Against The Rain

More than anything, I suppose this is just an entry to say that I am still alive, still dieting, and still going up and down like the proverbial yo-yo. NaNoWriMo is now over, so that's one less stressor, but it's also a loss of a distraction. I've been so hungry this week, it's quite bizarre. It's of course that Time of the Month, although...I don't know. I'm desperate to get into the sixties, and it's tantalisingly close. I think this morning I was about 70.5kg, so...yeah. Not that I would usually weigh during the week, but I was being naughty. My weight was about 71.5kg a couple hours ago, but I only know that because I was stressing over the weight of a box and that was the handiest way to check. Huh.

But yeah, Christmas is coming, and with it the usual downpour of sweet things. I've already decided to break on Christmas Day, but otherwise? I am going to be saying no to any and all offerings of seasonal joy in edible form. It already seems to be pissing off at least one person at work, who got very snotty today. We were planning Secret Santa, and I said: "Look, much as I'd appreciate the thought, any food I'm given? Will be eaten by my brother." It wasn't as if I was being snarky when I said it, nor is it that no-one I work with isn't aware already that I am on a very restrictive diet. But yeah, one person was being quite vocal about how it's "all for fun" and we should "like what we get" so...I don't know. But my brother's always hungry anyway, so there's that.

Otherwise, I wore a medium dress to work today; bright red for the first day of December, and a couple of my workmates were saying that if I lost much more weight, there'd be nothing left of me. Which is a bit hilarious, as I still have twenty kilograms to go. My mother was also chatting to me on the phone and asked me what I wanted for Christmas; she said "There are a lot of pretty things here, but I have no idea what size you are now." "Oh, twelve." "Twelve?" Then she asked how much I'd lost, I replied only ten kilograms, and got "Only?" back. Huh. But yeah, to be honest, I am baffled by my drop from an eighteen to a twelve while only losing ten kilograms in between. Weird, if you ask me, but I guess from here on in the size drop will be less rapid?

I am looking forward to getting my jeans back from being altered on Friday, though. I bought some size twelves in my favourite style on Saturday in what I thought was advance of need, knowing that I would need the legs shortened and that it takes the dry cleaner four days to do it, but...they fit already. And my size fourteen ones are bothering me right now because they're too loose around even my monster ass, so...go figure? I just wish the actual weight wasn't being so slow about shifting, as it's going to take at least three or four months longer than I'd thought. And already the lack of chocolate is driving me to distraction, although that could just be Christmas. Seriously, I bought a box of Favourites for packing with my parcels in the weekend and I could have murdered one of those baby Moro bars. Fortunately I didn't, but...yeah. Temptation sucks.

Right now, though, I best go do some writing, have a shower, and then read some Japanese before bed. I'll still be hungry, but at least I won't be able to dwell on it...

End Week Eight

I've been really slack with this blog, mostly because November is the month of the infamous NaNoWriMo writing challenge, and most of my energy has gone into that. I also had an exam in Japanese towards the start of the month, and since then have acquired a shiny new electronic Japanese dictionary...so, inbetween writing and working, I've been studying Japanese with slightly renewed gusto.

The diet, however, is continuing. I've had a couple of "slips," although I hesitate slightly to name them that because I would consider a slip more to be something unplanned. I have never eaten something I shouldn't have on the fly because I couldn't say no. Which considering days like Friday, is amazing (at work I was offered my favourite Cookie Time cookies, Jaffas, and an ice-cream, all within four hours...and I was having a Hungry Day just to top it off. I ate none of these things). Basically I had a slice of cake at a writer's group meeting -- which I'd known about since about a month beforehand -- and then I had dinner at my work do. I wasn't going to do Christmas, but as we're now apparently going to a relative's house, I may end up having Christmas lunch after all. I don't know. While this diet works better if you stick at it one hundred percent all the time, I find that if I don't allow the odd exception -- not weekly, monthly at worst -- my motivation hits rock bottom. So...yeah. We'll see. I do know that when I go to Perth I won't be able to keep the diet up, although what is important to me is that I have learned that eating healthy isn't a burden. Not being able to have the odd treat sucks, but even when I go to Perth I'm going to keep making healthy choices. It's not a week to be a pig. It's a week in the real world, that's all.

