Chivalry Isn't Dead, It's Just Sleeping!

Non-scale victories were mentioned at this week’s meeting (My first weigh in and I lost 4.5lbs...Yay me!).  When the scales aren’t showing you what you’d hoped for, look for the other little victories that have come as a result of your weight loss...for instance your clothes being too loose, or your bum not hanging over the edges of chairs anymore.  I liked this idea, because after just one week, and even though the scales were being kind (this time), I had a non-scale victory.  For the first time since I was in my early twenties, a man in the pub offered to buy me a drink.

This might not seem like much, but for me it was.  Now I should stress that I haven’t been beaten by the ugly stick or anything like that, but nowadays guys just don’t offer to buy drinks.  Gender equality, for all the marvelous good it has done, has unfortunately also killed chivalry.  Now I’m no princess, and whilst I’d never say that I expected a man to hold the door for me, or give up his seat for me in a crowded waiting room; The traditionalist inside me silently judges those men who don’t at least offer.

As a divorced woman in her early thirties, I am of course always keeping my eyes open for my next victim...*coughs* I mean, my next Mr Right, and without basic manners, and at list a hint of charm, I’m genuinely not interested. I’d rather buy a cat (or six).  I assume guys look at a girl like me and think: when there are so many girls willing to give up everything for free, why would I buy her a drink when I can’t guarantee it’ll get me anywhere?  They only tend to risk making that investment on girls who really stand out as knowing their own worth, because those women appear intriguing and challenging in the best of ways.  I unfortunately, don’t think I’m usually that woman!  Don’t get me wrong, I can see why guys are like this now.  It could get very expensive if they had to buy a drink for every girl they wanted to chat up, but I do think it’s a shame, because usually the ones who appreciate that chivalrous act are the ones who would be worth the investment.

You've got this buddy!

The drink for me was a non-scale victory.  In that moment as I chatted to him at the bar, I must have exuded confidence in my appearance and myself generally, due to the fact I was high on the success of my first week of the plan.  Even more though, I was flattered that he’d made the gesture...that he’d seen something I hadn’t up to this point.  It’s important to remember though, that in the spirit of equality, it’s not just down to the guys to make these gestures, and in a female dominated environment such as a weight loss club, the gestures we make towards the men in group are just as important.  I witnessed a genuinely touching act of support between two members at the meeting this week, which actually led to the discussion of non-scale victories. Perhaps it was just me, but I couldn’t help but feel that choosing to come to a group, and regularly surrounding yourselves with strangers willing to make those supportive gestures (let's face it, when you need them the most!), is in fact the biggest non-scale victory we can claim.  Because after all...it was our decision to suck it up and walk through the doors in the first place...so that little victory belongs to each and every one of us.

Nighty-Night.

Angels & Demons

This is my first week on the plan, and I'm not going to lie, I didn't expect my willpower to be tested this early on! For the last two days I've been working away from my usual workplace and instead I've been delivering a course just a few miles down the road.
My usual workplace in Milton Keynes has a lovely large restaurant with a giant salad bar, and jacket potatoes ready and waiting at lunch time. The course I've been delivering over the last two days however, has been at our UK distribution centre and they always cater for my delegates and I, by providing a buffet. Being prepared, naturally I'd already made myself a nice chicken salad, but as the food was brought in, the smell of soft doughy bread, hot Cajun wedges and meat kebabs had my mouth watering. Did I really want to break into my salad when that was on offer? As I looked at the salad that I'd lovingly prepared I found my internal monologue cursing it.



I don't know what it is with a buffet that makes it so tempting. In reality it's just finger food, but there's something about the sheer variety that you find on a buffet which makes is so appealing. It made me wonder though, here I was at war with myself internally over whether I could risk picking up a cheese and pickle sandwich, when my own Syn free salad was sat right in front of me! After a lot of strong words to the little devil version of me sat on my shoulder, I opted for the salad (phew!)...but what if I'd been going to a party where I didn't have a substitute to hand? Even if I had made the effort to eat before a party, could I honestly say I wouldn't have been tempted to grab a sandwich or a samosa? I haven't yet been able to answer my that question.
 
One thing I do know however, is that if we ignore all the gorgeous smells that wafted off that buffet...my salad actually looked a darned sight better!  The variety of colour from green mixed leaves, yellow sweetcorn, red tomatoes, pink radishes and orange peppers made the buffet look positively beige. The only greenery

Colour me happy!

present on the buffet were a few chunks of cucumber hidden inside a tuna mayo sandwich! I think ultimately that's what stopped me taking anything. I'm quite a visual creature and mine just looked better!  The more I looked at the browny-beige offering, the less inspired I was by it. In particular I noticed that the meat (of unknown origin) kebab that I had initially been so drawn to, very much resembled a skewered squirrel!
 
