Now We’re Getting Somewhere

I have long been an advocate for not paying any attention at all to the scale. But every now and then there's a little milestone on that cursed machine that you just have to stop and celebrate.

I'm just back from my weigh-in – 112.54 kilos. That's 247.59lb! What does that mean?

  1. I am finally finally FINALLY under 250 lb.
  2. I have finally finally FINALLY cracked the 100 lbs lost mark! 102.65 gone!

I had a fantastic week. The week before was a shocker. A close family member passed away, and I turned my grief into fat. Cheesecake, chinese food, you name it. But I kept exercising. I did post a gain, but this week I got right back on track. I remembered this time last year, the very same week, when family problems saw me go completely off the rails for months and months. Not going to happen this time.

100 pounds! Woohoo! I can't believe it! 🙂

But more important than the scale is the tape measure. I got re-measured last week – this happens every four weeks. I was all pissed off about the gain on the scale, but then discovered I'd shrunk:

Chest – 4.5 cm gone
Hips – 4 cm gone
Waist – 10 cm gone

10cm in four weeks! How many inches? Umm. I think an inch is 2.5 cm? So that's four inches off.

Holy crap. I got the chick to re-measure just in case. I knew something funny was going on coz I've had to yoink my pants up all the time. I thought they'd got stretched in the wash. Ha! I wish my stomach would shrink that dramatically!

Anyway. I really cutting out the processed crap has helped big time. I know exactly what I'm eating and where it comes from. Just the wholesomeness of the food seems to be making a difference.

Then of course there is That Bloody Mountain. I have been managing to haul myself up there once a week. God I hate it! The first 20 minutes are purest hell. Hell on an severe incline, that is. My thighs go twing! and I huff and puff and swear and tell my sister There is no fucking way I am going to fucking climb this fucking hill any fucking further and she just laughs.

Once we get to the top, I limp around yelling, "KING OF THE WORLD!" until jelly legs force me to sit down. Then it's another 40 minutes to walk back down. And by the time we get back to the car, I'm thinking, "Hey that wasn't so bad. Piece of cake!"

Until of course the next day when I wake up and every muscle is screaming. On Sunday I only made it halfway up, I'd really hammered myself at Body Combat on Thursday, plus I hadn't drank enough water during the day. I've found I just drag my ass if I don't keep hydrated beforehand (we don't do the walk til about 5pm).

I really think it's the stinkiest bitch of a thing I've ever done, exercise wise. So that's why I'll keep on doing it.

Btw, thanks for the lovely guestbook and e-mail people who've piped up lately. Diary-X doesn't have comments so the good old GB will have to suffice, until (if) I get the energy to go back to Movable Type 🙂

Do You Realize?

There comes a day when you just look in the mirror and realise that no matter how many times you haul your ass to the gym, no matter how many mountains you climb, no matter how many bars of chocolate you decline to eat; you are never, ever going to want someone to see you naked.

Turkey Is A Dish Best Served Cold

So I am doing pretty well, folks! Week 8 of my New Regime and I am still losing steadily. Rock on!

I’ve found the best tactic right now is to simply go cold turkey on the junk. Before with Weight Watchers, I was always thinking about food. I was so busy counting points and wondering if I could squeeze in something sweet. Or how many points in a McDonalds sundae? Hmm hmm.

But for now, I am really being quite vigilant and just sticking to my three meals a day and no fancy shit. I just have such a problem with self-control. I know one small piece of chocolate is not enough for me. I can’t trust myself to eat one bit then stop.

Does anyone else have this problem?

Anyway it’s working well so far. I am feeling good. And my clothes are fitting again. Some are getting to be too big. AH YES, I love being a loser again.

It’s only a month til my 25th birthday. Anyone remember how 18 months ago I vowed to be a size 14 by now and kiss everyone and dance on tables at my party?

Well I am size 20 and I won’t be kissing anyone. I guess my expectations were too high. Or I didn’t expect to waste the first half of 2002 gaining weight back.

I get very upset sometimes, angry at myself for going off track, for letting life get in the way of my weight loss shennanigans. But what can you do? Just gotta keep going.

So kissing and parties for my 26th then.