Days 624 to 646 – Seeking Inspiration 28 October 2009

OK, here comes another distance running cliche for you.  It’s a lonely old business, isn’t it?  Just you, your thoughts and the plod-plod-plod-plod of your feet hitting the ground.

Clearly there’s good and bad in that.  It’s a great opportunity to lose yourself for a while (as a friend eloquently puts it: ‘when I run I disappear’), empty your head and pound away the stresses of the day.  Brilliant.  I prefer not to run in total silence (mainly because I find the sound of my own breathing very distracting!) and am glued to my trusty iPod, but even with background music I still manage to drift away to other places.

The bad side of it is the fact that you are the only person that can motivate yourself.  You get yourself out of bed (you’re not letting a team down if you don’t show up), you choose your route, you damn well get on with it.  And, as distances increase, you’re often getting on with it while friends and family and loved ones are doing exciting things that you’d otherwise be a part of too.  It’s a bit alienating, not to mention socially disruptive.  I have considered finding a running partner to ensure that I stick to my routine, but the absolute truth is that I don’t think I could bear to have to make breathless chit-chat for mile after mile.

So, given that I’m stuck between loving the solitude and yet needing external encouragement, I’m taking some steps to motivate myself over the next six months (oh my god that makes it sound so close!).  Firstly, I’m off to New York to watch the marathon this Sunday.  I think there will be nothing more inspiring than installing myself in Central Park to watch those brilliant people racing towards the finish line.  Then, back in London and reality, I’m going to seek out some running events to complement my training schedule.  There’s a tendency to think ‘oh, I’m doing the Big One in April, so there’s no need’, but the sense of solidarity and enthusiasm that comes from other runners is damn motivating.  It’s a bit like when you’re running along an empty road and suddenly another runner passes you … it really lifts your spirits and makes you feel part of ‘the club’.

Weight-wise, I’m edging in the wrong direction again.  I did anticipate this, as I’ve had an October full of wining, dining and important social events.  This means that I’m going to behave myself in November, otherwise it’s just a lardy, boozy slide into Christmas, which would be disastrous.  I’m seriously contemplating steering clear of the demon drink for a month … well, I’m going to have to cut it out next year anyway, so I should probably get some practice in!

All that remains is to wish the best of British luck to anyone running in New York on Sunday.  I’ll be there to cheer you on, you crazy fools!

Days 618 to 623 – Fighting My Demons 5 October 2009

On Sunday I asked the Boy to drop me off six and a half miles from home and leave me there to run back (actually, I wanted it to be seven and a half but, despite calculations on mapmyrun.com, I came up short).  It was quite tough going, and left alone with my thoughts for that hour or so I came to an important realisation.  This marathon for me is not about the physical challenge of going that distance, it’s about the competition between me and myself.

‘No shit, sherlock’, I hear some of you mutter, as you roll your eyes and wish you’d opted to do something else with your spare five minutes.  However, I was having that thought in the context of lighter life and everything that I’ve learned over the past eighteen months or so.  Let me explain.  I began lighter life with a very broken mind (you may recall that my response to my counseller’s reference to ‘overeaters’ was ‘I’m not an overeater’, which was clearly nonsense) and one of the keys to unlocking my weight problems was acknowledging my disordered relationship with food.  Part of that was coming to the understanding that I’m in control of my life, in control of what I eat and, if you like, the person with whom the buck stops.

The slightly cruel flip side of that is the realisation that I have consistently and deliberately sabotaged myself for years.  I know that because, at the drop of a hat, I can slip back into my bad habits.  I can happily be a willing spectator while I go into self-destruct mode … and for the life of me I don’t know why.  What I do know is that it doesn’t have to be this way.  I have knowledge and tools at my disposal to enable me to live the life that I want and to be the person that I would like to be.

Running is one of those things.  I was lucky, in a way, to find that physically I can do it and mentally I enjoy it.  I’m at a point now where I can run a reasonable distance without too much strain or effort, and I’m increasing that distance gradually over time.  But here’s the worrying thing.  Slowly and insidiously I’m starting to sabotage myself again.  I was less than three miles into the run on Sunday and at the bottom of a hill.  I knew the hill was coming (because an old school friend lives at the top!) and also knew that it was going to be the only real challenge of the whole run.  About a third of the way up I stopped, almost in tears, telling myself that I couldn’t do it … ’it’ being that actual run and the whole bloody marathon to boot!  I wasn’t in pain, or out of breath, and nor had I really slowed down as the incline went up, but I was telling myself that I couldn’t do it.  With a supreme effort of will I pushed on, only to stop again a few hundred yards later.  At that point I was angry with myself (‘why did you ever tell yourself you could do this, you idiot?’ was going round and round inside my head) and I seriously considered phoning home to be picked up.  Luckily I realised what I was doing.  I was convincing myself of my imminent failure, with no justification for doing so.  That is self-sabotage, pure and simple.

It’s the same mentality that allowed me to become as overweight as I did.  I mean, if you’re fat anyway, why should you even bother to try?  Just reach for another cake!  I find it alarming that I still think this way … hence the dawning realisation that I won’t be battling the miles but battling myself.  At that point I literally shouted at myself (if you ever hear a runner grunting ‘come on!’ at herself somewhere in South London then it’s probably me) and kept going.  I ran all the way home, too … despite the fact that at four miles a wasp managed to fly under the tongue of my left shoe and sting me, the little git (though I give him kudos for his accuracy).

How pleased am I to have managed six and a half miles?  Very.  How furious with myself would I have been if I’d given up on that hill?  Extremely.  My willingness to believe that I can achieve something is inherently tied to my self-esteem, and I’m sure as hell not going to allow myself to erode it, bit by bit, until I’m right back where I was at the beginning of 2008.

Interval training is on the schedule tomorrow.  I hate it, I really do, which is all the more reason for me to attack it with gusto!  I just need to keep reminding myself who the real enemy is here

So … the London Marathon ballot results are out.  I really hope that those of you who want to run will be able to.  I was politely rejected by the organisers, but have my charity place secured.  They did send me a rather fetching jacket by way of compensation, mind you!  Good luck to those of you who got through, and commiserations to those of you who didn’t.

Days 606 to 617 – The Best Laid Plans 29 September 2009

Back from Cornwall, back at my desk, and back to normality (with something of a bump).  We had an amazing holiday, with wonderful weather and all the fresh air a townie like me could possibly hope for.  I was so inspired by how fantastic it all was that I even went swimming in the sea (without a wetsuit!) and boy, did that blow the cobwebs away.

However, as predicted in my previous post, we ate, and drank, and ate, and drank, then ate and drank some more.  I realised pretty early on that any hope of sticking to a low-fat, low-carb regime was going to be in vain.  Even if I had managed to avoid the cream teas, cornish pasties and heaven knows what else, the cider and red wine would’ve put paid to my efforts.  Once again I was reminded of how straightforward life is when you’re on lighter life … total abstinence removes the need to make decisions about food.  You simply don’t eat it.  Clearly that comes with its own challenges, but there are no grey areas.

What I did do was stick religiously to my training.  I ran 2 very bramble-y and nettle-y miles from our cottage to the beach and back again on Saturday (which included an unintentional detour into a scarily boggy estuary … I don’t recommend running on quicksand, ladies and gents).  It was the first morning of the holiday, and I knew that I really had to get out there before the devil on my shoulder started muttering about not bothering.  It was definitely worth it.  Knowing I needed to do a long run on Sunday I plotted a big loop from our cottage (in Crantock) that looked like it would be a decent length.  It turned out to be just shy of 6 miles (via Cubert, for those of you who know the area) and was fabulous … despite the horrendous hills!  It really brought home to me just how flat London is (well, South London certainly) and, even though my poor old knees probably don’t agree, it was good for me to do it.  There was a long, steep hill on the last 2 mile stretch and I was sorely tempted to slow to a walk, but then encountered a family walking their dogs and made it to the top of the hill on pride alone.  Besides, a pink-faced, sweaty runner in the full kit complete with a high-visibility jacket is just about acceptable … but if you’re walking?!  I think not.

I did half of the same run on Tuesday, and repeated the whole thing on Thursday.  I reckon I achieved 16 miles in total while I was there and, given the amount of red wine swilling around my system, that was no mean feat.  Conveniently my friends had their 18 month old son with them, so I had an early morning alarm call to help get me out of bed while pretty much everyone else slept in.

On Sunday I managed to squeeze in a 4.5 mile effort from Crystal Palace to Clapham via Brockwell Park (always a pleasure) which went some of the way towards compensating for the delicious lunch that our friends cooked for us afterwards.  One of them has run the London marathon twice already, is hoping to secure a place for the third time, and has quite an infectious passion for running.  I need to spend time with more people like her over the coming months … my friends are already muttering darkly about a change in the weather and I know it’s going to get harder to go out as the nights draw in.

Tonight I’m running home.  I’ve not done that since I injured my back running home in May.  Even though I’ve completed much longer distances than that since then, I need to shake the superstition that I’ll hurt myself again on this route.  Stupid, I know, but here’s hoping that nothing goes ‘ping’ this time!

Days 592 to 605 – Eat Clean, Run Hard 17 September 2009

That’s going to be my motto for the next week.  I’m off to Cornwall with some friends for a week of relaxation by the sea.  I’ve been counting the days until this holiday for about three months, no lie!

The people I’m going with are some of my oldest friends and it’s fair to say that we’re known for partying quite hard (even though none of us are spring chickens any more).  This week could be an opportunity to sit on my arse, drink more red wine than most people consume in a month and feed myself with comfort food.  You know how it is … half an hour walking by the sea and suddenly you convince yourself that you have the appetite of ten men and start ordering extra portions of chips.  That would be disastrous.

