The Fat Came Back

I rocked up to the gym last night for Pump and the gym WAS CLOSED.

Not only was it closed, there was tape across the doors and a big fat security guard.

Apparently there’s been a "misunderstanding" between the building owners and the gym management. From the notice on the door it seemed to me they’d neglected to pay the rent.

Recently a friend of ours was joining the gym and the 12 month membership is now a whopping $695. There’s a bazillion people at that gym, why can’t they play the bloody rent?

Of course my first instinct was to panic and wonder what I’d do without the gym, there’s not one half as close to our house, the rest are yucky, rah rah rah. Worst of all I panicked because I took the week off last week…

(well that is a lie. I only took the week off from weights. I felt I needed a rest after a few months hard slog. So instead I did one class of each fitball, yoga and Body Jam [insane dance class])

… and was so ITCHING to get back into it and the gym was closed and would this mean the fat would come back?

I swear I could feel my body twitching to get in there. I almost cried. Yes, can you believe how things have changed around here, dear reader? I wanted to cry because I couldn’t exercise. Crikey.

Anyway, we’ve been assured the gym will be open on Wednesday. It bloody better be! ROAR!

So what’s new around here? I couldn’t tell you how much I weigh, the gym scales said 112 kg at my fitness assessment last Wednesday, but they always were kinder than the WW scales. I haven’t been back to WW yet. Things to do keep cropping up on Monday nights…

(Funny thing about losing weight, the more you lose the more outgoing you feel, the more you seem to get invited places, therefore the more tempations you are faced with. I had spaghetti bolognaise last night [not bad] with four small pieces of garlic bread [bad] but I can bounce back from that)

… so traipsing to the other side of the city to stand on the scale has not been a priority. But I seem to be doing okay. I had my measurments done during my fitness assessment and I’d lost another 3cm from both my upper arm and my calf. Usually you’re lucky to lose half a cm in those spots, but three! It’s the weights, I tells ya. My shape is changing. Also had good losses from chest, waist, hips and thigh. Woo.

My next gym challenge, should the bloody thing ever re-open, will be to try a Cycle Power class. I think that’s like Spinning or something. I just need to shake things up a little. That’s the key to busting your lard, folks. You have to try new things and surprise your lumpy body.

Things That Piss Me Off #437 – Inconsistent Clothing Sizes.

I found a nice skirt the other day and it was a size 20. It was even a little big around the waist. Woo, I said, woo, I am a size 20 at last! Soon I will be an 18 which sounds SO much better.

Then on Saturday I had a burning desire to have a pair of jeans. Why? Because my jeans are size 24 and huge. Also, I was going out on Saturday evening and was too lazy to shave my legs so I wanted jeans. I went to Grace Bros (a dept. store) and went to the BIB section (apparently stands for Big Is Beautiful… more like Big Is BloodyCrapPolyesterParadise) with my friend Jenny. This was strange for me as before I would never have let a size 8 friend know I was that big. But I don’t care so much now.

Anyway, the jeans were very ordinary but they would do. But they didn’t have any 20s! Bloody hell. I was sad. Jenny suggested we look at Jeans West, a "normal" shop catering mainly for slivers of teenage girls. But they had size 20 jeans. Woo. I went into the change room and went to put them on. Two minutes of intense wrestling and grunting later, they sucked at my legs like leeches. I somehow managed to pull them over my hips, then looked around for the zipper. Oh there it was. One half on one side of my big belly and the other half on the other side. This was not one of those "suck it in" jobs, nor one of those "buy it and fit into it in a month or so". It was simply TOO BLOODY SMALL and would take another year of frantic exercise to fit.

So I slinked out of the change room and felt like shit. Jenny’s all, "How did you go?" and I mutter, "terrible!" and the saleslady appears from nowhere, pencil thin and chirping, "How did you go?"

"No good!" I said quietly.

"Oh that’s a pity! What’s was wrong with them?"

"They didn’t fit!"

"Oh! Would you like to try our men’s jeans? Some ladies prefer those!"

"I have too much hip and gut and butt for men’s jeans."

"Oh are you sure? You’d be surprised!"

"Maybe next time!" I blurt and flee from the shop, shoving on my sunglasses just in time for me to start crying.

I dunno how you can make a tall leggy waif like my mate Jenny understand how that feels. I guess I was kidding myself that I could walk in and fit into something from a "normal" shop.

