Inch By Inch

I went shopping again last Friday night and it much less traumatic than the year before. There were plenty of things that fit me this time round. But so bloody expensive! Grrr. And so boring. This year the whole 50s kind of look is all the rage, and I am sad because there’s nothing in my size for it. I am obsessed with all things retro and kitschy and 50s, always have been. This time next year when I may finally be small enough for "normal" sizes, there’ll probably be some really hideous look happening.

I still got upset. I think that’s what happens when you shop with your tiny sister. We were in one shop full of lovely, classic clothes that I would love to wear, and of course there were a million things in there that looked absolutely perfect on her. All I can do is sit there on the chair outside the changerooms with the half dozen shopping bags from other stores full of clothes she looked perfect in, and smile and nod when she comes out of the stall and says "does this look okay?". And the salesladies give me that half-arsed pitying smile.

So I sat there trying to look casual, staring at the ceiling and the pictures of skinny models and slinky clothes, but inevitably I started to look in the mirrors and get all pissed off at my big blobby body. It’s hard to congratulate yourself on dropping a couple of sizes when you realise you still have another bazillion to go before you can shop in a normal store. I know it’s pathetic, but I got sick of looking at these people and how they fitted into those normal clothes, so I walked out of the shop and stood outside trying not to cry.

This "learning to be patient" thing is bloody hard.

Anyway, I had another re-assessment at the gym on Monday. It had only been 7 weeks since the last one but I am paying those vultures a LOT of money so I may as well make the most of their services. I was down another 5 kilos since the last one, woohoo! I also had my measurements taken again:

calves: down 2cm
thighs: down 4cm
hips: down 5cm
waist: down 6cm
boobs: down 7cm (!!!)
upper arm: down 1cm

For you non-metric fools, one inch = 2.5cm.

So I lost like 2 inches off my hips and waist, one off my calves, 2.5 inches of my boobs. No wonder I can’t find any goddamn bras! I was hoping for more off my arms but I guess it’s an arm and you can’t expect to lose the same kind of number as your big kahunas. But still, it’s so pleasing to see the differences on the tape measure.

I was very happy with this result. Fitness Chick Cathy wasn’t as jubilant as Fitness Chick Alison used to be. Then again Cathy is just a quieter person. But I wanted her to be as happy as me! I was bouncing off the walls.

And I made her feel my bicep.

I can’t bloody believe I did that. How embarrassing.

Oh! I lost 1.6 kilos this week so I FINALLY made that 40 kilos gone! Hurrah!

Work is absolutely insanely horrible and busy right now, hence the lack of updates and email replies. Thankyou to all the wonderful people who emailled me about bra shopping! You’re all brilliant.

Things should be better by approximately the middle of November. Haha! Thankyou for your patience. Please don’t give up on me.

Almost Summer

Spring has well and truly sprung here in the Southern Hemisphere, and since all of last year’s clothes are completely kaput, today I began that awful task of compiling a new wardrobe on a very limited budget.

I can now say without a doubt that there is not a single bra in this entire city that fits my boobs. I went to about 7 different places and I’m ready to tear my hair out. These days I’m about a size 22 (US 18) and a C cup. Do you think there is anything in that kind of size? Noooo. Either you have to have huge honking EEE cups or nothing at all. If you’re anything above a size 16 they assume you must have at least a DD to go with it. Apparently there’s no fat chicks that can only fill a C cup. There’s also an unwritten law that all fat chicks deserve is the most bloody ugly lacy shitty designs with bulky bows and crap so that you never get a nice clean line under your clothing. I would kill for a t-shirt bra, but here you can’t get a t-shirt bra in anything bigger than a 16 (US 12). That shits me no end.

So I am stuck with ONE bra that remotely fixed, cept it’s black so I can’t wear it under anything light, and the cups are now too big so you can see the excess fabric under my clothes. AAAAARGH. It’s frustrating beyond belief. If anyone here in Australia knows of anywhere online or wherever that you can get decent bras, please let me know!

I tried on some clothes since I have a total of ZERO spring-ish outfits to wear to work. Everything from last year is way too big. I found myself reaching for the traditional dark colours to hide in, and automatically ferretting out the biggest sizes. I was stunned to find I could get in the size 22 with no problems. Then I tried on a top in a bright apple green and found it went really well with my bright hair. So I bought it. No more hiding anymore! Now if only I could get a decent bra to put under it!

