydrates too, because a digestion breakdown product of complex carbs mimics endorphins.
In other words, after you've eaten a big meal, you feel happy, relaxed and possibly sleepy. This nice feeling is something you want to repeat, so next time you are hungry, you eat again. I'm guessing this is not rocket science. This is fairly basic biology. It's the way babies learn which foods are good - i.e. the ones that make them feel happy, relaxed and sleepy.
What is interesting, is that this endorphin mimic combats stress. In lab tests, rats given opiates (so they weren't stressed anymore) showed a marked disinterest in their normal carbohydrate diet. In plain English, if rats are high, they don't want to eat.
So, obviously, I need to replace my stress and carb cravings with some sort of opiate. A few favourite contenders spring rapidly to mind: opium, heroin, morphine and pethidine, for example.
On the down side, pethidine makes me vomit, which reduces the feeling of well-being somewhat (although it is great for the weight loss), and the others are Class A drugs. Besides, I don't know if I fancy swapping my rotund, buxom body for the gaunt, pale, haggard look of heroin chic, even if it does mean I'll escape obesity induced dementia.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Do my thinking for me.
I made another attempt to get the medical profession to deal with my raised blood sugar levels. I am regularly getting early morning readings over 8, which is frankly pants. It has shot up in the past six months. It is even worse than it was two months ago, but can I get a so-called professional to even listen to me? Not a hope.
I got nowhere with the doctor last time, so I thought I would book straight into the diabetic clinic and see a nurse. Maybe I could get some sense out of someone who deals with the disease day in and day out.
I made the appointment, and within an hour the nurse had phoned back to tell me I wasn't diabetic. I'm not on the diabetic list and what's more I shouldn't be using my blood sugar meter!
You are kidding me, right? I should just get ill and wait until the gods in the NHS deem me sufficiently sick to be trusted with using a simple kit. Excellent.
Maybe I should not use my bathroom scales either, then I wouldn't be fat. There are a whole load of possibilities if I take this idea into my everyday life. If I don't use traffic lights, there is no traffic. If I don't use deodorant, I won't smell. If I don't look at my bank account, I won't be overdrawn. How simple my life could be! I would never have to take responsibility for anything ever again.
Oh great and glorious NHS gods!
Please do my thinking for me!
I am not worthy.
I am not worthy.
I am not worthy.
Amen
I got nowhere with the doctor last time, so I thought I would book straight into the diabetic clinic and see a nurse. Maybe I could get some sense out of someone who deals with the disease day in and day out.
I made the appointment, and within an hour the nurse had phoned back to tell me I wasn't diabetic. I'm not on the diabetic list and what's more I shouldn't be using my blood sugar meter!
You are kidding me, right? I should just get ill and wait until the gods in the NHS deem me sufficiently sick to be trusted with using a simple kit. Excellent.
Maybe I should not use my bathroom scales either, then I wouldn't be fat. There are a whole load of possibilities if I take this idea into my everyday life. If I don't use traffic lights, there is no traffic. If I don't use deodorant, I won't smell. If I don't look at my bank account, I won't be overdrawn. How simple my life could be! I would never have to take responsibility for anything ever again.
Oh great and glorious NHS gods!
Please do my thinking for me!
I am not worthy.
I am not worthy.
I am not worthy.
Amen
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Sugar.
1. I have lost a pound.
2. My sugar is now over 8 in the morning.
3. I don't think my doctor is really addressing the problem.
4. Going to continue the not eating campaign in the hope that I live long enough to benefit from the results.
5. Not happy. Very worried.
2. My sugar is now over 8 in the morning.
3. I don't think my doctor is really addressing the problem.
4. Going to continue the not eating campaign in the hope that I live long enough to benefit from the results.
5. Not happy. Very worried.
Friday, 19 February 2010
Last in a Long Line of Resolutions.
OK, so I'm not normal, apparently. Max knew I was going to put that. He says that with what I eat and the amount of exercise I do, I should be as thin as a racing snake, or at the very least losing some weight. He noted that the lack of exercise I've been getting over the winter has had no effect at all on my weight and suggested that something was 'broken'.