Once again it’s the feeling of having worked SO HARD for a whole year now, to have changed so much mentally, and feeling like the body should have caught up by now. But it hasn’t. So once again, I have to remind myself to be more patient, and to not give up. I’ll get into those bloody jeans eventually.

Rice Crackers

Be sure to read Fred’s entry about Weight Watchers and the reader responses in the following entry. It’s funny because it’s true. Actually it is sad because it’s true. Despite how WW inititally helped me, I’ve moved on now and I’ve actually been writing my Why I Don’t Go To WW Anymore diatribe and must share that sooner or later. In the meantime, instead of counting points they can start counting the $15.95 a week they won’t be getting from me once my package deal runs out. Woo 🙂

I also must mention Mrs Phat, the amazing Robyn, who recently completed her first Body For Life challenge and clearly kicked some ass in those twelve weeks. Good on ya, tiger! You are an inspiration.

So I just want to say it shits me no end about how Australia seems to have gone mad for rice crackers. Back in the day there was only one brand, but the big companies seem to have latched on to them now there is four billion brands of them. What used to be a nice low fat snack can now be quite porky. Have you seen those new rice cracker chip things? What are they called, Rix or something? They have flavours just like potato chips! Salt n vinegar, chicken, etc. You may have seen the commercial where the guy is eating some and his girlfriend says, "What are they?". He explains that they are 93% fat free! Her eyes glaze over and she bolts for the kitchen and returns with a big bowl of em. Now she can eat snacks without guilt!

You may as well go eat a bag of Doritos. These so called low fat rice cracker chips are 93% fat free, but that means they are 7% fat! That is not low fat!

Also Uncle Tobys have these new snack things out, kind of a big biscuit with dried fruit and stuff in it. They are marketing them as a healthy alternative to "normal" biscuits. And they’re 90% fat free! I find it appalling that they are allowed to advertise something as low fat when it is actually 10% fat. How many gullible folks are buying them thinking, "Woo! Low fat cookie!". Well, my roomie for one, but she is 5’11" and slim as a pencil so what does it matter to her.

Anyway, nutritionists say that something cannot be considered low fat unless it is 97% or more fat free. So watch those labels kiddies, don’t be fooled, mkay! Or just go eat some ordinary rice, eh?

Monday is my One Year Anniversay of this Bust My Lard Campaign™. Be sure to come back on Tuesday for a wrap up!

Beautiful Day

Well it’s been a long time between entries. Eep. Sorry folks. How are you all doing? I hope your holiday season went well. I am WOEFULLY BEHIND on email but I will get through it. I am so sorry. But firstly I have to say THANKYOU to all you wonderful people who’ve written, you are all so helpful and encouraging. I owe you bigtime!

My Chrissy was pretty bloody good. There was food galore on offer, but for the most part I ate very well and reasonably. I stayed away from the chocolates and chips and dips and just ate plenty of salad and fruit. I’ll admit I could not resist my grandmother’s caramel pie, but what the hell? It’s once a year. And it’s damn tasty.

The thing was though, I kept exercising. The gym was closed for a few days over Christmas but I made sure beforehand I did Pump on Chrissy Eve, and went for walks and went straight back when we got back home on the Friday, just in time for Combat class. Woo. At WW on New Year’s Eve, I weighed 114.7 kilos, a 0.2 kilo gain over Christmas (half a pound). I really was happy with that, and to be honest didn’t really give a shit because the scales are a crock.

As you can see I came nowhere near to my goal of 110 kilos by the end of the year. I’ve been hovering being 115 and 114 kilos for almost *two bloody months* now! Little losses, little gains. By about the third week of being distraught about this, I finally realised that fretting over the scales was getting me NOWHERE. Why? Because despite the scales not moving much, I have noticed BIG CHANGES in my shape.

In mid-December I had to go to my sister’s graduation and I needed an outfit. I got out this long skirt I bought the year before and couldn’t fit into, but now it was too big (size 24). So off to the shops we went.

I had the usual feeling of horror and nausea, as every shopping expedition seems to leave me in tears as I can’t find a single bloody thing to wear. But this time! Woo. My sister found me a nice skirt, about 3/4 length. I grumbled and bitched, saying my ankles were "too thick" for such a thing, but she made me try it on. And it looked great! I checked the label and nearly had a heart attack. It was a SIZE 20!