I know I should have been rejoicing that I was two sizes down from eight months ago, but I was still shitty. Shitty coz everything in the decent fat clothes was ridiculously expensive but really ugly. Shitty that the cheap fat clothes at Target were absolutely revolting. I may as well dip myself into a bowl of lurid polyester and be done with it. Shitty coz I am so so so SO far away from being able to find a bra without all this hassle. Shitty coz there’s so many pretty clothes in lovely colours and I am not small enough for any of it.

AAAaargh. I need to become more patient, I know.

Still slogging away at the gym. The weights are still playing havoc with the scales, but I chose not to focus on that now. I focus on my arms getting smaller and that I now seem to have an actual ANKLE forming, rather than this big tree trunk connecting my knee and foot. Even my toes look smaller. When I flex my foot I see the bones where before it was just a big slab.

Must be patient. Must. Be. Patient.

Ohh but my BOOBS! They shit me so much! Is there nothing in this world that can hold them down? Sometimes during Fitball class I swear to god I am going to get whacked in the face by them.

On Saturday I ran for a WHOLE MINUTE on the treadmill. Big whoop, I hear you say, but this is me we’re talking. 12 months ago it took me nearly half an hour to do a mile on the treadmill. Now my sis and I pick a treadmill side by side and do our little intervals. For the first 2 minutes of the interval we were walking flat out sooo fast then I said "wonder how much higher you have to put it so you have to run?". So we tried it out. Next thing we’re running along! Woohoo! It felt fantastic! I could feel my huge arse sproinging away like a couple of big jellies but I didn’t care. It was fun. When we finished the 30 minutes of cardio I said, "Now that was FUN!"

FUN? I can’t believe I said running and walking like a mofo was FUN. It’s amazing how things change.

So there’s a Big Family Event mid-October, which pisses me off greatly coz I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone til Christmas, when I thought by then surely there’d be a discernable difference in my appearance. Oh well. I doubt they’d have noticed anyway. I have to keep asking myself, are you doing this for yourself or are you doing it to be noticed? Well BOTH, I am sick of people acting like I am invisible just coz they don’t want to deal with my appearance. DEAL WITH ME, DAMMIT!

Oh I hope you don’t all mind me going back to my usual kind of entries, don’t think I am not thinking of you guys over there in the States. I do care a great deal and have been emailling some of you and hearing your thoughts. You’re a great bunch, you people, and more than I ever I value that you come here and you communicate with me and we get a little dialogue happening. If there’s any ideas you have about this place and how I can make it more interesting, be sure to let me know. Anyway, I’m thinking of yas.

In other news, you’ll be happy to know I’ve cut down my McFlurry consumption. That was getting way out of hand.

11 September 2001

I just wanted everyone to know i wrote the previous flippant tutti fruit entry on 11 September Australian time, many hours before the terrible events of the day. Just so you don’t think i was being disrespectful…

I’m still too shocked and speechless to write.

Tutti Fruiti

There’s an apple, an orange and a banana sitting beside me on my desk, and I can’t decide which one of them to eat. None of them are appealing to me right now. Why aren’t any of you Mars Bars? Useless bastards.

So I gained last night. An almighty 0.1kg, which equates to 0.22 of a pound. If I’d made another trip to the loo I’m sure I would have stayed the same. Mwahaha.

I didn’t get upset, I didn’t cry, but I made a brief statement of justification to the WW leader and the weigh-lady, describing briefly my rigorous weight-training schedule and the subsequent "fucked-up-ness" of my performance on the scales lately.

They were in complete agreement with me, saying that it would benefit me more in the long term to stick with the weight-training, the leader lady even threw in a heartwarming anecdote about a guy who climbed Everest and "If I looked at the whole mountain I’d never had climbed it. I just had to take it step by step". So despair not about your mountainous bulk, the WW team assured me, you’ll get there slowly but surely.

Though reassured by their words, I was thoroughly disgusted at myself for being such a whinging git. Why the need to justify that pissy little gain to them? Why do I need to justify anything? Week after week I see people at WW get on the scale and gain and say "Oh, it’s that time of the month, wink wink," or "Those chocolate biscuits were calling my name!" or "I didn’t have time to exercise!" or whatever. Excuse after excuse. I guess I just wanted everyone to know that I AM NOT LIKE YOU PEOPLE! I bust my ass at this weight-loss caper so don’t go thinking I am gonna give up! I am not one of you! I am not making excuses!