So I went for a barrage of tests and they all came back normal, apart from the blood sugar, which is up a bit, but they don't seem to want to treat it. So WTF am I going to do?
I have tried Weight Watchers, healthy eating, lots of exercise and cutting out treats. None of them make an iota's difference to my weight, which is a constant 13st 1 at the moment. I have changed jobs to reduce the stress. Still no effect (well, a few pounds, but nothing to write home about).
Clearly, I must be deluding myself about how much junk I'm eating and how much effect it has on my body. I am surely deluding myself about the amount of exercise I do. Maybe all those sessions at the gym were not the heart pumping, fat burning experiences I thought they were. I need to do more and eat less.
So, I am going to stop eating. No, I don't mean fasting completely. That would last until about lunchtime. I'm going to stop having meals altogether and just eat a slice of toast or an orange or something pathetically small until such time as my body shrinks, my blood sugar normalises or I kill someone due to hunger induced bad temper.
So I went for a barrage of tests and they all came back normal, apart from the blood sugar, which is up a bit, but they don't seem to want to treat it. So WTF am I going to do?
I have tried Weight Watchers, healthy eating, lots of exercise and cutting out treats. None of them make an iota's difference to my weight, which is a constant 13st 1 at the moment. I have changed jobs to reduce the stress. Still no effect (well, a few pounds, but nothing to write home about).
Clearly, I must be deluding myself about how much junk I'm eating and how much effect it has on my body. I am surely deluding myself about the amount of exercise I do. Maybe all those sessions at the gym were not the heart pumping, fat burning experiences I thought they were. I need to do more and eat less.
So, I am going to stop eating. No, I don't mean fasting completely. That would last until about lunchtime. I'm going to stop having meals altogether and just eat a slice of toast or an orange or something pathetically small until such time as my body shrinks, my blood sugar normalises or I kill someone due to hunger induced bad temper.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Tantrum
I remember XX, who was diabetic, throwing irrational tantrums everytime he got tired and short of sugar. I have started doing the same thing.
He used to punch people. One time he drove home from work so short of sugar that he drove off the road into a hedge. The poor policeman that pulled him out of the car tried to see what the dog-tags round his neck said. XX thought he was being robbed and punched the young copper. Next thing XX knew, he was waking up in hospital, feeling a bit rough. He went into work the next day, but the assaulted policeman stayed home with concussion. Fortunately he didn't press charges.
Today, I had a full day working, which wiped me out. I got in and really just needed to lie down. I didn't get the chance and by the time my husband got home, I was ready to flip. I ended up screaming and throwing kitchen items around and basically having a complete toddler tantrum, which is somewhat unbecoming of a middle-aged lady.
When I checked my sugar it wasn't low. It was 6.7, which is fairly normal. It is however, a whole point below what my fasting sugar has been running at. Basically, despite the fact I have plenty of sugar in my system, I can't get at it. Or maybe I'm just turning in to someone who throws violent hissy fits if they get a bit tired.
Good God, I hope not.
He used to punch people. One time he drove home from work so short of sugar that he drove off the road into a hedge. The poor policeman that pulled him out of the car tried to see what the dog-tags round his neck said. XX thought he was being robbed and punched the young copper. Next thing XX knew, he was waking up in hospital, feeling a bit rough. He went into work the next day, but the assaulted policeman stayed home with concussion. Fortunately he didn't press charges.
Today, I had a full day working, which wiped me out. I got in and really just needed to lie down. I didn't get the chance and by the time my husband got home, I was ready to flip. I ended up screaming and throwing kitchen items around and basically having a complete toddler tantrum, which is somewhat unbecoming of a middle-aged lady.
When I checked my sugar it wasn't low. It was 6.7, which is fairly normal. It is however, a whole point below what my fasting sugar has been running at. Basically, despite the fact I have plenty of sugar in my system, I can't get at it. Or maybe I'm just turning in to someone who throws violent hissy fits if they get a bit tired.
Good God, I hope not.
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
Thought for the Day
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
I must not eat half a frozen cheesecake.
Friday, 15 January 2010
Enforced Inactivity.