At the moment these little self discoveries about my eating habits and perceptions are empowering me to stay focused and really immerse myself in the plan. Revisiting my earlier question, I think I'd be naive to believe that being aware of my habits are enough to make feel I've changed them - especially at this early stage. There's a strong possibility that the little devil on my shoulder would convince me that it's okay to cheat because it's a "special occasion". However in the long run I suppose being self aware enough to admit it, might mean that in those moments, the little angel version of me on the other shoulder, may be able to shout loud enough to be heard!

Nighty-Night!

*Sigh* When You're Winning

In an effort to be fully prepared this week, and therefore in control, I decided to batch cook a load of meals for the week, including a rather lovely Slimming World Chili.  I cannot tell you how much I was looking forward to eating it when I got home today.  I usually drive to Milton Keynes every day for work (a rather delightful hour and twenty minute commute), however thankfully today I was working just seven miles down the road, meaning as I left work I’d already been salivating over the idea of chili for a good hour.  I think it’s because I knew it was so close!

When I decided to start Slimming World, one of the things that pushed me towards the plan was the idea that I could eat lots.  Other plans restrict your diet, however this one seemed to be saying; “Want to stuff your face? Okay, well here are a load of foods that you can stuff your face with!”  That’s pretty much what I told myself anyway...until I read an article this week.

The article was featured on bootiquefitness.com and was called “The Sigh – Language Of The Stomach”, and it talked about the fact that so often nowadays, people overeat because they miss the signals their body is sending them telling them that they’re no longer hungry.  It talked about a natural “physical sigh” (which takes place as you eat), which is your body’s way of telling you that food has replaced the air in your empty stomach, and you have now eaten enough.  For some people the sigh is more a sharp or deep intake of breath, for others it’s a burp (delightful)...but, it’s at this stage, that we should stop eating, pause and really question whether we’re still feeling hunger pangs.  If we aren’t, then we should finish eating.

My chili was completely Syn free, and combined with a medium sized jacket potato, could have been eaten in a vast quantity...I mean it’s delicious after all!  But somewhere in the back of my head, the various articles I’ve read online recently, and TV programmes focusing on diet and losing weight had embedded the idea of portion control in my subconscious.  So I didn’t make myself a massive portion.  I spooned two standard wooden spoon servings onto the jacket potato, and left it at that.  On my plate it looked pitiful.  The jacket potato was the size of one of my standard roast potatoes, and having drooled over the idea of the chili for hours, I was certain that I would be going back for seconds once I’d demolished this meagre offering.  With the article about The Sigh at the forefront of my mind though, I found that when it happened (and it really does!), I had only eaten the chili, and half of my tiny potato.




Naturally I questioned my body’s decision that it was indeed satisfied.  I mean I can understand it trying to drop a few not-so-subtle hints after I’ve chomped my way through ¾ of a Large Dominoes Ham & Pineapple Stuffed Crust, but after half a tiny potato?  Ridiculous!  I even started arguing with myself – clearly because I’m thinking about it, it’s a self fulfilling prophecy? Was that even The Sigh? Because it really just felt like a deep breath...probably because I’ve been eating too quickly.  In the time that I spent arguing with the various voices in my head, it suddenly occurred to me that I actually didn’t feel hungry any more.  I didn’t feel full, stuffed or bloated...But the niggling hunger pangs I’d been having since 4pm had gone, and I was in fact satisfied.

So I stopped eating.

It’s now five hours later, and I still don’t feel hungry.  I wondered if the Chinese food principle might apply; You know - where you eat a Chinese, feel as though you couldn’t eat another morsel again (ever!)...and then twenty minutes later you’re ravenous and have had to seek comfort in the bag of prawn crackers that you got as a freebie.  Turns out no, it doesn’t apply.  I feel fine.  My leftover’s went to the dog, who was very appreciative, and I haven’t needed to snack or anything this evening.

When you actually look through the Slimming World literature, it emphasizes that anything with a Syn value, or your A and B choices need to be weighed and measured, but everything free is available to us in unlimited quantities.  It has taken me until now to realise, that just because I can have as much as I want, doesn’t mean I should.  Part of changing my eating habits for the better has to include exercising restraint when it comes to portion control and to listen to what my body is telling me more often.  I’m going to try not to build my plate up with food just because I can, but if I do, and I achieve my Sigh-moment before I finish, I’m going to do my best to take the hint my body is giving me.  I’m not worried about wasting food, after all, if my body doesn’t need or want it, it’s a waste whether I throw it in the bin or down my neck!  Some days I’m sure it will take longer for me to reach The Sigh but the key is that I pay attention, and don’t ignore it when it happens.