I also have zero excuse for not keeping up the miles (I’m up to a comfortable 6 miles at the moment).  If I can run around London, breathing delicious lungfuls of exhaust fumes and other people’s fag smoke, then I can sure as hell run in the beautiful surroundings of the Cornish coast.  In fact, it will be a pleasure.  The only drawback will be dragging myself out of bed while everyone around me sleeps off the effects of the previous night’s dinner and beer.

Training in general is still going really well.  I’m well and truly in the swing of it, despite the minor setback of a bug over the last week (thankfully not the dreaded swine flu) that kept me separated from my trainers for a few days.  I’m intending to go out tonight for a decent 4 miles to get me back on track.

So keep them crossed that I don’t succumb to temptation and turn into a couch potato.  I hope to come back with tales of beautiful clifftop runs and healthy living!

Days 570 to 591 – Marathon, one, Lighter Life, nil 3 September 2009

All change for me again … or perhaps I should say that my journey has simply taken another turn.  I found out the hard way (dizzy spells, exhaustion, lack of motivation) that my current exercise regime and lighter life don’t mix.  Now before anyone gets up in arms, I would like to stress that this is personal to me and not necessarily true for all of you (or any of you, for that matter).  When I did the diet the first time around, I managed lots of walking and a bit of swimming, nothing more.  I’m currently running four times a week, personal training for an hour, and invariably going to the gym for an additional cross training or cycling session.  That’s quite a lot of exercise on 500 calories a day.

So, I faced a tough decision.  Remain on lighter life and cut back on the exercise or go back to normal eating and keep with the new regime.  With an eye on my long term goals, and the marathon in particular, I chose the latter.  I’ve set myself the new target of being roughly 1.5 stone lighter by January based on healthy eating and exercise.  Will I achieve that?  Only time (and willpower) will tell.  It was a shame because my new lighter life group seemed really nice, after a bit of a rocky start with only two of us, and I’m sure we would have made a lot of progress together.  Good luck to them!

The running is going really well. I’m almost up to the distances that I was achieving before I screwed up my back earlier in the year.  I ran 4 miles last Sunday and am scheduled to do 6 on the next.  I’m optimistic about that.  My back seems to be holding out, due to better stretching and a very focused plan with my personal trainer.  Concentrating on my abs, my core and my overall stability has really helped.  I feel like I’m running with my whole body once again, which is brilliant.  Now all I have to do is keep dragging myself out there and keep increasing the mileage.

As for the healthy eating … well let’s just say that the bank holiday weekend did me few favours, but I’ve been compensating since.  Once I get into the habit of porridge or healthy cereal for breakfast, a light lunch, healthy snacks at intervals and low-carb evenings then I’m fine.  I get on a roll.  I’ve not dared to go near the scales since going back to food, but will brave them soon.  I’m too old to be afraid of some bathroom scales!

Days 535 to 569 – What’s 26 miles, anyway? 12 August 2009

I’VE GOT A MARATHON PLACE!  The lovely people at Barnardo’s have kindly given me a place on the proviso that I raise at least £1600 on their behalf.  Oh, that will be a breeze … *gulp*.

When I got the news I was literally bouncing up and down with joy.  Running that race, in whatever time I achieve, will represent the final milestone (no pun intended) in the journey from ‘old me’ to ‘new me’.  To go from an obese couch potato to a marathon runner in two years is such an incredible thing that I find it quite staggering.  I know that I’ll need to hold on to that thought when I’m splashing through muddy puddles on Clapham Common in freezing rain some time in February … just keep visualising the finish line, that’s what I say!

So my training has begun.  My intention is to follow a training plan that will take me to half marathon distance this side of Christmas (I may actually run one if I can find one that suits) and then begin the serious training after that.  I’ve been advised by pretty much everybody who knows anything about running marathons that the sooner I start, the better.  To be honest, I need the focus as my training has been a little haphazard since returning from the US at the end of June.

My lighter life progress has been a bit up and down too.  I’m losing weight consistently (over a stone in three weeks) but I’ve found it very difficult to be as disciplined this time as I was previously.  I’m trying my damnedest to keep on track … I know that if I keep falling off the wagon then I’m simply shooting myself in the foot by slowing down the loss.  To be honest, if I don’t manage to keep myself in check, then I’ll need to think very seriously about whether to continue.  I’m going to give it another week and see how I go … as we all know the speedy weight loss becomes very seductive the longer you go on, so maybe that will help!

So … here’s to the second biggest challenge of my life (the first being the weight loss).  I have only three words, and three which I overuse quite a bit … BRING IT ON!

Days 527 to 534 – Back In The Swing 28 July 2009

I went to my group last night and was delighted to find that I’ve lost 3kg/6lb since last Monday.  That’s a very satisfying 4kg/8lb since starting this ten days ago.  Hooray!

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need the boost.  While there’s a sense of familiarity with the diet that’s standing me in good stead, it’s definitely harder the second time around.  That’s completely understandable, really.  Nobody gets to the end of this diet the first time and thinks ‘ooh, I’ll definitely be doing THAT again’ … unless they’re crackers, that is.  So I’m pleased on all counts … pleased that it’s working, pleased that I’ve managed to slip back into it relatively painlessly and pleased that my jeans feel baggier already.

Last week was quite tough in terms of the situations I found myself in.  I sat through one of the world’s most boring all day meetings on Friday … usually (as I’ve said in this blog before) carte blanche to tuck into the biscuits and goodies to alleviate the dullness and stay awake.  Not for me, obviously.  I was the one skating the fine line between drinking sufficient fluid and taking so much caffeine on board that I resembled a zombie on a cakewalk.  They even served Ben & Jerry’s mid-afternoon, but I stuck to my guns while cookie dough was devoured all around me.

Then on Saturday we went to visit friends in Cirencester.  Despite assurances to the contrary, I pretty much sat and watched people eat and drink from lunchtime on Saturday until breakfast on Sunday.  Pub lunch … great idea!  Evening barbecue … even better!  But I busied myself with washing up, instigating the ‘name that cider’ challenge (because I was the only one not drinking and therefore impartial) and accidentally creating explosive drinks with sparkling mineral water and Sunrise Orange drink mix.

The thing is, it’s not really a hardship.  Anyone can look at their social diary and think ‘well, I can’t be in abstinence that week because x is happening, or on that day because of y’ … it’s a cliche but there’s never a good time to be doing this.  When I found myself feeling hard done by, I cast my mind back to last year and tried to think of any significant events that I’d missed out on through dieting.  I couldn’t think of one, and that’s the honest truth.  It might be frustrating at the time, but I doubt very much that I’ll look back in years to come and think ‘if onlyI’d been able to have that scotch egg at Fred’s summer picnic in July 2008 then I could die a happy woman’.  Well, I hope not, anyway.

One thing I’ve got to be careful about is picking at food.  When I did this before I was religious about it.  Not a morsel of illegal food passed my lips during foundation and, with a couple of key exceptions, most of development.  I’m currently finding myself tempted to ’sample’ scraps of meat from the Boy’s plate.  It’s a bad habit and I need to break it.  I’ll kick myself if I knock myself out of ketosis for the sake of a pea-sized sliver of something forbidden.  What’s the point?

I’m also back in training.  I had my first session with my new trainer yesterday and it was great to be back in the saddle (as it were).  I’m still wondering whether or not to tell him about the diet, mainly because I’m reasonably certain that he wouldn’t be keen on it.  I’m going to mull that one over before I see him again.  I’m also embarking on a half marathon training programme with a view to running 13 miles (in a race or on my own) in the autumn.  That will stand me in good stead for the proper marathon training from January … if I finally manage to secure a place, that is.

So I’m feeling good and very positive.  Let’s hope that frame of mind carries me through the weeks to come.

Day 526 – To Tell Or Not To Tell? 20 July 2009

Well, I survived the first 24 hours and I’m halfway through day 2.  So far, so good.  I’m hoping that it becomes second nature … I ought to know the ins and outs of this diet by now!

The one thing I’m wrestling with is whether to tell people or not.  Last time I opted for absolute openness and received phenomenal support from everyone around me.  That was great.  However, this time I’m tempted to act on a ‘need to know’ basis.  The first reason for this is, frankly, my own ego.  Despite how I rationalise it to myself, there is a sense of failure associated with the fact that I’m doing this again.  Crooked thinking, I know, but there you have it.  Secondly, and more importantly, I’m worried about sabotage (it’s funny to slip back into the vocabulary of Lighter Life!).  When I was at my biggest, it was unarguable that I needed to lose weight.  It’s very different when you’re only a few stone in the wrong direction.  I’m worried that people will say ‘don’t be silly … you lost all the weight … now you’re being stupid and don’t need to lose more’.  I don’t want to do a disservice to my nearest and dearest, but that’s what I’m worried about.  Even worse, there may be those who go one step further into the ‘told you so!’ territory around LL being a bad diet per se.  I don’t want or need that, frankly.

Maybe I’ll test the water with a few people and see how it goes.  If I don’t, I’ll only have to fend off the barrage of ‘are you pregnant?’ questions that will hit me because I’m not drinking!

Secretly or not, I’ve got off to a good start.  I didn’t go through days of detox hell last time, so I’m hoping that this time will be no different.  I’m two litres into my water allowance, armed with minty mouth spray, about to go and buy extra reserves of tabasco … in short, I’m prepared.  Bring it on (again)!

Days 503 to 525 – Big Decisions 19 July 2009

After a lot of soul searching, I’m back on Lighter Life.  Today is my first day.

I thought about it for a long time.  I had to get over the feeling that I’d somehow failed which, given how far I’ve come since the beginning of last year, is quite ridiculous.  The conclusion I’ve come to is that I finished too early before.  I got to the top end of my target weight zone and stopped dieting … at the time I’d had enough of abstinence and part of the reason for moving into management was so that I didn’t fall off the wagon completely.  With hindsight, I should’ve stuck at it for a few weeks more to give myself that crucial comfort zone of half a stone or so.  But, as they say, hindsight is a wonderful thing!