Thank God the snow is starting to melt. I don't know about you, but I have been stuck indoors for what feels like weeks. It has been a nightmare trying to get out in the snow to do anything. I haven't managed to do any of the active stuff I like doing. I can't get to the pool or go climbing or get to the gym or anything.
All this inactivity makes me tired to. The less I do, the less I want to do. It's like the will to act disappears and the desire to slump asserts itself. I've found myself pacing the house not able to settle to anything. I mean there's plenty to do. I could give the place a good clean up for a start, but I don't want to do anything. Even watching a film all the way through is a test of concentration I don't feel up to!
My blood sugar levels are fairly constant. I've done them every day first thing in the morning and they range between 6.9 and 7.9 without fail. This is not good. Prior to pregnancy my fasting sugar was almost always 4.5.
I have religiously ticked off what I'm eating, in terms of food groups and once again I'm eating too much bad stuff, even though I am trying to avoid it. It's like my brain just switches into idiot mode when it sees and ice-cream. Doh! I ate it again.
WHY can't I stop myself? What the hell is wrong with me? Didn't Britney Spears sing a song about that? ('Oops I did it again' or something like that.) I want to bang my head against a door in frustration. Hell, she probably did a song about that too. (Oh, no, it was 'Don't go knocking on my door.' I was close.)
I wish I could afford to go to Fat Camp or Anti-Fat Camp or whatever it is. I'd probably hate every minute, having all my freedom removed, but it seems to be freedom of choice that defeats me everytime. If I had no freedom of choice I couldn't sin. Damn, I am so frustrated by this.
Yours, still weighing 13st 3, and slowly going nuts with it,
Jem
All this inactivity makes me tired to. The less I do, the less I want to do. It's like the will to act disappears and the desire to slump asserts itself. I've found myself pacing the house not able to settle to anything. I mean there's plenty to do. I could give the place a good clean up for a start, but I don't want to do anything. Even watching a film all the way through is a test of concentration I don't feel up to!
My blood sugar levels are fairly constant. I've done them every day first thing in the morning and they range between 6.9 and 7.9 without fail. This is not good. Prior to pregnancy my fasting sugar was almost always 4.5.
I have religiously ticked off what I'm eating, in terms of food groups and once again I'm eating too much bad stuff, even though I am trying to avoid it. It's like my brain just switches into idiot mode when it sees and ice-cream. Doh! I ate it again.
WHY can't I stop myself? What the hell is wrong with me? Didn't Britney Spears sing a song about that? ('Oops I did it again' or something like that.) I want to bang my head against a door in frustration. Hell, she probably did a song about that too. (Oh, no, it was 'Don't go knocking on my door.' I was close.)
I wish I could afford to go to Fat Camp or Anti-Fat Camp or whatever it is. I'd probably hate every minute, having all my freedom removed, but it seems to be freedom of choice that defeats me everytime. If I had no freedom of choice I couldn't sin. Damn, I am so frustrated by this.
Yours, still weighing 13st 3, and slowly going nuts with it,
Jem
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Another Fresh Start.
Oh yes, I am sooo positive. I am going to be slim and beautiful. I am going to have a wardrobe to die for. I am going to be fit and healthy and live to be a hundred and ten. I am going to count food. I am not going to get too busy and lose faith. I am going to be a goddess. I will accurately judge portion sizes. I will easily eschew excess. I will float through life, light as a fairy. All this I will achieve before Easter. I am that superwoman.
Day 1: 13st 3, fasting sugar 7.9
Day 2 13st 3, fasting sugar 7.6
Day 3 13st 2, fasting sugar 7.1
See? It's already happening.....
(NB for those not oh fay with blood-sugar levels, a healthy fasting sugar level should be below 5. Two hours after a meal blood sugar should not be above 8. It certainly shouldn't be nearly 8 a good 13 hours after the last morsel passed my lips.)
Day 1: 13st 3, fasting sugar 7.9
Day 2 13st 3, fasting sugar 7.6
Day 3 13st 2, fasting sugar 7.1
See? It's already happening.....
(NB for those not oh fay with blood-sugar levels, a healthy fasting sugar level should be below 5. Two hours after a meal blood sugar should not be above 8. It certainly shouldn't be nearly 8 a good 13 hours after the last morsel passed my lips.)
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