Have a go tomorrow – listen for your own sigh/deep breath/burp.

Nighty-night!

The Cross Trainer Hates Me

As a rule I despise exercise.  The idea of dragging my chubby carcass to the gym in front of a room of spandex clad eighteen year old's, and getting that look of “oh look, here comes one of the January gym goer” fills me with resentment.  I mean, we didn’t complain when they visited our pubs in December!  However I know that in order for me to get the best results from Slimming World, I need to work towards one of my Body Magic awards.

Today’s gym session wasn’t actually too bad.  The gym wasn’t nearly as busy as I thought it would be, and with it being the local leisure complex gym, the gym bunny to normal person ratio was actually in my favour for once.  It’s been quite a while since I last went to the gym, and my first hurdle was actually getting through the barcode scanning turnstile that they have in the entrance.  These things never bloody work for me...I spent thirty seconds waving my membership card in front of it, only for nothing to happen.  By this point a queue of people also trying to get in had formed behind me.  Accepting defeat I attempted to turn, and head to the main reception to complain that my card wasn’t working.  There I was, one lone chubby girl trying to push back through a substantial queue, (I can only imagine that this is pretty much how salmon feel most days) when the damned thing finally decided to play ball, and I heard the clunk of admittance, and saw the big red LED arrow signalling I could enter.  This turnstile was a dick though, and timed out just as I’d made my way back and attempted to push through it.  This resulted in another thirty seconds of embarrassing card waving, and a painfully awkward wait for it to finally let me in.  I noticed that the next person in the queue had no such issues getting in, which I’m pretty sure means the turnstile has it in for me and me alone.

Once I was in though, and my wounded pride had got over itself, I headed straight for the cross trainer.  I’ve had a operations on both knees, so the lower impact nature of the cross trainer is great for me to clock up a good thirty minutes of continuous cardio.  In the past I’ve always chosen a manual programme on all of the machines, but inspired to burn some serious calories, I opted for the “Fat Burner” interval programme.  It’s at this point that I discovered...the cross trainer is also a dick.  The interval programme moves through levels of intensity when it comes to resistance, and for the first ten to fifteen minutes, the intensity gradually increased, then slowly decreased.  The last fifteen minutes however followed no such pattern.  In fact, in an effort to completely throw me, it jumped from a low resistance to the highest, this dick move #1 by the cross trainer effectively made me look like a tomato red Duracell bunny once my batteries had finally run down.  I mean I’d got a good stride going, and great pace, and the BAM! High resistance hell...It was like trying to wade through half-set cement!  I wasn’t going to be deterred though.  I pushed on...I’m a freaking athlete! Grrrr...My pace increased, I found my flow and before I knew it I’d found my rhythm again.  Cue cross trainer dick move #2...I’m steaming along at the higher resistance, when WHOOSH!  It drops to the minimum resistance.  Now have you ever started jogging down a slight incline, only for it to steepen suddenly?  Gravity takes hold and before you know it your legs are out of control in an effort to keep you on for feet, rather than face-plant and essentially roll down the rest of the hill...well that was me going from highest to lowest resistance on that blasted cross trainer.

Needless to say, whilst I managed to get a good forty-five minutes of cardio in overall, the cross trainer and turnstile are both in my bad books at the moment.  I can’t avoid the turnstile (pity), but I may have to avoid the cross trainer until I’ve cooled off.  My next adventure is going to involve the bike, and knowing my luck I’ll end up Bridget Jones-ing it off the bike with jelly legs.  

Either way I’m determined to find the exercise that’s right for me. So like food, I’m not going to dismiss anything until I’ve tried it.  That Body Magic award will be mine.  For now though, I’m going to bed to rest my aching muscles. Nighty-Night!

Make a Plan and Stick To It!

Ah January!  The month of remorse!  This month we shall mostly be feeling guilty about all the money spent in December, which we didn’t really have.  We'll be kicking ourselves for not buying a present per month from the previous March, (which would actually allowed us to have afforded Christmas).  This month we'll look back to December and think, if I really am what I eat, then at the moment I’m a family sized tub of Quality Street and three litres of Baileys. Well I will at least.  I exaggerate actually, because I didn’t hugely over indulge this year...in fact I rarely do at Christmas.  The fact is, I’ve been severely overweight since my early twenties, and Christmas has nothing to do with it.  In the past I have been a member of various slimming groups...from calorie counting to points counting, even groups offering cognitive behavioral therapy whilst I starve myself on high protein shakes all week...I’ve rarely had much success and if I have it’s been short lived.  This year though I’m making it my year.