On a positive note, I’ve got the benefit of everything I’ve learnt since starting this before.  Importantly, I’ve got a clearer idea about what ‘normal’ means to me and what I want to achieve.  Last time I was simply running in the dark.  I’m hoping that this time around I’ll succeed once and for all … I don’t want to be one of those people who relies on the diet on an ongoing basis.  That’s not a healthy way to be.

So wish me luck!  I need to regain the focus that I had last time and stick at it.  In a weird way, there’s something quite comforting about going back to the routine, but I’m sure I’ll be over that within a day or so.  Here goes nothing!

Days 501 to 502 – Tweet, tweet 26 June 2009

Just a quick note to say that I’m experimenting with twitter and am @tisw.  I’m not sure how it will work, but let’s see!  If I can get my non-techy head around it, I’ll put a badge on the page too.

I also submitted my application yesterday to Barnardo’s for a guaranteed place in the London Marathon next year.  I know that competition for these places can be fierce, so I’m keeping everything crossed.  Even though there’s still part of me that thinks I’ve lost my marbles!

Days 453 to 500 – Refreshed & Ready To Go 24 June 2009

I’ve been away for weeks … not just away from this blog but away from this country.  I took a long-anticipated once-in-a-lifetime holiday to the US (a road trip from NYC to Miami via Tennessee and New Orleans, which I recommend to anyone!).  And now I’m back and struggling slightly with the return to normality!

Staggeringly, I managed the trip without adding too many unwanted pounds to my waistline.  My weight seems to have settled (finally).  I would estimate that I’m between a stone and a stone and a half heavier than when I finished Lighter Life.  I spent about nine months fluctuating, and that seems to be where I’ve netted out.  I’m heavier than I want to be, but at least it’s stabilised and I can do something about it.

It is incredibly difficult to eat healthily on holiday, especially in a country that prides itself on portion sizes that are daunting to even the hungriest Brit.  We also seemed to be travelling through states where the local specialities were fried, or carb-heavy, or both.  I swear that finding a salad on some restaurant menus in Tennessee was like looking for Father Christmas in July.  Instead we were faced with such exotic delights as biscuits and gravy, grits, buttermilk pancakes, jambalaya, po-boys and fried green tomatoes.  And, of course, this was all washed down with beer … wine is prohibitively expensive (and pretty nasty, too, as people rarely drink it and it turns to sherry in the heat) and shorts are a no-no because the heavily chlorinated ice makes G&T taste like swimming pool water.

So, I tried to be sensible.  I ate light in the evening, drank plenty of water so I didn’t confuse thirst with hunger, and endeavoured to keep active (more on that later) to counteract long, lazy hours in the car.  I think I just about got away with it.  Only just!  I have to say I’m glad to be back home and to have more control over what I cook and eat.  Vegetables and salad are going to feature highly on my menu over the coming weeks!

With good intentions I took my running gear with me.  I ran 2 miles in a hotel gym in New York, and 3 miles around the suburbs of Washington.  I went swimming in Asheville, but was slightly put off by the dead flies in the pool (yum!) and only managed an energetic paddle.  Then we moved further south, and into the heat.  I valiantly tried to run in Memphis, but struggled to manage more than a mile … the humidity was so high that I was chewing the air rather than breathing it.  I did get raced down the street by a man in a street sweeping buggy, mind you!  After that, I had to abandon the running and simply try to jump into any available pools or oceans whenever possible!  I’ve not been for a run since coming home (I’m so jet-lagged I can barely walk, let alone pick up speed) but have good intentions of getting my backside back into training ASAP.

On that note, my lovely trainer has gone on his four month trip that will take him back to Australia.  I really will miss him as we had a great relationship and I achieved things I didn’t think I could achieve.  He’s recommended another trainer and I’m meeting him today … I’m hoping that I manage to click with him because it would be so easy for me to abandon personal training altogether, and that would be dangerous.  I need to shift that surplus stone and get marathon fit!

So … back to the routine for me, and not before time!  During the course of our travels we saw many, many people who were seriously overweight.  Some of those people, sadly, were in their teens and twenties, alongside middle-aged people who travel on scooters because they’re simply unable to walk for any period of time.  Looking at them made me realise how easy it is to be overweight in our society, how difficult it is (mentally, more than anything) to do something about it, but how rewarding a healthier lifestyle can be.  So to all of us, let’s stick with it!

Days 418 to 452 – The Race Is On 7 May 2009

I ran my first ever group race last night at the Cancer Research Race For Life in Battersea Park.  It was an amazing experience with a really great atmosphere.  For those of you who don’t know, it’s a sponsored 5K event, for women only and you can run or jog or walk.  A brilliant idea.

More through luck than judgement I ended up three rows from the front when they sounded the horn at the starting line.  Despite being well aware of the need to pace myself, and to resist the temptation to go too fast too soon, I shot off like a rocket and positively flew past the 1K marker.  Well, I was excited, can you blame me?  I was also experiencing something that marathon-running friends have warned me about … if you start at the front then it’s very disconcerting to watch faster people coming from just behind and overtaking you, so you tend to try and keep up with them.  Clearly I’m not a bad runner, but I’m no Paula Radcliffe, so it was slightly foolish to be keeping pace with very svelte, very speedy and clearly very experienced runners.

I learnt my lesson the hard way as I approached 4K.  I couldn’t keep up my crazy pace … I was running at 5.20/km or 8.54/mile as opposed to my usual 6.12/km or 10/mile.  That’s quite a difference!  I slowed down miserably to a brisk walk, and contemplated my rash stupidity.  A swift thump in the back and a ‘come on mate, we’re nearly there!’ from a lovely blonde lady was all the impetus I needed and I dashed for the finish.  I romped home in a very respectable 27 mins and 33 seconds which, for the pace geeks among you, is 5.30/km or 9.01/mile.  Hurrah.

What I ought to tell you is that I couldn’t have managed another metre at that pace.  Seriously.  There’s a fine line between enthusiasm and lunacy and I crossed it

I came to several conclusions last night.  It strengthened my resolve to take on the big challenge of a marathon, and reminded me of the enormity of the task that lies ahead in order to achieve that.  I’m looking at four months (at least) of pretty hardcore training, which scares and excites me in equal measure.  I’m a long way from 26 miles.  I also resolved never to go running again without my trusty iPod.  Clearly we weren’t going to get cheering marathon crowds along the route last night (especially as we were facing stiff competition from the Chelsea vs. Barcelona match), but I needed something more than sporadic polite applause and the cheery grins of race marshalls to spur me on.  Also, without music in my ears, I became very conscious of my own breathing and the collective grunting and panting going on around me.  All rather unpleasant, frankly!  Most of all, I realised how wonderful it is to cross a finish line, feel a real sense of achievement, and be handed a shiny medal to cap it all off.  I don’t think I’m a glory hunter (you’d have to be unhinged to run 26 miles purely to get some attention) but it was very satisfying and made me feel on top of the world.

I could’ve done without the mile and a half walk home, mind you!

I’ve also, incidentally, entered the ballot for the 2010 London Marathon in case I don’t succeed with New York (I find out in mid-May, whenever they define that to be).  I was thoroughly inspired by watching friends of mine this year, although having seen them limping around on the Monday, maybe I’m not so sure!  Perhaps I should’ve taken up something a little more genteel.  Anyone for croquet?

Days 409 to 417 – Bruised But Buoyant 2 April 2009

I now know definitively that I could never have been a spy.  Why?  Well, apart from the fact that I do actually talk about the weather a lot (which is how numerous British spies have been rumbled, apparently), any given enemy could extract information from me simply by giving me a sports massage.

I’m serious.  I had my first (sadly not my only) session with a masseur last night.  For those of you whose knowledge of anatomy is better than mine, I have very tight IT Bands which are causing patella problems.  For the rest of us plebs, my knees are sore because the muscles in my upper legs are knackered.  I’ve been advised to get this sorted out to prevent crippling injury in the future.  That’s fine, but the handful of people who actually know what I’m talking about when I mention this have all had an identical reaction … rolling their eyes, scrunching up their foreheads and saying (slightly gleefully, I might add) ‘oh, that’s really going to hurt because they dig their elbows in and everything‘.

They weren’t lying.  I lay there (with nothing but two hastily consumed Nurofen Plus on my side) and a perfectly nice lady called Kellie began what I can only describe as a sustained physical assault on my person.  I had a proper ‘fight or flight’ reaction … when I’d stopped trying to escape from under her hands I then had to resist the temptation to smack her squarely in the face.  It was excruciating, and I’m no lightweight when it comes to pain.  She gaily told me that she’s reduced burly rugby players to tears and that one female client of hers compared this massage to childbirth.  I’ve had gallstones in the past, which is also often compared to childbirth, and I have to say that this massage left the gallstones standing.  As for childbirth … well I doubt I’ll ever have sex again, just in case.

As I lay there trying to control my involuntary swearing (sorry, Kellie) I felt almost nostalgic for the days when I was a squidgy, idle couch potato whose idea of exercise was a leisurely stroll to the tube station.  But, between the blinding flashes of agony, I also thought about how incredible it feels to be ‘new me’ and how joyous it is to go out running on sunny evenings without feeling like I might die at any moment.

My diet has been nothing short of a shambles.  I’ve concluded that there is a limited amount of information that my brain can contain at any given moment … because I’m so stupidly busy at work I barely know if I’m coming or going and can just about manage to process the chain of thought that says ‘you’re hungry so eat something’ without wondering whether it should be brazil nuts, dry Ryvita or natural yoghurt and whether or not I’m sticking to three-hourly intervals.  The best I can do is make sure I have breakfast (I’ve given up on muesli as it makes me nauseous and now have a very pleasant protein shake instead), avoid carbs in the evening, steer clear of silly foods where possible and lay off the booze during the week.  I’m sure my trainer will have something to say about that, but I have to be reasonable otherwise I simply end up beating myself up.

