It’s Meat Week at Chez Dietgirl. The vegetarian Scottish Companion has been at a conference in Finland this week, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to partake in the pleasures of the flesh.
But it didn’t really turned out that way. Monday I had Quorn sausages (so low in fat and very tasty) and salad. Tuesday night I had a bowl of salad with some feta, and then a pile of potato wedges with chili sauce (oops). Meantime, SC calls last night to say he ate REINDEER at the conference dinner! Such a dedicated vegie.
I ended up making some Chili Con Carne, except with chicken instead of carne. What’s Spanish for chicken? Pollo? Or is that Italian? All I know is that it made me do some really lethal farts during the Squat track at Body Pump last night. Luckily I’d had the foresight to set up my weights in a remote corner of the room.
. . .
I’m becoming a cranky old bastard in my old age. Every time I check my List Of Stuff To Blog About, it always seems to be full of trivial rage. Even when I’m not hormonal. I know there’s a lot of horrible shite going on in the world, but it is easier to rant about the little things because you know they don’t really matter, therefore you don’t get all depressed like you do with huge, global problems that seem unresolvable.
ANYWAY. Here are the Rages du Jour.
Fashion. What the bloody hell is up with all this boho shite? I thought it would die after summer, but all the autumn clothes are full of jingle-jangle flouncy beaded faux-ethnic shite. I just wanted a FEW new things to take to Australia that actually fitted me, but where are the simple, clean lines? So I looked on the websites of a few Aussie stores and looks like the bohemian bastards have invaded the Antipodes too. What is the point of losing heaps of weight finally being able to shop in normal stores if all the clothes are going to be rubbish?
Smug losers. It really gets on my goat when you get someone who’s lost a hefty stack of weight, then suddenly adopts this tone of haughty all-knowingness. Suddenly they’re saying to all the remaining fatties of the world, "You people don’t get it man! You just eat too much and don’t exercise! It’s all so simple! Get some self control! Do what I did, it’s easy!". They’re perched on their high horses, gazing out the window and clucking their tongues at all the lardy unenlightened ones waddling down the street, ignoring the fact they were in the same position not long ago. It’s smugger and more irritating than a reformed smoker or a recently reborn Christian.
And quite often it happens when they’ve still got weight to lose. I may have lost 160-odd pounds but I will never, ever take that tone with anyone. I get emails from people of all shapes and sizes, some heavier than when I started, and I always listen to their words and be empathic. And never, ever forget what it felt like back then. Never, ever forget how hard it can be to make changes. Thanks to hard work This Time has been The Time when I finally have been successful in making lasting changes, and while I share my experiences with people, I am not about to start sprouting the Gospel of Skinny like I’m some evangelist with all the answers. Plus until I have got to a healthy weight, and maintained it for a considered amount of time, I hardly feel qualified to do that anyway.
So I am back in the swing of things after being unwell. I’d not done any cardio for almost two weeks and just a couple Pump classes, so it’s good to be back into my regular routine. I had a moment in my Body Pump class last Sunday morning, as I was doing tricep extensions. I was just watching my arms bend back, my form was good and I felt strong. I could feel the burn starting in the muscles and it just felt so damn good and peaceful somehow. I’d wanted to skip the class and stay on my arse watching the cricket, but I was so glad I’d come out. It’s such a high to feel your body doing what it’s meant to doing… moving! Stretching! Being challenged. Kick ass.