I weighed myself this morning, of course. 71.4kg. How much I've lost depends on where you start from -- my official start weight was 83kg, I was closer to 80kg when I went on plan, and my worst known weight was about 87kg in April or thereabouts -- but it's still pretty amazing when I consider it. I've gone from a size 18 to a size 14, and my size 12 skirt from Blue Banana arrived the other day; it's too small to wear, but I can get it on. So...I'm having little victories. The other day I was in town and Pascoes had a one-day sale, so I bought my eight-week gift a little early. It's an unusual setting of amethyst and a tiny diamond, a ring to wear and remind me of what I am working towards.

I had a fairly significant loss this week, and I assume it's because I made a real effort to drink more water this week. I'll keep it up next week and see what happens. I also bought body analysis scales the other day and am apparently 45% water, 6.6% bone, and 35% fat. Wow, I'm like a fucking tub of jelly. So, from that perspective...don't stop me now? <g>

Chewing the Cud

When I was twelve years old, I went on my first big trip overseas with about twenty other kids from my intermediate. We spent roughly three and a half weeks in Tacoma on a school exchange, and then went to Los Angeles for fun and games. It was all very strange and wonderful and will always be an experience I am so glad my parents worked for me to have, but there were a few odd things I noticed about the States while I was there. And one of them was chewing gum.

I've never been a chewer of gum. Which is odd, because one reason I can eat a lot of food in one sitting is because I don't suck sweets or lick ice-creams or whatever. I just chomp my way through them. (Probably one reason why I never really took to humbugs, actually; they're far too hard to do that with. My flatmates in Sheffield couldn't understand why I'd bought a huge jar of them when we went to Scarborough for a daytrip to the seaside, because I was never seen to eat them. Partially it was because they just reminded me of my English nana, but it was also because I simply couldn't eat them without breaking my teeth!) But while I was in the States at the age of twelve, I was constantly offered gum. I rarely took it. But now...there are probably six packets of gum on my desk. At least. Two of them are open -- I have two flavours on the go -- but...it's a bit odd. I can have up to five pieces a day, and I find them great after meals or inbetween to just...have something to do with my mouth, now that I'm not filling it full of crap at every given opportunity. Go figure.

I'm in a surprisingly upbeat mood today, although I keep thinking I haven't lost any weight this week. Tomorrow will tell, I suppose. But speaking of trips, I think I'm showing my privilege by having realised yesterday that I am just not happy unless I have an overseas trip in the pipeline. It's not that I travelled much as a kid -- as I said, my first real overseas trip (not counting the fact I lived in Queensland for about a year when I was an infant) was at the age of twelve, and then I didn't go overseas again until I went to Melbourne for a university trip at twenty-one. But then, after graduating, I started averaging maybe two trips a year? At least. Living in the UK skews it incredibly. But I've been unsure of my plans for next year because of both this diet and my parents' having moved to Australia and leaving the house in the care of me and my brother, so...I decided to take the week of my birthday off. And I figure I might take that and go to Western Australia to see my parents. It's related to the diet, mind you, in that this is early/mid February I'm talking here and surely by then I should be approaching Bikini Babe status. Not that I ever expect to actually be a babe, but...Australian heat and a town where no-one has a fucking clue who I am or where I'm from? Holy shit, that's probably the best time EVER to wear a bikini for the first time in my life.

In the meantime, I did the happy dance in a supermarket today because I found turkey breast. Finally! It's not a common meat in New Zealand outside of Christmas time, so...a change from chicken! I also felt pleased because I was wearing my size sixteen jeans and my ZOMBIE: EAT FLESH t-shirt, which was always a little too tight before but is now definitely loose. It was also appropriate, it being Halloween tomorrow. It tends to cause people to double-take, too, but for once I was happy to have people looking at me. I caught sight of myself a few times in shop windows, and...yeah. I'm changing. It's incredible.

