Wednesday, 1 March 2017

Battle of the Bulge

Bah humbug!

My clothes were starting to feel a little bit tight all over. Lie. My clothes have been a bit tight all over for a while now.  Do I buy bigger clothes or try to lose weight? I hate clothes shopping. Ugh. Last February I made an effort to eat less, move more, blah, blah, blah.  I hardly had any alcohol and I started going for a walk around the block (1.1kms) after tea some nights.  It made no difference as I discovered when I gave blood at the end of the month.  In fact I’d put on a couple of kilos.


This month I thought I’d make a concerted effort. How my clothes fit could be considered subjective, so I added scales to the experiment for an objective assessment.


6 am, 01 February 2017 = 76.9 kg.


01 – 28 Feb = no wine, no soft drink, no chocolate, not one tiny bit, zip, zilch, nothing. I could have partaken in febfast and raised a motza for disadvantaged young people aged 12-25 across the country. But (never start a sentence with but) I wasn't doing this to raise money, I wasn't doing this for any one else. I was just doing this for me.


It wasn’t easy at first, but like giving up smoking, I had to do it cold turkey. Instead of snacking on crap most nights in front of the telly, if I did have to snack, it was usually plain yoghurt. I’ve never enjoyed yoghurt, but plain had half the sugar of flavoured.  I had the whole tub to myself because no one else in the house like plain yoghurt.  My guilty snack was Arnott’s Barbecue shapes. Original recipe of course.  Any other time, I’m doing well if I can make the box last 2 nights.  This box has lasted a whole month! Unbelievable, but true.


EVERY night except Friday (and some of them were included) I either went for a walk of 2 laps around the block (2.2km) or around the streets for more (4+ km according to the phone app), or a few laps in the backyard pool followed by treading water for 20 minutes, or Lisa Curry’s key workout moves from a recent New Idea, only to discover the next day muscles I didn’t know I had, or a sweat filled 30 minutes on a walking machine.  If my tall 17 yo son came with me for the first lap around the block, then it became a cardio work out as well. His legs are so much longer than mine and he struggles to walk as slowly as me and my short legs. I believe these activities come under the category of eh eh eh exercise.


Anyone who knows me knows I struggle to say the ‘E’ word and the mere thought of it would make want to wash my mouth out with wine and chocolate.


It wasn’t easy, I wanted to cheat, I wanted to give up. I didn’t.


I approached the scales with caution this morning.


6 am, 01 March 2017 = 76.6 kg

300 grams difference. Not 3000 grams or 3 kgs. Three hundred grams. WTF?  It was suggested that with the ‘E’ effort I had been putting in, maybe the weight was just redistributed. Sadly, no. My clothes are still just as tight and everything else is still just as saggy.


Was I expecting miracles? Was I expecting to be trim, taught and terrific? Was I expecting a flat tummy? No, no and no. Was I hoping to lose 2.5 – 3 kgs and generally feel a bit better within myself? Yes.


Bah humbug!

This afternoon I had a dark chocolate Baci and tonight I am having a glass of white wine AND I’m going to finish the box of Barbecue Shapes.






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