I’m not quite back up to my previous running levels as I only got the all clear about a week ago.  I’ve done a 2.5 mile and a 3.5 mile run so far and fully intend to get back up to 5 before the end of the weekend.  Otherwise I needn’t have bothered with that delightful massage, need I?

Days 381 to 408 – Broken Body, Broken Mind 24 March 2009

This may be the longest gap between posts ever, for which I apologise unreservedly.  I’ve been flat out busy at work and, frankly, the last thing I want to do when I get home after a day like that is log on.  But here I am … eventually.

I buggered up my back two weeks ago, which was a real blow.  I was running home and everything was going really well … I was enjoying it, my pace was good and it was feeling relatively effortless.  Then, about half a mile from home, it went ‘ping’.  It hurt so much that at first I thought my house keys (in the bum bag around my waist) had accidentally jabbed into my back.  Sadly not.  By the time I got home it was crippling.  I had no choice but to go and see a physio.  She told me I had trapped a facet, gave me lots of exercises to do and banned me from running and other high-impact or weight-orientated activities until it was better.

I really hoped I’d be able to run again last week, but she only gave me the all clear this morning.  Trust my luck that it’s been the sunniest week of the year so far and I’ve been trapped inside!  But I’m hoping to get out tonight if I ever escape from my desk …

As always seems to be the way with me, that was another example of ‘one step forward, two steps back’.  I was really getting into the swing of my diet and my training before the back incident.  I had even begun to do circuit training with my trainer … what sort of hell on earth is that?!  It’s true that the sense of achievement after four exhausting circuits is pretty much second to none, but it doesn’t make it any damn easier!

The problem was that the physical setback gave me quite a massive mental setback too.  I slipped into a mindset of ‘I don’t know why I bother’.  That attitude is very much old me vs. new me, and I was alarmed to find myself thinking like that.  It’s taken quite a lot of effort to snap myself out of it, too.  I’m hoping that when I get back into the gym then I’ll rediscover my motivation.

So here’s to sunshine and enthusiasm, and boy are they overdue

Days 373 to 380 – Fitness one, weight nil. 24 February 2009

I’m exercising like a demon.  I’m finding it easier to get out of bed in the morning and am managing to stick to my rather punishing schedule of four cardio sessions a week, which is great.  I don’t find myself thinking ‘oh I can’t be arsed today’, I find myself thinking ‘if I don’t do it today then I’ll just have to do it tomorrow’, which is quite a significant mind shift from my old, lazy self.

And it’s paying off.  I’m conscious that, whatever type of exercise or fitness challenge I set myself, it’s getting easier all the time.  I’m a million miles away from ’super fit’, but I’m not sure I’d still class myself as ‘unfit’.  That’s what keeps me going on the treadmill in the morning.  Talking of which, I’m trying to mix it up between outdoor running and indoor running.  At the beginning I was super keen to reject the gym in favour of the great outdoors, but there are definite benefits to combining the two.  Not only is it a bit more gentle on my joints (especially as a relative novice) but I can vary my speed and incline at will … it’s all very well being able to plod along a flat pavement, but I need to start tackling those hills.

On the diet front, last week wasn’t so great.  I knew that long, catered meetings would play havoc with my good intentions.  It was partly because the food on offer wasn’t particularly healthy, and partly because I simply lacked the willpower to avoid some of the naughty things available.  I’m not going to make excuses … I buggered up.

But … I’ve picked myself up!  I ate so healthily yesterday that I deserve a halo, frankly, and I intend to do the same all week.  I can’t start throwing in the towel because of one week’s setback.

I also bit the bullet on Sunday and applied for the New York marathon.  I find out in May whether or not I’ve been successful.  So keep your fingers crossed for me …

Days 367 to 372 – Routine, schmoutine 16 February 2009

Well, the last few days have been a case of one step forward and two steps back … this is becoming alarmingly typical for me, it seems.  It turns out that I did actually injure my left leg in the spin class on Monday, and the fact that I went ahead with my run on Wednesday morning really didn’t help.  I’m having to learn the difference between sore muscles and injured ones, and last week I learned the hard way.  I spent the end of the week limping around and giving off a pungent odour of deep heat rub as I tried to get my leg back to normal.  Mission accomplished, however.  It meant I was able to go for a run on Sunday morning around the Common, although I had to limit it to 3.5km as I was pushed for time and nervous about my poor old pins.

Despite the hobbling, I was relatively successful with my training last week.  I managed 45 mins spin on Monday, 45 mins yoga on Tuesday, a 4 mile / 6.5 km treadmill run on Wednesday, weight training with my trainer on Friday and a short run on Sunday.  I was very pleased with that.  Oh, and add an hour mucking about on the Wii Fit on Saturday (yes, that is how we spent a large chunk of Valentine’s day!).  This spurred me on to repeat the same this week but, irritatingly, it looks like life is going to get in the way.  I have to spend two days of this week in all day meetings out of town (proper 8am to 6pm jobs) which is going to make fitting everything in very difficult.  It’s frustrating that my attempts at making a firm routine can get disrupted so easily … that, unfortunately, is one of the ‘perks’ of my job.

The diet went reasonably well too, although it fell apart over the weekend (although I’m theoretically allowed two days off).  The combination of my Mum’s birthday dinner, Valentine’s Day and having guests round on Sunday meant that I consumed considerably more naughty food than I should have done.  So I’m going to have to try and be extra strict this week … and going to catered meetings is going to make that tricky.  Funnily enough it was easier when I was doing lighter life.  I didn’t have to navigate the minefield of whatever food was on offer, I simply had to eat my packs and be done with it.  The excuse of a ’special diet’ meant that nobody batted an eyelid, whereas turning up with your own food in a bag could be construed as weird and/or rude.  Maybe I just need to bite the bullet and do that.

I’m still struggling to eat as soon as I get up.  Even though I’m only eating a tiny bowl of muesli, I literally find myself forcing it into my mouth.  It’s amazing how you can get really turned off a food that you previously didn’t really care about either way

I’m going back to the spin class tonight.  I’m not sure if we’ll have the same instructor, but I’m hoping it’s someone else.  When I discussed the class with my trainer, there was a lot of head shaking and eye rolling.  Apparently, cycling with one leg at a time, cycling with zero resistance on the bike or doing squats while pedalling are absolute no-nos, and we were told to do the first two.  I know that people’s opinions on what is or isn’t good training will differ, but it makes me a bit nervous to think that the instructor might not know exactly what they’re supposed to be doing.  I’ll see what happens tonight and then make a decision about the class.

And then I have to go home and eat a healthy dinner of smoked fish and no carbs while the Boy merrily tucks into the roast leftovers from the weekend.  Boo!

Day 366 – High Speeds And Good Vibes 10 February 2009

Well, I survived last night’s class.  I arrived early and opted for a bike in the back row … mainly because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone being given a close-up view of my lycra-clad backside as I struggled and sweated away.  I then spent ten minutes trying to adjust the damn thing so that my knees weren’t hitting me in the chin with every pedal and my hands could actually reach the handlebars.  My trainer has been banging on about the importance of getting your bike in the right position … sadly he’s never got as far as showing me exactly what that position is (a big thank-you to the patient woman next to me for helping out).  Having got comfortable (well, as comfortable as it’s possible to be on a concrete saddle that’s the width of a ruler) I was ready to go.  Unfortunately, the world’s tallest man had opted for the bike directly between me and the class trainer, so I couldn’t see her at all.  I decided I’d be fine if I just concentrated on what she was saying.  Now I’m sure she did a splendid job of instructing us, but if you can imagine trying to listen to a diminutive woman with a heavy Eastern European accent yelling over the top of ear-splitting dance music then you’ll get some idea of what the experience was like.

But I got into it.  I managed to deciper ’sprint!’, ‘rest!’ and ‘turn it up 10!’ from whatever else she said, which was helpful.  (By the way, if anyone can explain to me how an unmarked resistance dial is turned up or down in units of ten, I’d be very grateful).  I didn’t have a heart attack, I didn’t have to stop pedalling, and I didn’t embarrass myself … although my left foot developed a life of its own and fell out of the pedal clasp twice, which was alarmingly painful as my leg crashed down towards the floor.  Oh happy days.

Feeling extremely virtuous I went home and cooked a carb-free stew of lean beef, beetroot, cabbage and courgettes … and bloody good it was too.  That said, I was really quite hungry again by the time I went to bed and can only put that down to the lack of carbs.  I’m hoping that I get used to that in time … even on lighter life I used to have my food bar in the evening.

This morning I was up at some ridiculous hour and forcing myself to eat muesli.  That’s another thing I need to get used to as I don’t normally have breakfast for a good two hours after getting up.  Immediate eating is a must, apparently, if I’m to make friends with my ever-sluggish metabolism.  I then took myself off to a yoga class on the way to work.  Now, without offending anyone, I have a natural antipathy towards yoga.  It’s all a bit worthy for me (and I have vivid memories of having to leave a class early in hysterics many years ago thanks to a particularly flatulent member of the class).

But this morning was great!  I really enjoyed myself, despite being hopeless at most of the exercises.  It became abundantly clear to me exactly why I need to do this.  My stability and balance is so poor that I can’t even balance on my left leg … how pathetic is that?  Now I know why my trainer rolls his eyes and mutters about yoga when I lift a weight and topple over.  So I’m going to try and stick with this class.  Apart from anything else, it’s a great way to start the day (believe it or not).

I’m due a 4 mile/6.5 km run tomorrow and I’m actually quite looking forward to it.  My only slight worry is that my poor old left leg might give up on me as my spinning clumsiness means I’m sure I’ve pulled something.  Here’s hoping I’ve not been a victim of my own enthusiasm, eh.

Days 354 to 365 – Happy Anniversary! 9 February 2009

What a cheerful little soul I was last time!  Dear me … I must remember not to blog late at night after a glass of wine or two.  I clearly get terribly, er,  philosophical   Actually, the long and the short of it was that I was doing too much.  I was setting expectations of myself that weren’t achievable, was therefore feeling a sense of failure, and getting royally pissed off with myself as a result.  I’ve acknowledged that now, and I’m trying to be disciplined without being unrealistic.