Woo to the hoo. That’s a US 18/16-ish. Kick ass. It’s been about 5 years since I could get into that. It was amazing to think I’d lost five years of fat. Plus my legs looked fine, they’re still big but there’s more shape to them now, instead of looking like tree trunks. You can even see the muscle in my calves. So I was estatic about that. I swear I could have cried in the change rooms, I couldn’t believe it fit me and looked good. It wasn’t an old lady skirt! I felt like a 24 year old chick instead of a sad ball of lard.

Next we had to find something to wear. We ended up at My Size. We were searching for a black top. I found a nice one with a flattering v-neck but was stressed to see they did not have the XL size. So I went and tried on the L. It was too bloody huge! It looked awful. But there was no M. So my sister told me to try on the Small. And it fit. Bloody hell. Heart attack number #2 for the day. It was fitted, but the sales chick said it was supposed to be like that. I was looking in the mirror and stressing, "It’s rather snug around the boobs, and look at my butt! Arrgh!". But my sister just rolled her eyes and said, "It FITS YOU. You’re just used to wearing tents. Clothes are meant to show off your bod, not hide it."

That was a strange concept to me. I know realise that you look a million times slimmer in well-fitting clothes than you do in baggy old crap. So I looked rather nice on the graduation day and felt so happy.

I was feeling so good about myself after that ocassion that I decided to take it a step futher. I went to the hairdressers and she said, "Just the usual? You’re still trying to grow it out?" and I said "No! I feel old and frumpy. I want to look young and sexy!" Plus I said I thought the longer length was making my face look fatter than it is. She agreed that we should make it shorter and I thought what the hell? It’s just hair. It’ll grow back!

So an hour or so later I emerged with a shorter, funky style and blonde highlights. It feels fabulous. I’ve never had so many people go "wow!" about a haircut, asking me who did it, saying how flattering it is looks. I feel so much more vibrant and happy, just from hacking off some hair.

At the post-Christmas sales I bought a lovely dark blue stretch skirt, a little below knee length. Also a size 20. It fit a little too snug around my belly and was going to put it back on the rack when once again my sister barked at me and said, "It looks good! Buy it!". So I did. It’s such a *young* looking skirt. I coulda weeped for joy. I still think my legs are too heavy for it, but it only shows my calves and although they’re not small, they’re a pretty nice shape now and I am just not going to give a shit. Besides, it was $22, down from $80! Who am I to resist such a bargain?

As corny as this sounds, the thing that has turned me around lately is finally just learning to like myself. And learning not to give a shit about what other people think. Did you know I went *swimming* with some online buddies a few weeks ago? I’d only just met them and it was stinky hot day and someone said, hey we should go to the river? I automatically started making excuses to bail, but then thought why are you holding yourself back? who cares about your thighs? So off I went! We all swam in shorts and t-shirts and noone gave a flying fuck about my big body.

I really feel like I’ve got a new lease of life, now that I’ve turned my thinking around. I am not letting my stupid excuses hold me back anymore. I feel like I have to make up for lost time, all those wasted years of doing nothing with me life. Sure I still weigh 115 kilos and I’m a size 20 but who gives a shit? I am not going to wait around to be smaller. I can have fun NOW.

I hate to be preachy but liking yourself is so important. I got an email from a brilliant reader after one of my depressed kind of entries in which I was bitching about having nothing to wear and people ignoring me because of my weight. She told me about a large friend of hers who always looks fabulous, because she puts in the effort to make herself look pretty, and she’s always smiling, etc. So I thought, hmmm this is interesting. And I put it to the test. I’ve started taking more pride in my appearance, lordy, I’m even painting my nails!

And she was right. THANKYOU! 🙂 I feel good when I put in the effort. There’s a spring in my step and I don’t feel ashamed of my body. And when I feel positive like that, I’ve discovered I’m more outgoing and friendly and people are just nicer.

Anyway. Damn, I am really crapping on today.

So I didn’t meet my goal of 110 kilos by the end of the year, but did meet my secret goal of wanting to get into a size 20 by the end of the year. Woo to the hoo.

Onward and downward for the next year! I will not let the scales get me down. I will be positive. I hope you all can be too. It’s much more fun than being mean to yourself 🙂