I must stop spending money, mind you. I bought some DKNY Be Delicious perfume, because it's bright and summery and so New York. It's also rather expensive. But...I want to spend money being pretty. This is progress. So...I might allow it. Just a bit longer, anyway. <3

End Week Four

...well, that's the end of the first month on the programme. I weighed in this morning and recorded a loss of 1.2kg, bringing my current weight to 75.2kg. It's very slightly irritating in that I was really hoping to get under seventy-five before the end of this week as that would take me out of the "obese" category on my Wii, but the fact that I got that much...is fantastic.

Overall, I just need to be more positive. The end of the second week was completely insane for me, as this programme generally has people losing an average of eight to ten kilograms their first month, and I've not quite managed five. I think I need to remember that I actually lost four or five kilograms before I even started, and my body's been doing some odd things because of it. I'm not sure what I was at my heaviest, but my Wii records it as just under eighty-six kilograms, so this? Is amazing. I need to really realise that, I think, but between the responses I've had on this blog and at the local forums, it's becoming so much easier to just calm down and run with it.

Yesterday, being Saturday, was my shopping day -- and already I am beginning to enjoy it a lot more than I ever have. It's also a stat holiday weekend, meaning: sales! I got vouchers from three of the four places I hit up with my credit card, and am particularly looking forward to spending my $50 Max voucher when I drop another size. But I was at Max for more workclothes; I got a kimono-styled blouse, a groovy skirt, and another pair of tights as the ones I bought last week already are too big. Awesome. I've also officially dropped a size in my favourite jeans; I bought the old pair before Mexico and they fit perfectly. Now I have a size down and they fit perfectly. I have the feeling I'm going to buy a pair every time I drop. It's kind of wasteful, I guess, but it's a strange little way of reminding myself of how far I've come.

I also bought myself a tangible reminder. I wanted a ring, but I bought a butterfly pendant instead. I rarely buy jewellery for myself, at least not expensive jewellery, because I don't think I'm worth it. Well, here I am, thinking I'm worth it. I chose it because it's beautiful, but also because I am tired of the cocoon of fat I've been living in all these years. It's time to grow my wings. It's time to get out. It's time to fly. And like the touchstone of my emerging collarbones, I now have a little butterfly at the base of my throat to remind me of what I am doing, and why. It's for me. Nothing more, and certainly never ever nothing less.

Lucky Charms

I seem to have developed something of a touchstone, or a lucky charm when it comes to my weightloss. As anyone who has lost weight can tell you, as the kilograms start to come off you start discovering things about your body that you'd forgotten or else simply never noticed before. When I first moved to England a few years back, I lost a few kilograms through stress and depression (I have no idea even now how much; I gained it all back, but that was back in the days when I was in complete denial about my weight problem anyway). During that time I found my hipbones again. Just...yeah. This time around my hipbones haven't really made an appearance yet -- though they are coming -- but I have been distracted by my emerging collar bones.

They're certainly not prominent. I doubt anyone can see them but me. But...I keep finding that during the day, I will rub the tips of the three fingers of my left hand over my right collarbone. I'm not sure why. It's not like it's really obvious or anything. But it just...feels different. More real. Less hazy. It really is like a touchstone, something to remind myself that yes the weight is coming off, that no it isn't my imagination. Because I often look in the mirror in the morning and think "You haven't lost anything at all, you liar." Even though my clothes say otherwise. So...yes. It's an odd little feeling, but not an unpleasant one. It's like the return journey of an old friend, who is sending letters on a regular basis to say "Here I am! I am coming! I will be with you again soon!"

...yeah, so, I'm cracking up on this diet. How are you? <g>

Rewards

It's been a bit of an odd day -- I didn't have to go to work as I had chosen to stay home for my oral Japanese exam. In theory I could have gone to work and ducked out for a couple of hours, or stayed home until it was over at three and gone in for a couple of hours, but work has stressed me out so much recently that I decided there was no point in doing it half-arsed. So, I stayed home and studied and then I did my test; I then went for a trip to the supermarket where I bought more asparagus -- which I actually intend to eat this time -- and then my mother and I went to see that stupid Eat Pray Love movie.

