Weigh-in: 4.5 lbs loss
Cordelia has effectively jumped up and down on Walter Fat Brains’ head this week. It has been a week of hard work in more ways than one, and most definitely worth it. This weigh-in has cemented my previously wavering thoughts about it being okay to party. It is definitely okay to indulge and indeed over-indulge, as long as it’s not a regular habit, and you get plenty of exercise round about. I may contradict myself on this point in a few weeks’ time, so I’ll need to add this to my positivity page as a reminder. I think I may need to draw pictures of Walter and Cordelia also.
My list-writing self is in hyperdrive this week, as lots of mini-goals are within touching distance. This is the thing that keeps me going most – crossing things off (I have no idea why.) Let’s just examine my freakish number of goals for a second: I’ve hit my 10% goal and I’ll be adding my keyring (which hasn’t arrived yet) to the other one on my car keys. It’s there as a reminder that I’ve been here before, and will not be adding a third one.
I only need to lose 1lb to get to 170 lbs, a target on my goals list, and am only 2 lbs away from my third silver seven and 21lbs gone forever – this also sees the Stone Hump. I am petrified of this. To aid in my Hump Passover I also have the prospect of Happy Wardrobe Dance ver. 2 in just 4lbs time.
I am also due another progress photograph next week if I lose on the scales , which I will show as a timeline when I get to the halfway stage. I have photos at roughly 7lb intervals, in three-quarter running tights and a bra-top (not a pretty sight!) and I’m hoping to begin to see a difference in them. I see a difference in the mirror already around my face and stomach/lovehandles, but when I look at photos I see nothing! How does that work?!!
This morning, in the mirror I noticed that my overhanging belly crease has disappeared, and is now just a very slight line where my overhang used to be. I can now also see my hip bones almost surfacing when I lie flat. Weird, but very cool. This also makes my one and only (very big) tattoo look better. Even cooler.
One of the things that has changed dramatically psychologically for me over the last few months is the control I now have over my eating habits. I used to boredom/emotional/binge eat a lot, and most of my over-eating is now limited, calculated and ‘known about’ – i.e it’s not ‘mindless eating’. This was pushed to the boundaries twice this week, and I had a 50% success rate.
Little Dog, Tilly, went to the vets to be neutered and have a benign lump in her side removed this week, and I dropped her off at the vet, feeling a little nervous. I know there are always risks putting pets under anaesthetic, but we have that many farm animals it’s a regular thing. By the time I left the surgery, I was a wreck. She’s only a little dog. She’s getting on a bit. What if they cant get the lump out? What if there’s a freak occurrence? What if the scalpel slips and she bleeds out right there on the table? Driving home I was looking for shops or places to stop and EAT. It took me 20 minutes to realize that’s what I was doing – and that’s the scary thing. Luckily I realized before I reached the town, and got Cordelia the Slim into action to keep me on the straight and narrow. I talked myself out of a binge, citing my previous gain and undoing all this weeks’ hard work as reasons. It worked.
Second time round I wasn’t so good. I’d agreed to cover a partial shift for someone at work on Tuesday. 3 hours of pottering around at work was fine. Technically, I outrank the member of staff I was working with, but as I was covering an assistant’s shift I gave her her place to be ‘in charge’ – no problems, no hassle and we both get on well. Half an hour into the shift, the regional manager calls our store (My boss’ Big Boss) and announces he will be on the shop floor in less than half an hour. Everyone knows that when he visits, it’s basically so he can pick holes in things. A big order had just arrived, the shop was a bombsite and Staff Member In Charge decided she didn’t want to deal with him. So I had to.
I went through a period in my life of basically having a nervous breakdown – including hair loss and insomnia (I talk about how this affected my weight in first and second posts) and blamed myself for being incompetent at work. The reality was that it was a combination of factors that caused me to get ill, including pressure put on me by my superiors and only a TINY bit of it was my fault. I only realize this in retrospect of course, and am now a more experienced person who survived a pretty serious bout of mental ill-health, and will never let anything get me into that state again.
I’d never met this man, and within seconds had sized him up, and he reminded me of some of my managers in my Old Life BFL (Before Farm Life). I knew exactly how to handle him, was not at all intimidated by his position, corporate bunny attitude, his self-absorbed persona and even challenged him on points he made. I also identified straight away that he was trying to talk me into (read: subtle psychological bullying) doing more hours at work and making a career out of the shop when I’ve only been in the door 2 minutes and am not in the slightest bit interested. (Which I also told him flat out, but made no difference – he was too busy stroking his own ego to understand what I was saying).
I think I handled the situation quite well, but I was not prepared for the impact it would have on me internally. I left work and got into the car and I realized I was sweating profusely, my gut was in a knot the Boy Scouts would have been proud of and my head was swimming. I don’t remember the drive home, and refused to speak to James about it when I came in the door.
Walter emerged like a lion stalking its prey with a sneering look and rubbing his filthy, chubby hands together. He knew he’d got me. I drank three glasses of wine, one bottle of beer (I ran out of wine) and ate a whole tub of full-fat tuna pasta in the space of an hour. Proper meltdown. An off-guard incident had left me feeling as if I’d landed slap-bang back in the middle of my breakdown – out of control. I recovered about 2 hours later and crashed out shortly thereafter.
The next morning I purposefully got up, filled in my tracker for the day and went to work. I ran 16 miles this week. I tracked every day, kept under my daily allowance, and didn’t touch my weeklies. Walter was NOT ruining my hard work. Cordelia meanwhile was excitedly egging me on all day in a less-ladylike-than-expected manner, (much to my amusement) and at weigh-in we won. Hell yeah did we win!
And that’s when it dawned on me – I’ve committed myself to changing for good – both physically and psychologically. That includes picking yourself up and carrying on when things get tough. What happened to me may seem very trivial, but that feeling of complete lack of control was devastating for me and nearly ruined my life in my early twenties – and I swore blind I would never get that sick ever again. I’ve kept that commitment ever since, and I now intend to do the same with my eating habits.
Be aware that it’s what you are doing too – whether it’s making a healthy habit like exercising, or cutting out bad foods – you are promising to give your body what it deserves, and look after it better. It’s a bit like Marriage – you may not like some of it, but it’s a lifelong commitment.