I went to the gym a couple of hours later for our "heavy night", in which we do 3 sets of 6 reps on about the nastiest weight you can manage without dying. I love the 3×6 night, I feel so strong and foxy afterwards. Plus I managed to do my entire 20 minutes of cardio without dying. I know 20 doesn’t sound like much but I’d already been dragged along by the dog for our daily walk, plus the hella heavy weights. I did a bit of an interval thing on the treadmill for that 20 mins, 3 minutes brisk pace then turn it right up so I am walking FLAT OUT for another three. Second interval I hoisted the treadmill onto the #5 incline and walked uphill. Ahh my calves! It was fantastic. It’s much more fun fooling round like that than to just walk at the same pace the whole time.

Speaking of weights, I received a copy of Weight Training Workouts That Work from my wishlist. But it said on the invoice thingy that I’d ordered it myself? Que? I am sure I would have noticed a big chunk out of my credit card ( prices converted to Aussie dollars is horrible). So which one of you lovely folks bought it for me? Please email me so I can thank you properly, I am very grateful and it’s a cracker of a book! Thanks so much! 🙂

So, it’s a new week and I am determined to do well. I booked myself another re-assessment at the gym on September 24, so I can get my measurments done again and see if there’s any difference. So that’s two weeks for me to KICK ASS so I can get the best possible assessment results.

Maybe if I chop up all the fruit onto a plate and make a banana mouth and apple wedge eyes like when I was kid, this fruit will seem more exciting? Hmmm.

A Step Backwards

So I’ve pretty much been hiding from this place after a lousy couple of weeks. Last Monday night I was spewing to find I’d gained 0.6kg (1.2lb). They had to move the slidey thing BACK UP. I was crushed.

For all my raving on about how "the scales don’t matter", all it takes is them not going my way for me to crumble. I took my card back from the weigh-lady and fled outside and promptly started crying.

It’s been a crazy, crazy week, with some extreme highs and lows and family happenings and work-related stresses, and I think it just took its toll on me. That gain felt to me like The End Of The World, I felt like my luck had finally run out and I was destined to stay this fat. I’d been so high, so full of hope and power, I think I was running on pure adrenaline at times. Then some non-diet things occurred and I fell in a heap. I just didn’t feel strong anymore. I felt like the whole past nine months was a fraud and the real me, the insecure, out of control, fearful me, was back.

I also discovered Crunchie McFlurry’s, and have eaten no less than three of them this week.

But while all that went on, I’ve been sticking to my gym regimen like clockwork. The weights program my friend designed for me really hammers me. I love it. It’s very challenging. No girly pink weights here, baby. I am seeing results already. My legs are amazingly strong, I guess that’s from lugging around my fat body for so long. I love the leg press, just coz I can press so damn much. Mwahaha. Even my weakling upper body is starting to get a bit of strength now, which is nice.

It alarms me to read of people vowing to do two hours of cardio a day in order to burn blubber. Do they really think they can keep that up? It’s all about finding something realistic and practical. And that gives results. I really wish I’d started the weights earlier. I’ve got more results in the past 6 weeks than I got from 6 months of endless cardio.

When I’m at that gym I feel so good about myself, I can see the changes in my body, I see how things are toning up and how I’m getting smaller. But that all goes to hell as soon as I get on that scale. I was so miserable last week, finally I had to get together with my friend (the one who set up my weights program) and she told me bluntly that the scales were going to be "pretty fucked up" for awhile, while I gained muscle and my body went through it’s "what the hell are you doing to me" phase. She told me I should get out the tape measure and forget about the scales altogether.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother with WW, coz it’s $16 a week to get weighed. But I fear if I don’t have that "oh god I gotta weigh on Monday" carrot dangling before me, I will be slack with my eating. But then I think about how that scale screws with my head, sometimes I think I should steer clear of it.

Bah. I don’t know what to do.

I think it’s all caught up with me this week, the enormity of the past 9 months and how much I’ve changed. I feel very tired and overwhelmed by how far I have to go. I feel burnt out. And tired. Very tired.

I’m very behind on emails. I’ve been in that dirty bitch of a mood so I thought I shouldn’t be writing back to people when I’m in that frame of mind. So I sincerely apologise.

Weigh-in tonight. I’ll try not to go crazy if I gain again. Can’t promise though.

Bah. I will get past this. Don’t go thinking I’m giving up or anything.