So it was a year ago tomorrow that I began the process of turning my back on my old self.  In a bizarre twist of coincidence (and I swear I didn’t plan this) today is the day that I’m beginning my new food regime, as recommended by my fabulous (and ever patient) personal trainer.  It’s odd to be in a situation where I’m dieting again, but I’m trying not to see it that way.  I’m trying to see it as the second phase in my development … phase one was from fat to thin(ner) and phase two is from unfit to fit.  If I’m going to place hefty physical demands on myself, then I need to feed my body the right things.

My new regime is based on eating little and often (6 small meals a day) and getting my carb intake early in the day rather than late.  All perfectly sensible.  So my food intake today looks something like this, all washed down with about two and a half litres of water:

7am (much, much earlier than normal!): a small bowl of muesli and skimmed milk.

9.30am: a handful of brazil nuts and small apple.

12pm (again, very early for lunch): a grilled chicken breast with brown rice and salad.

2.30pm: more nuts.

5pm: half a small tub of low fat cottage cheese on two Ryvitas.

8pm: lean meat with either salad or steamed vegetables (but no carbs allowed).

Exciting, huh?  The more astute among you will have noticed the absence of chocolate, biscuits, cake or booze … more’s the pity.  The intention is that I will eat according to this plan for at least 5 days out of 7 (obviously changing the types of meat etc.).  Frankly, given that I spent half of last year subsisting on soups and shakes, I know that I can do this.  And, as I’ve said before, having a regime really helps me.  I’ve proved over and over again that I have no discipline when left to my own devices.  I’m clearly better than I was, but I’m not ‘fixed’.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

In terms of exercise, I’m back on track.  I know now that the reason I was beginning to ‘fail’ with the running was because I was pushing myself too hard and too fast.  I’m now happily getting into the regime of one short run (4 miles/6.5km) and one longer run (over 5 miles/8km) per week, along with one additional non-running cardio session on my own and one weight-training session with my trainer.  On top of that I’ve been strongly recommended to add yoga and/or pilates … if I don’t run out of hours in the day I’m going to try that too.  I’m trying to enjoy the novelty of this routine so much that it becomes a habit.  We’ll see.

To that end, I’m off to a spin class this evening.  I’m absurdly nervous, to be honest … I’m not good in group exercise situations, and I have a sneaking suspicion that everyone else will be athletically brilliant whereas I’ll make an idiot of myself.  I’m going to get there super early so I can bag a bike at the very back of the class.  Perhaps the one nearest the door …

Days 348 to 353 – Another Year Older 28 January 2009

It’s my birthday today.  Well, strictly speaking, it was my birthday yesterday, given that it’s almost one in the morning.  And I just had a very strange moment in the bathroom (how freaky does that sound?).  I was merrily cleaning my teeth when I looked down at my legs and feet and was struck for the millionth time how different I look.  It was around this time last year that I was bracing myself to begin lighter life in a week or so.  A year ago I was very fat, very unhappy about it, and desperate to change.  I was also very scared about it.  Now, I’ve been through what can only be described as a rollercoaster ride and yet I’m still feeling a bit awkward, a bit unusual, and not 100% certain about myself.

The ‘big diet’ is over.  I’ve come so far since last year that I can’t quite sum it up in words.  However, I’m still struggling.  I’m still not totally comfortable with myself.  I’m still in a situation where I’m setting myself strenuous (unrealistic?) goals in order to feel happy.  Does this ever stop?  Will I ever wake up and feel at peace and at ease with myself?  In all honesty (and I’ve always tried to be honest in this blog) I don’t know.  And that really bugs me!

On the running front, I’ve been told to ease up.  My trainer spoke to a physiotherapist colleague of his, and she told him that I shouldn’t run more frequently than twice a week.  She was worried about the damage that I might do to my joints and bones … fair comment, given that I’ve done pretty much zero exercise over the last thirty-odd years of my life.  However, that feels like a setback for me.  I’ve finally found something that I feel happy doing, and I’ve been told to put the brakes on.  How bloody frustrating!  And to add to the irritation, I know that they’re right.  I ran home last Thursday and had to stop after only three miles because I felt exhausted.  As I said in my last post, I had just begun to feel that I could actually be a successful runner, and yet on the next running outing I just couldn’t complete my target of getting home.  Frustrated and angry I rang the Boy, and his immediate response was to tell me that running three miles was an achievement in itself and I shouldn’t beat myself up.  Of course he was right, but that didn’t alter how I felt at the time.  Grrrrr!

I went for a run this morning.  Just once around the Common.  I was in great spirits (birthdays do that to you) but I was very conscious that some of my impetus was missing.  I need to brace myself again.  I’ve come to learn over the past months that I need to consciously push myself forwards … the problem is that I’m not used to what I would call failure.  It knocks me sideways.  Having hated so many things about myself for so long, and then having overcome that hatred, it’s pretty bloody tough to face up to the fact that you might still be as flawed as you always were.

Am I being hard on myself?  Probably!  These are the kind of negative thoughts that would, in my past life, have made me take refuge in food (I guess).  And that’s not the case.

Despite what this post may suggest, I’m embracing the beginning of my 37th year (not least because it has been hilarious to remind my parents that their first born ‘baby’ is now 36 years old).  I have learnt more about myself in the last twelve months than I care to think about but, at the risk of speaking in cliches, I have to move onwards and upwards.

In terms of my diet, my trainer is going to give me a diet plan on Friday morning.  Half of me is going to resist this vehemently, whereas the other half of me will be quietly relieved to think that (once again) my nutritional discipline is out of my hands.  I’m interested to see what he suggests … I’ll share it with you all and you can judge for yourselves.

Here’s to the imminent end of January … it’s the month that everyone hates, isn’t it?  Well, apart from us Aquarians   Good luck to all of you who’ve chosen the new year to make significant changes to your weight and your health.  Take it from one who knows … you won’t regret it.

Days 345 to 347 – Yes We Can! 21 January 2009

Sorry … forgive the slightly corny title, but I feel a bit like that at the moment.  Buoyed up from watching history in the making yesterday I ran home again, this time via a slightly different and fractionally longer route.  I was hoping to achieve 5 miles/8 km, according to the route planner, but my running watch told me I’d actually done 4.8 miles/7.7 km.  Frustratingly close!  I should’ve run around the block a couple of times

The good news is that, as I was crossing Waterloo Bridge (arguably the most beautiful view of the Thames, I hope you agree!) and heading for Kennington, I felt very comfortable about what I was doing.  I was in a rhythm, making reasonable progress and enjoying myself.  I began to feel, probably for the first time, that the goal I’ve set myself is an achievable one.  A bit like Thomas the Tank Engine, the words ‘you can do it, you can do it’ were going round and round inside my head (to the accompaniment of something suitably rousing like The Pogues’ Fiesta, probably).  That felt great.  I didn’t feel like a very recently ex-fat girl who was wildly overstepping the mark.

I think my positive frame of mind was helped by the fact that I was relentlessly healthy yesterday.  Cereal for breakfast, then home-made vegetable soup and home-baked rye bread for lunch, washed down with lots of water meant that I felt good on the inside too.  I felt light and not weighed down.  I even managed to steer clear of the celebratory hot dogs and Budweiser that was on offer in the agency during the inauguration speech … it would have been so easy to cave in, have a drink or two, and commit to running home another night.

But before you think I’m too smug and saintly for words, I promptly ruined everything by meeting my Dad last night for a curry and red wine … whoops!  This is something I need to be very careful about.  I can’t use exercise as an excuse to take my eye off the ball when it comes to what I’m eating.  It wouldn’t be so much of an issue if I was at my perfect weight, which I most certainly am not!  I could kid myself that the scales have crept in the wrong direction because muscle weighs more than fat, but I’d be lying to myself.  The fact that my (size 12) denim skirt that I’m wearing today is decidedly on the snug side proves that … it’s not muscle, or the washing machine, it’s over-indulgence.

So, with the running training seemingly taking care of itself, I need to focus now on what I put into my mouth.  And that, as we all know, is not something that I’m particularly expert at.

Days 333 to 344 – The Next Chapter 18 January 2009

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the direction of this blog since completing lighter life.  Clearly, given that I’m not actually following the diet any more, I either need to wrap it up or find new topics to discuss on a regular basis (it won’t have escaped some of you that my posts have got fewer and further between).

I don’t want to stop blogging.  I’ve had numerous posts and emails from people who say that they are interested in finding out what happens to someone after the diet.  Does it all go horribly wrong?  Does the weight pile back on?  Is it a short-term fix that doesn’t resolve long-term problems?  For that reason, I”m going to keep writing, and intend to be as honest as possible about what happens to me in the future.

Also, I have resolved to follow a regular exercise regime with running as my primary focus.  As I begin the uphill climb towards a marathon (fingers crossed) I want to document the trials and tribulations of beginning from a cold start and attempting to run 26 miles.  Speaking selfishly, I found that the blog really helped to keep me on track while I was dieting and I’m hoping that it will do the same for me while I’m training.  It’s not all about the exercise, either … I’m going to be working with my trainer to make sure that I”m eating the right foods while I’m doing this.

So this is where I go from here.  I had to summarise my goals for 2009 for my trainer last week and, in a nutshell, I think that 2008 was the year that I lost weight and 2009 will be the year when I get fit.  I hope!  I’m optimistic about my chances.  If last year taught me anything, it taught me that if I give myself a huge goal, then something in my psyche forces me towards it.  Here’s hoping I can replicate that success.