By day I’m a trainer for a large automotive manufacturer, and spend most of the day on my feet in front of anywhere between 8 and 30 delegates.  I am no shrinking violet.  However crunch time for me came when I was told that in April I’ll be sent off to Portugal to train network staff on a new car model that’s being launched.  This sounds lovely right?  Oooh Portugal in April...Well it is, in fact it’s heaps of fun too, however having done a similar event in Sardinia last year, I also know that there’s nothing fun about seventeen hour days, working your socks off in 34˚c heat, and walking around 8 miles a day when you’re five stone overweight!  Memories of catching myself in the mirror at our mid-morning coffee break and finding that in my sweaty exhausted state, my make-up had slipped half way down my face, and I resembled a (slightly more) feminine version of “Sloth” from The Goonies all came rushing back with a vengeance.  I’ve been dreading this event coming round ever since.  Now I don’t expect the weather in Portugal to be quite as intense in April, however my poor feet also took a battering last year, and I just knew that the sensible thing to do would be to join my local Slimming World group, and have a good bash at trying to lose at least a stone before April.  My housemate and I decided that Slimming World looked like the most sensible eating plan out there, and having bought the magazine a few times, we knew that people were experiencing some genuine losses of anywhere from three to seven stone, so it seemed sensible for us (knowing that we were carrying considerably more than a fresher’s fourteen or 10lbs of post-baby weight!).

Meetings are somewhat of a nightmare for me.  I have a short attention span and also get frustrated by the fact that most meetings don’t have much thought put into them.  It seems many group leaders are taught to follow the format of a “creeping death” approach, around the room to each slimmer...one by one (even if there are thirty of us sitting there) congratulating them on their weight loss or reassuring them if they’ve maintained or gained.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic to really go in for publicly congratulating milestone losses, and it’s inspiring for everyone to know how they’ve gone about doing it...but everyone’s losses and gains?...shouldn’t that really be done at the weigh in table?  I can’t be the only one who finds two hours of listening to shy members begrudgingly regale stories of what they decided to (not) eat this week, punctuated with sporadic clapping more than a little pointless...I know I’m not the only one because invariably half the group decides not to stay to meetings, despite the research showing they’d be more successful in their weight loss journey if they did. 

Having spoken to numerous friends, all we have ever really wanted from a group support environment is for current/new topics to be covered and discussed, taste-tests of new recipes or practical how to cook XYZ demos to be run.  We want other members getting up and telling us all about the new type of Zumba that’s been working wonders for their waistline, or how it felt when they finally got to target.  Something that we can say “hurrah, finally something that I can try this week” to keep me motivated and inspired.  We want to talk about how new government guidelines around alcohol impact us staying on track.  We want to discuss the January diet TV programmes and whether there are any obvious links between the experts advice and the plan we’re following, to cement and reinforce our decision to do the plan!  Knowing that Sharon lost half a pound this week because she drank more water isn’t going to help me, and I doubt sharing that information with the rest of us helps Sharon much!  Having said that though, I have only just joined my group, so I can’t make any judgement around that yet.  Plus, I’ve made a commitment to myself to stay to the meetings for at least one month, to try and get the best possible experience and therefore results.  Don’t let me down group – I’m counting on you!  If in three weeks time you see some chubby blonde sat in the corner rocking and mumbling to herself, it will be me, and it will be because I’ve had three weeks of listening to the same conversations take place, like some kind of diet Groundhog Day hell.

I’ve spent most of this weekend getting my head around the plan, and filling my fridge with tonnes of free foods.  I’ve made a promise to myself to make my lunch for the next day each evening, so that I can avoid the calorific lunch options in the restaurant at work.  I’ve also charged my Fitbit and have my gym kit in the car for a post work workout.  I’m raring to go fellow slimmers!  Hopefully this plan will be the one to change everything for me.  I’m all signed up to the SW Facebook page, I’ve downloaded the app to my iPhone and iPad (just in case, so I’ve always got it to hand) and I’ve already batch cooked a SW chilli con carne:

I've taken all my measurements, and I have the whole week planned - and nothing to get in the way of me having a great week but myself.  Here's to a positive start to 2016, and being really low on the pounds (lbs rather than ££'s) come next December!