Two things about this whole scenario were a bit of a test, really. First of all, the exam: generally while I am doing exams, my already terrible eating habits will get invariably worse. Particularly this last year, because even while just studying on the weekends I would buy a bag of barbeque chips and eat the whole damn thing. Also, my Lift Plus consumption was at least a bottle a day. By some reserves of willpower I didn't even know I had I touched neither of these things during my long weekend of cramming, but it was actually worse when I went to the supermarket afterward. I'm of course accustomed to "rewarding" myself with food, though how I ever considered it a reward when I often had chocolate, chips, Lift Plus or whatever every day anyway, I'm not sure. I haven't really thought too much about how I am going to work these things back into my life afterwards, because...I will never avoid them completely. That's just unnecessary. But associating them with "rewards" seems a little dodgy, because the second I am down or depressed or upset I "reward" myself with food because I "deserve" it and want to feel better. But it never ever works. So...yeah. Walked out of that supermarket with nothing I shouldn't have.

The movie kind of sucked too because of the long lingering shots of pasta in Italy, though fortunately I am neither a fan of pasta nor Italy. And she hardly ate any gelato, which is fortunate because during my one weekend in Milan my sister and I lived on gelato. I'd say I'd love to try some of that Napoli pizza, but that would involve going to Naples. Ha ha ha. But even though I've never been a huge fan of popcorn at the movies, for some reason the last couple of times I'd had it (most memorably with my nephew, who divided our box into "his" and "mine" and then when he was sure I understood the concept promptly stuck his hand into MY side...four year olds, sheesh). Usually I'd just eat m&ms or something. Which my mother then bought. Fortunately I never really noticed her eating them, though the damn icecream she ate through the credits was distracting. It was probably worse on the way home, though, because she decided to get McDonald's for herself and my brother. She asked me if I wanted some. "No." "Oh, once won't hurt!"

...yeah. It will. It messes up the biochemistry I've got going for starters, but even then that's not really it. It's more...I have so very little willpower. And even though I sat there with their damned McDonald's in my lap the whole way home I knew I didn't really want to eat it. That's probably never really been the problem. The problem is that I am a lazy cow. I don't like to cook, I don't like to clean, I don't like to take some damned responsibility for what does and doesn't go into my body. So, taking the easy road, even for a detour? Will not be a detour. It'll be a derailment. I'm not strong. I'm not focused. I'm just fucking terrified.

Otherwise, the last few days I've made the discovery that I really don't much care for feta cheese, and that maybe I should have my "pizza" once a week or so. It's basically just tomato and mushroom and green pepper and courgette and garlic all stir-fried together with some Italian herbs and dumped on a Salada before having mozzarella cheese melted all over it. I'm not actually a cheese fan so I can't eat it often -- the cheese being my protein is just too much cheese for me -- but as something different, it was lovely. Definitely will do again. Sometime this week I also want to give the mango smoothie and the ricotta coffee "cheesecake" a go, too, but...I'm not the adventurous sort, food-wise. That's probably the real reason I've managed to stick at this for so long. But...yeah. Into week four, now, and that's so much further than I ever thought I'd come.

End Week Three

So, finally I get around to returning to the blog. It's been a rough week all around, and not just because I was feeling down about the diet. There's just a lot of stuff going on at the moment, between work, family and exams, so...the temptation to stray is strong, though fortunately I haven't. I did go against what I had said earlier last week, where I wasn't going to weigh again until the end of week four, which is a week from now. I weighed today just because I had to know. My weight was about 76.4kg, which is a decrease of 800g. It doesn't feel like a lot, but my waist went from 85-86cm of last week to a very definite 83cm this week, so that is a victory. I've also discovered most of my workclothes are becoming unsuitable, in that they are too loose and therefore I can't wear them. So...yes. Progress, even if it's not as fast as I would like.

I do wonder if I am doing anything wrong on this diet, as most people continue losing large amounts of weight in the first few weeks. Not everyone, mind you, but then I suspect a lot of it is because they've got forty or fifty kg to lose, and I've only got thirty. So, I don't know. I'd like to average at least a kilogram a week, but I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. I can almost hope it's my cycle throwing things out here because my abdomen is aching in a horribly familiar way, ha ha ha. I don't know. But either way, it's going to be a long week and I should go do something about it.