The running is going well.  I ran home from work on Thursday evening, having been encouraged by a friend of mine who does the same.  We spent a hilarious ten or so minutes dodging confused commuters on Tottenham Court Road and then went our separate ways at Trafalgar Square.  I was nervous … when you run with a fixed goal (i.e. your house) it’s very different from just going for a bit of a pootle round the Common.  I knew that there would only be one outcome … I would make it or I wouldn’t.   I tried to see the journey in stages … to the river, then to the Embankment, to Vauxhall, to Stockwell then home.  Those mini goals were vital in getting me home.  By the time I got to Vauxhall I was over the moon.  I told myself that I’d really broken the back of it and was on the home straight.  Then, at Stockwell, I was ready to give up.  I wasn’t knackered, or struggling, I was just over the whole thing.  Then my pride kicked in and I thought about the incredulous faces of my friends as they asked ‘You got to Stockwell and gave up?  Five minutes from your house?!’.  So I pushed on, and sheer joy and adrenaline made me sprint from the end of my road to my front door.  I stumbled through the door, panting and sweating and ecstatic, and terrified the life out of my cat who went belting up the stairs.  I’d done it.

Flushed with that success (it’s about 4 and a half miles from work) I ran home from Crystal Palace yesterday.  That’s getting on for 5 miles.  The Boy has bought a flat to rent out (yes, some people are still buying houses!) and we’d been over there taking out the filthy old kitchen.  I have to say that my legs really don’t like me very much today, but they’re going to have to get used to it.  I intend to do two middle length runs (4 or 5 miles) and one longer one (between 5 and 10) every week.  Let’s see how I get on!

Food-wise, I’m trying to work off the excesses of Christmas.  We’ve started getting a vegetable box delivered every week with the aim of decreasing our takeaway consumption or temptation to go out.  Not only will it save us money in these cash-strapped times, but will be better for our health.  So far this year I’ve discovered the wonders of curly kale, pink fir apple potatoes, and fresh beetroot … I’m looking forward to some more weird and wonderful food concoctions!

So here begins phase 2 of this blog.  Let’s see how it goes, eh.

Days 320 to 332 – Happy New Year! 6 January 2009

OK, so wishing people a happy new year on the 6th of Jan is slightly belated, I know, but I realised with some relish that I hadn’t switched on a computer since my last post on 24th December.  For me, that’s unheard of.  I’m one of those people who’s usually only inches away from a laptop, blackberry and a mobile phone.  It’s nice to know that I can turn my back on them once in a while.

I’ve just come back from a week in Devon with the Boy and two other friends.  We rented a cottage on the outskirts of a town called Halsworthy, about half an hour from Bude.  It was a week of long walks, board games and home cooking.  In fact, cooking played rather a large part of the holiday.  We decided to play our own version of ‘come dine with me’ and took it in turns to cook dinner (slightly nerdily we also scored each other in secret and announced a winner on the final evening).  Clearly, with everyone aiming to impress in the kitchen, the potential for enormous calorie consumption was high.  In anticipation of this I made a pact with myself to keep up with the running … and run I did.  I went out on three mornings during the week we were there and managed one run of 5 miles and two runs of 3 miles.  I could’ve done more, I think, but on the second two runs the roads were extremely icy and very treacherous so I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and opted for an early shower rather than a broken ankle.

The fantastic thing is that I’m really starting to get a feel for running.  Once I’ve made the effort to get out there (and clambering out of bed at 8am in a cottage where you could see your breath condensing in the morning was no mean feat, I can tell you) and have got going, I now hit that point where I’m in a rhythm and really feeling good about it.  I feel as if I’m relaxing into it, if that makes sense.  You have to understand that, apart from swimming, I’ve always viewed exercise as some form of masochistic torture that people impose on themselves … now I’m beginning to see it differently.  Oh god … am I going to turn from a diet bore into an exercise bore?  Please shoot me if I do.

On a slighty less worthy note, my sister bought us a Wii fit for Christmas.  It’s absolutely brilliant … despite the fact that it had the cheek to tell me I’m overweight (well, that’s Christmas for you).  I thoroughly recommend one to anyone who’s feeling a bit squidgy around the middle after all the turkey … exercise in the comfort of your own front room is a simply genius idea, and much more fun than those hideous celebrity workout DVDs.  Frankly I don’t think using one will turn anyone into an olympic athlete, but I spent a couple of hours on it today and some of the exercises were taxing enough.  That also made me feel better about opting out of the run around the Common that I had planned for this morning … well, it was bloody snowing at the time!

So … here’s to a slightly punitive January after the excesses of last month.  Nice glass of carrot juice, anyone?

Days 299 to 319 – New Year’s Resolutions 24 December 2008

So it’s almost the end of the year that changed my life … and that’s not me being melodramatic, it’s the truth.  I almost can’t take it all in when I look back to where I was this time last year.  I’d already resolved that I would be beginning lighter life in February and was mentally preparing for it.  I remember thinking that I simply couldn’t wait to get going, and I’m indescribably happy that I did.

So what does next year hold?  Clearly I need to build on what I’ve achieved and not slip back into my mad and bad habits.  I’ve surprised myself with my willpower and my ability to stick to my resolutions … if you’d told me a year ago that I would been checking the Christmas opening times for my local gym then I would’ve laughed in your face.  I’ve realised that I need to impose discipline on myself and that goals are important to me so, to that end, I’ve taken up running with the ambition of running a marathon.  And this is from someone who has struggled in the past with running for a bus!  My original intention was to run London in 2010, but I was coerced by a colleague into running New York, with him, in November 2009.  Despite the fact that it’s almost Christmas, November next year seems scarily close!  But I think I can do it, as long as my knees, back or some other part of my anatomy doesn’t give up on me

I can now comfortably run 5K in the gym, and have started running outside to get used to the difference.  In fact, I was out running around Clapham Common this morning, while pretty much everyone else was lying in bed wondering when they could crack into the mince pies.  I’m really beginning to enjoy it … I may be stating the bleedin’ obvious, but when you can run without feeling like your lungs are going to burst, it’s actually quite therapeutic.  I’ve always been a fan of repetitive exercise (like swimming) because I just empty my mind and get on with it.  I really hate having to concentrate on what I’m lifting, or where the rest of the team are, or how many reps I’m supposed to be doing.  Running is easy.  You just put your shoes on and go … although it would be a lot more of a chore without my trusty ipod for company (I highly recommend Green Day for any aspiring runners out there!).

So that’s my resolution for next year.  I know that I can’t live on salad for the rest of my life, and if I’m running regularly then I’ve got half a chance of not being one of those people who watches the weight pile back on.  That would break my heart.

I mentioned in my last post just how difficult this time of year must be for anyone dieting, especially you lighter lifers.  Just remember what your long term goals are … a couple of days of indulgence doesn’t in any way compensate for the bonus of years of a healthier life.  You have my never ending respect and admiration … one of the reasons I waited until Feb to begin the diet was because I didn’t trust myself to stay on the straight and narrow over the festive season.  And, if you fall off the wagon, then just get straight back on it again!  As we all know, the world and his wife will be on some form of diet in January, so you’ll be in good company.

Happy Christmas and a fabulously svelte New Year! x

Days 277 to 298 – Santa Claus Is Coming To Town 3 December 2008

How the hell did December come around so quickly?  As you can tell by the three week gap since the last post (oops) it’s a crazily busy time of year for me.  Not only do we need to tie up 2008 and get ready for 2009, but then there’s the whole Christmas madness to contend with.  And that is a challenge and a half.

It occurred to me the other night, when I finally tumbled through my front door and collapsed thankfully in front of the TV, just how difficult it is to be sensible about food (or, for lighter lifers, avoid it) at this time of year.  The ad breaks on the TV are wall to wall with adverts for delicious Christmas treats, luxurious meals and special offers on those things that we love but know are terribly bad for us.  Everyone is in a more sociable mood and offers of nights out, drinks after work and long Sunday lunches are plentiful … not only that but well-meaning souls start doing festive things like bringing chocolates into the office.  For anyone trying to lose or maintain their weight, it’s a nightmare.  Despite the financial doom and gloom that’s filling every available column inch and news broadcast, people seem to still be adopting a ‘to hell with it’ attitude to Christmas at the moment.  There’s a real sense in the air of ‘indulge now and worry about it later’, or that’s what I’m sensing in my little corner of London, anyway.

As any veteran dieter will tell you, too many of us simply don’t worry about it later.  I’ve often asked myself how I ever got as big as I did, and the simple truth is that I didn’t act upon the consequences of my over-indulgence until it had got out of control.  Shifting half a stone once in a while would have been so much easier (and healthier) than waiting until I had to face shifting many, many stones all in one go.  And, as I’ve said before, I’ve still not quite cracked it.  Pairs of jeans that I bought in the summer, at the end of abstinence, are feeling a little tighter now because I’ve succumbed to the cold weather, the Christmas spirit and, frankly, my own weakness.  It’s unthinkable, and it makes me cross with myself!  I’m still trying to get that balance right … how long will it take me?

I’m still keeping up my training, despite a couple of setbacks due to my workload.  My clients are based about an hour and a half from London, and a succession of all day meetings over the past few weeks has played havoc with my gym schedule.  I’m trying desperately to keep at it … it would be terribly easy to say ‘oh, I’ll be good in January’, but that would mean beginning the year significantly heavier and much less fit to boot.  And I’m still trying to lose weight, dammit!  Plus, I can’t face the disapproval of my personal trainer … he’s got the measure of me, I can tell you.

So I guess I’m trying to be festive without being silly.  My plans to remain on the wagon went completely to the wall, but I’m finding it easier to order gin and slimline tonics these days rather than vats of red wine.  It’s noticeable how much difference that makes, which is heartening.  And I’m trying to balance calorific evenings or lunches out with penitent eating the following day.  Clearly that will all go to pieces over Christmas itself, but I’m not too worried about that.  For the first time in my life, I will feel as if I’ve earned it.

And for all of you who are in abstinence at the moment, I have to say that I take my hat off to you.  You deserve medals, you really do.

Day 276 – Focus, Focus, Focus 11 November 2008

I’m pleased to say that I’m in a much better frame of mind today!  I was really annoyed with myself yesterday … but the good thing is that my impromptu weigh-in at the gym was the kick in the backside that I needed.  It has forced me to get back on track … I think that after the rigorous regime of lighter life for all those months the natural rebel in me was beginning to resist my new-found (and blatantly necessary) routine.

So I’ve taken a grip of myself again.  I am now religiously counting calories.  Yes, it’s dull and yes, it’s one of those things that we all hate doing (and why we end up in a situation where lighter life is the answer) but I can’t argue with the simple truth that I need to be very conscious of what I’m eating and drinking, in the short term at least.  I’m keeping a daily food and exercise diary and will be weighing myself once a week to track my progress.  During lighter life I kept a spreadsheet of my weight loss … the Boy has suggested on numerous occasions that I should keep this going now I’m eating again (and not because he’s trying to make me anorexic, but because he knows how undisciplined I am!).  I will be monitoring the progress of my weight from now on, hopefully in a downward direction!

One of the main things that I learned on lighter life was that I don’t have any boundaries.  This doesn’t just apply to food, it applies to everything.  I need to have some sort of structure to stop myself from spiralling out of control.  Some people cut up their credit cards, and some people count calories … to me it’s the deliberate imposition of control and it amounts to the same thing.  Take my training as an example.  When I have an appointment with my trainer I make the effort to be there (even at ungodly o’clock on a Monday) but when I’m left to my own devices I can just as easily stay in bed, or in front of the TV, or go to the pub instead.  I have no inherent discipline at all!  Even beginning this blog was an intentional device to help me stick to the diet … it’s much harder to admit defeat, or cheat, or crawl back under your stone when other people are watching.

I feel better already, after just twenty four hours.  I’m happier in mind and I feel lighter in body.  Strange, isn’t it?  I also don’t feel guilty.  I was getting into that mindset of ‘you naughty girl, you had a glass of wine / bar of chocolate / extra slice of toast’, which is utterly pointless.  That gets you into an absurd cycle of comfort (or, more accurately, punishment) eating which, as we all know, is a one way ticket to weight hell.  It’s so much more beneficial to have a mindset built on balance.  Yes, you can have that chocolate bar, but you need to understand what it implies in the context of what else you feed your body on that day.  That’s control, and that’s adult behaviour.  As a novice to this way of thinking, being very mindful of my calorie intake until I can trust myself to make the right decisions automatically is a very good step forward.

So I’m taking my positive self out tonight to meet a friend of mine.  And, with my remaining 600 calories in the bank for today, I may just live dangerously and have a small gin and (slimline) tonic.  So there!

Days 270 to 275 – Back To Reality With A Bump 10 November 2008

The good time I had in New York came back to bite me this morning in the gym.  I’ve not had a personal training session since before I went on holiday (over two weeks ago) and have only managed a pitiful two cardio sessions on my own in that time.  So this morning I had a sleep-shattering 7am session with my trainer.  And guess what?  I struggled more than I have ever done before.  He did warn me that in a matter of a few days you can lose your level of fitness, and that my stability would suffer first (I wobble hilariously all over the place when I have to do anything that requires balance), but that still left me woefully unprepared for the reality of how crap I would actually be.  I felt as if I was back to square one.

Worse still, he weighed me for the first time since I began training with him.  I am now a dreadful 8 kilos heavier than when I finished dieting.  OK, I can put some of that down to my holiday, but it’s not a good place to be.  Had he not said to me ‘don’t let this break your heart, and don’t fixate on it, but use it as a reminder to spur yourself on’ then I would undoubtedly have been crying in the shower.  I have to say that I do love the way that my trainer approaches what he does … he is very straight and pulls no punches (well, he is an Aussie!) but tries to frame everything that he says as encouragement.  I fully expected to get a bollocking for slacking off over the past couple of weeks, but that wasn’t the case at all.  He just reminded me of what I’ve achieved this year, stressed the importance of keeping at it and warned me of the dangers of letting my training slide at this point in time.

He’s right, too.  The run up to Christmas is notoriously awful from a health and weight perspective.  It’s dark and cold all the time, which doesn’t exactly encourage you to leap out of bed and be active.  Hot, carb-laden comfort food seems to be high on the agenda (who really wants to eat salad when it’s snowing?) and the prospect of cozying up in a nice warm pub with a lovely pint of Guinness is very welcome indeed.  Well, I have to be strong.  My resolution to stay on the wagon crumbled on Friday night, but I got a grip on myself yesterday and spent a very sober Sunday night at our local pub quiz drinking mineral water like it was going out of fashion.  I dread to think how truly useless I would’ve been in the gym this morning with a hangover to boot … I think I might actually have been sick.  No more alcohol for me … I have to keep reminding myself that I might just as well be spooning sugar into my mouth.  It’s a miserable thought, but it’s true!

When I began lighter life, and the pounds started falling off, I had many conversations with people curious about how I would react if the weight just piled back on once the diet was over.  It seemed positively ludicrous at the time to think that I would ever let myself get big again … and only a few months later I’m finding that the pounds are making their insidious creep back on to my waistline.  Irritatingly, it’s not as if I lost the weight and then immediately reverted to my bad old ways, either!  This begs the question that many of us have asked ourselves over time … how do thin people manage to stay thin?  I know it’s all about balance (calories in, calories out) but it’s not easy.

That said, there is a huge amount of encouragement to be gleaned from the lighter life experience.  As I sat on one of the machines this morning, desperately trying to summon the energy to push heavy weights with tired arms just a few more times, I thought about how angry and frustrated I used to feel about being as overweight as I was.  That anger made those weights fly into the air, I can tell you!

On a more positive note, I thought I’d post a couple of pictures for reference.  The first is the Boy and I in New York in January of last year, about two weeks before I began the diet.  The second was taken two weeks ago.  Yes, I know I’m wrapped up in a coat in both pictures, and I guess I’m getting used to the difference between old and new me, but sometimes it’s still striking …

Days 252 to 269 – The Bigger Apple 4 November 2008

So here I am, back at my desk for the first time since my fabulous trip to New York.  I’m jet-lagged and struggling to concentrate, but really chilled out.  Having not managed to get a blog in before I left, I swore I’d get onto it as soon as I could.

New York was amazing.  I’ve been lucky enough to visit there many times over the past few years, but it never disappoints.  And this was my first trip as thin me!  One of my goals (or, more accurately, one of the lights at the end of my diet tunnel) was this holiday, which has been planned for months.  Whenever you mention New York, people’s first reaction tends to be ‘oh, you’ll do tons of shopping!’.  Prior to this trip, that wasn’t the case.  Shopping as an overweight person in London is bad enough, but shopping in the clothing mecca that is Manhattan is a thoroughly miserable experience.  I so badly wanted to visit the city as a ‘normal’ person, and now I have.  Despite the vagaries of the exchange rate at the moment I still managed to come home with an extra holdall of good value clothes … the timing of the diet and subsequent wardrobe clearout meant that I ended up with absolutely no warm winter togs so I promised myself a re-stock across the pond.  And re-stock I did.  I’m dreading looking at my bank balance …

Diet-wise I tried to be good, but it was bloody hard.  As we all know, holidays are challenging things when it comes to what you consume because everyone wants to have a good time and let their hair down.  Add to that the size of American portions, the fact that everything seems to come with a topping of melted cheese / mayo / pure lard and the fact that beer is the beverage of choice and it’s easy to be on a hiding to disaster.  On a daily basis the three of us (me, the Boy and a friend) would comment on what we came to know as our ‘New York chub’ and lamented the tightening of our collective waistbands.  To that end I refused point blank to make any purchases in a larger size than I’d achieved by the end of lighter life … if a sweater or a dress is a little snug at the moment then I’m damn well going to diet until it fits properly now I’m home.  I’ve gone back on the wagon for the foreseeable future (partly because of the chub and partly in solidarity with a friend of mine who’s off the booze too) and I’m anticipating that it will make the difference that I need.  Added to that, I’m cutting back on carbs and being very strict about portion sizes.  I’m going to have to bite the bullet and get on the scales tonight so I can measure that success (or lack of it) and stay on track for my goal of a ‘perfect’ weight by the end of the year.  The clock is ticking, and I need to get my act together.

Maybe it’s because my perspective is different now, but I couldn’t help noticing how much bigger the people in New York seemed to have become since my last visit in January 2007.  I’ve always had a slightly Sex-And-The-City-esque view of Manhattanites as well-dressed, stylish urban types in considerably better physical shape than some of their counterparts in the ’supersize zones’ of the USA, but this time I really did notice a difference.  Thankfully, that difference was among the adults.  There were very few examples of the terribly overweight children that I encountered on holiday in Tenerife.  Perhaps New Yorkers are ahead of their European counterparts when it comes to changing the nutritional habits of their kids.  Let’s hope so.

So now it’s back to reality with an unpleasant bump and not even the whiff of any time off until Christmas, but I can’t really complain   I just need to make sure that I stick to my resolutions and don’t use November and December as an opportunity to pile on the pounds, as many people do.  I’ll be thin in January if it kills me!  It’s my birthday in January so I’m always very reluctant to commit to hellish detox regimes … I’m going to buck the trend and do the detoxing this side of the festive season.  That would genuinely make this the year that I proved to myself that nothing is impossible!

And talking of which … good luck Obama!

Days 244 to 251 – Red Wine R.I.P? 17 October 2008

Many times in this blog I’ve talked about my love affair with red wine.  It is, by far and away, my favourite drink in the world.  I can drink it until the cows come home … well, I can drink it until my teeth are stained black, my tongue doesn’t work properly and I collapse in a heap.  I adore the stuff.  I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know my Shiraz from my Rioja and my Malbec from my Cabernet.

And the sad truth?  I can’t drink it any more.  Well, of course I can still literally drink it.  I’ve not developed some weird allergy to it (heaven forbid) but what I’ve discovered is that I can’t drink it like I used to.  This really came home to me over the weekend.  We were in York for a long weekend with some of the Boy’s university friends.  As you can imagine, there was a significant amount of drinking going on.  Now … I try to be measured these days.  I’m not the booze-swilling, chip-scoffing, snack-hoovering lunatic that I used to be.  I went away with the intention of eating as sensibly as possible (more on that in a moment) and drinking at a gracious pace rather than guzzling pint after pint with the boys.  So on the Friday night I sipped steadily at my red wine … and what happened?  I had to leave the pub early because I felt drunk and, frankly, sick.  This was not after three or four bottles of the stuff, but after three or four glasses!  Unheard of, in my world.

Sadly this isn’t the first time that this has happened to me since the diet.  I’m slowly coming to the realisation that I can only drink a fraction of what I used to be able to (a good thing) and that red wine is the one thing I really have to be careful of (a bad thing).  I know that wine is lethal for people watching their weight, not least because measures are huge and you’re pretty much drinking neat sugar, but for the first time in my adult life I’m having to make a decision led by my waistline rather than by my heart.  I guess I’ve finally grown up!  I just wish it wasn’t the wine that had to go.  It also leaves me with another problem.  What on earth do I drink when I go out?  I’ve only ever really drunk Guinness or red wine (hmmm … can you see how I got so big?!).  Am I now consigned to a life on the Gin and Slimline Tonics?

Before you think I am actually a raging alcoholic and should stop my whining, I will shortly be giving up booze altogether for another stretch.  For medical reasons a friend of mine will be stone cold sober between now and the end of December.  I’ve agreed that when I’m back from my holidays (New York in a week’s time, yay!) I’ll join him in his sobriety for a few weeks.  I never thought I’d hear myself say these words, but it wasn’t actually that bad to stay on the mineral water during the diet, and it goes without saying that the effect that alcohol has on your weight is enormous.  So I’m cutting it out again … although I have reserved the right to have a few glasses of something inappropriate at our Christmas party.  I’m not a martyr

Tonight is the long-awaited Moulin Rouge ball.  I spent an amusing half an hour last night while the Boy endeavoured to wrestle me into my corset, with reasonable success.  Unfortunately he won’t be there this evening to help me get dressed and I’m relying on a friend of mine.  I hope for both our sakes she’s feeling strong!  I also have a sneaking suspicion that after the ball the Boy will do his usual trick of falling asleep as soon as he walks through the front door and I’ll end up sleeping in the damn thing.  That could be grounds for divorce, frankly!

Thanks to all of you who emailed or posted after the last post.  I’m very flattered that some of you have used this blog as the inspiration to start lighter life or as the motivation to continue with it.  It means a lot to me, and I really want to wish all of you the best of luck.  I’m sure you’ll all be very successful indeed.

Days 230 to 243 – The End Of Management 9 October 2008

Well, this is it.  I’ve officially finished management.  I am now at liberty to eat and drink exactly what I like, when I like and, if I choose, I need never go near a food pack again.

And do you know what?  It feels really, really weird.  When I began this, back in February, I put the dates in my calendar.  I imagined some joyous day at the end of September (ish) when I would be whooping for joy and my new svelte self would be literally leaping up and down.  Well, in reality, it doesn’t quite happen like that!  I’m not saying for a moment that I’m disappointed, because this last year has been an incredible journey for me, both mentally and physically, but there is an odd sense of anti-climax, of being a bit lost after it all.  Does that make sense?  I remember talking in a post ages ago about a conversation I’d had with a friend of mine.  In her experience, people who are overweight can fall into the trap of thinking that being thin means that everything else in their life will be perfect.  Clearly that’s not true.  I feel almost as if I’ve gone to the other extreme … in a concerted attempt not to pin the ‘it will be perfect’ tag on my future life, I’m risking not allowing myself to enjoy it.  Perhaps my pessimistic side had nothing to do with being overweight and I am, in fact, just a miserable cow!

What I do feel is a colossal sense of separation from my old self.  Clearly I’m the same in my heart, or soul, or whatever you want to call it, but the person that goes about her daily business is not the one who was sat at this very computer a year ago.  I really do believe that I’ve achieved the aim I’ve stated in the ‘about’ section of this blog … after 35 years of being awkward in my own skin I am the person I think I deserve to be.  Without being too sentimental, there is a photo that I have of myself and my sister, taken when I was about eight and she was about four (forgive me if I’ve mentioned this before).  We’re standing in the back garden of my first house wearing our school uniforms, probably because she was just about to start primary school.  There were times when I couldn’t actually look at that photo because I would see my tiny, trusting little self gazing at the camera and I would feel that I’d let her down.  On occasion (usually after one red wine too many!) it actually made me cry.  When I look at that photo now, I feel overwhelmingly happy.

The oddest thing is that I haven’t achieved the weight goal that I originally set for myself.  I still think I was right to stop dieting when I did (because I didn’t want to lose any more at the speed that I was) and equally I still think I should lose some more.  I’m in a situation now where I’m not actually gaining weight (hurrah!), but I will need to make changes to my new regime in order to lose any more.  So more dieting for me!  In my darker moments I find myself thinking about a brief return to abstinence, but I think that’s the equivalent of a reformed alcoholic being tempted by ‘just one glass of fizz’ at Christmas!  I need to prove that I can manage my weight in the same way that everyone else does.

I’ve decided to keep this blog going for a while.  Not only do I enjoy writing it (despite being a bit slack recently!) but I want to share my experiences of the rocky road after lighter life.  In the first week of the diet I drove myself a little crazy reading lots of negative publicity online about how ‘you just put all the weight on afterwards’.  I’d like to prove that it’s not true. 

I’m still gym-ing, and still personal training, and that’s going well.  The recent pressures on my time have made it a little harder than it was, but I’m absolutely determined to stick with it.  And I can be very bloody-minded, I can tell you!  One of the suggestions that my trainer has made to me is that I eat six small meals a day rather than the traditional three.  Now, I’ve heard this theory before, and I understand the logic.  My biggest worry is that I’ll simply end up eating twice as much as I need to!  I have always had issues with discipline, frankly …  That said, I may well try it.

Also, in my ongoing pursuit of vanity, I’ve taken a drastic step.  When I began lighter life I had long, straggly, dark brown hair.  I’m now the proud owner of a very short, very blonde crop (well, I’ve got a long fringe, but both me and the Boy were worried that I might look like a man if I went too crazy!).  I cannot tell you how therapeutic it was to watch all that long hair falling on to the salon floor.  It was like losing the weight, and its associated baggage, all over again.

Thanks to those of you who emailed about my ball dress dilemmas.  I now have an outfit (corset and long fishtail skirt) which I’m quite optimistic about.  I’m going to see a dressmaker tonight to make sure it all fits and looks wonderful … the fact that I won’t be able to breathe, eat, drink or sneeze in the damn thing is besides the point!  The ball is in a week so I promise photographic evidence.

So … farewell to management and hello to normality!  Good lord, that was a long time coming …

Days 222 to 229 – Going Unnoticed 26 September 2008

Another long gap between posts!  This is such a busy time of year.  Before I know it, it will be Christmas, which is a scary thought.

I went to the pub the other night with my Dad to watch football and have a chat, and we had dinner there (I had salad while he had a burger … that’s how well behaved I am these days!).  We were sitting at the front of the crowd, pretty much under the TV screen, and were therefore surrounded by dozens of blokes all watching the game.  I realised that I was sitting there eating in front of all of these people, without a care in the world.  I didn’t feel uncomfortable, I didn’t feel self-conscious, I didn’t think that the blokes behind me were looking at me and thinking ‘haven’t you eaten enough, love?’.  I mentioned a while ago that I didn’t realise how damning I was being about myself, and how insidious my negative thoughts were, until they stopped being there.  That moment in the pub illustrates that perfectly.  For years and years I’ve been desperately uncomfortable about people watching me eat.  I wouldn’t say that I’m exactly over the moon about it now, to be honest, but I’m getting better.  In fact, I think I was in a vicious circle.  I hated public eating so much that I would wolf down my food as fast as possible so that nobody saw me do it.  I didn’t allow myself to eat slowly, thoughtfully and healthily.  I’ve always wanted to be able to eat and not be noticed (critically or otherwise) for doing it … now I believe that I can.

I went shopping for a ball dress last night.  The last time I went to a ball was just after I left university, which is a very long time ago indeed.  With my new-found retail confidence I went to Coast on Regent Street on a recommendation by a friend and was confronted by a wide array of beautful evening wear.  Having never bought anything there before, I took a range of sizes and styles and holed myself up in the changing room.  Now, in the past, shopping for formal wear and dresses has been a total nightmare.  I was never able to step into a dress without doing a very convincing impersonation of Mavis Cruet.  I was confident that this would no longer be the case.  And what did I discover?  Dresses that fit my bottom half like a glove haven’t a hope in hell of getting over my ribcage, whereas dresses that I can actually do up on the top sag around my bottom half like a baggy old bin liner.  So I stood there, in two hundred quid’s worth of beautiful but il-fitting dress, staring at my reflection and giggling.  Being thinner doesn’t make everything perfect, not by a long shot.  And the hunt for the dress goes on!  Any suggestions?

I’m on my way to Stockport this morning to listen to housewives talk about cleaning their toilets.  I’m not lying … that’s how glamorous my life is.  It means that I’ll be stuck in a darkened room behind a one-way mirror for several hours.  Past experience tells me that the temptation in these situations is to graze your way through crisps, snacks, biscuits and fizzy drinks purely to alleviate the boredom.  With that in mind I invested in a bag of nuts and a packet of dried mango (my new favourite treat!) on the way to the station.  I’m hoping that I have the willpower to reach for that instead of the chocolate when the discussions about removing limescale get too thrilling for words …