bellybegone’s blog

I cannot remember the last time this happened. Probably before I was married, or before I was pregnant (I never was very good at keeping track in those days as I was exceedingly opposed to measurements). It was definitely after I was discharged from hospital following a stinkingly nasty infection which rendered me wierd looking when I saw my reflection.

I could make excuses about 'wearing weight well', and being 'short of stature and big of bones' and 'quite the muscular type'. However, none of this really matters.  

Today I am not overweight. I am ideal weight in BMI world (which is rubbish and arbitrary and inaccurate.)

I will be mostly dancing around and trying on clothes today. 

Gah! Bloody, fucking children's viruses. I've had yet another which has floored me. This one is actually still going. I tried to run yesterday and immediately became drenched in a cold sweat as soon as a increased pace beyond a slow saunter.  Have decided (sagely) to not run anywhere until I've kicked this one fully. Then I'll just have to 'throw myself' at my trainers run for my life.

The 'Woo' of this jaunty tale is that the Food Focus thing has made me really focus, on what I am actually putting into my body, as opposed to, you know, not focusing (also known as ignoring and then forgetting eating them crisps and that roast potato whilst cooking etc.)

So, I lost three pounds last week. Which means I am really really below the magic X stones. That X has been glimmering on the horizon for a few years now. Sometimes I touch it, sometimes I'm well over it. Never under. Until now. Well, more accurately its been a few weeks now, but last weeks 3lbs mean that I am well under, and edging closer to W.5 stones. Lummy.

The 'Hoo' is that my bridesmaid dress technically fits. Unfortunately, the zip is faulty, so its going back, but. The dress fits. Woo and a Hoo.           

I was happily bathing in the glow of running the 5k, by not doing any exercise at all (its been over a week since I donned my runners), and then I read this and it dawned on me that I still have to run a 10k in september, and fit into the bridesmaid dress. 

So, with hubby's birthday stash I purchased Wii fit. In fairness, I have been coveting it for sometime. The lads go crackers over the balance games when they visit auntie sue, and I love the idea of a virtual personal trainer cheering me on.

So, I weigh less than I did before, but I've still a way to go. My fit age is 64 apparently, but I have almost perfect balance. How does that work?

I obviously logged onto Food Focus the millisecond after I'd read Norah's update, (and finished my mixed tandoori starter from here.

This could be my new obsession to see me through the long summer holidays. You can log all kinds of activities, including 'general childcare' and 'walking' I wonder if I can find a 'sleeping' section. However, I am only allowed about 500 calories a day (ok double it) That means I'll have to do loads of childcare and walking if I am to sustain my appetite.  

Tomorrow, I begin the 5-10 k training schedule. I am scared. I know that fit people out there will belly laugh at a mere 6 miles, but to me its quite a long way. Especially because I dislike running.

What I do like, are these little babies. Perfect for nutrition brownie points in a hurry.

So, I'm off to do a little Mii exercise with my youngest before we 'walk' to collect the older one from school.

Love you Nor, and mega props for running in 40 degree heat. I can't even sunbathe when its that hot.  

Am on the wagon until the run, which is a week on sunday. I also have an assignment to write, which is due on the 11th and for some reason I am really struggling to concentrate on two things at once. Maybe its PMT  Anyway, Yesterday, I went for a run. Managed about 3k again, and could feel the right lung gungking and struggling which isn't great. I  then met up with some of my colleagues from college and had one or seven G&Ts, smoked some fags, (I haven't done that in weeks, or months or something. It was wierdly enjoyable) ate pork scratchings and had fish from the chip shop for my tea, and fell asleep on the sofa.

Today, in an attempt to clear the the gunk and the liver, and reinvigorate my body and count down to the race I am detoxing and stuffing my body full of antioxidants and vitamins and minerals and calcium and whatnot. I've gone juice-tastic. If the chest doesn't clear by monday, I'll have to resort to antibiotics if I'm gonna be race fit by the 7th.

The detox has been recommended by a naturopath and dietician to boost my immune system. It involves fasting for the first day. Well, fasting in that there's no solid food only raw juice, water and green tea and some live yoghurt. I'm not very good at it, but its already 5.10 and I'm still alive. Tomorrow is about stuffing my face with as much raw and cooked varied veg as is humanly possible without bursting or vomiting. Thank goodness I'm on a course.

I'll keep you posted as to whether I am bright eyed and bushy tailed or ravenous and grumpy. I suspect the latter....    

Its fair to say, I have not run very far over the last week. In truth I've done two runs, one of 30 minutes. Another this morning, 12 minutes. My legs couldn't make it, but that could be due to the gruelling Davina sweat-a-thon I endured last night. And the weekend long work training which really took it out of me.
I am shattered, however feeling pretty pleased with myself as I am back to my normal-ish weight (which is still a tad over where I should technically be) but feeling a bit firmer and more confident in my skin.
I would really like legs that I feel I can expose (hence the misery making trillions of squats gurning Davina encouraged me to do last night) before I am 70 and it might be considered a bit uncouth. (Yes, thats right, I think its ok to wear a mini skirt until you are 70, if you've got the pins to flaunt. Hell, make it 100)
I was brought up to believe you can show either tit or leg, but never both. (I don't know about one tit and one leg?) I no longer have any breast tissue to speak of, just empty sacks where once were little bouncy puppies, but I do still technically have legs.
To encourage me to sculpt those leggies, I want these boots- hard. 

lovely

7lbs. SEVEN. I lost seven pounds. Thats a lot of water. Tra lala

x

Despite eating healthily (shhhh about the boozahol) I discovered I had gained a whopping great half a stone in about a week or something ridiculous. I cannot get my rings on, my shoes are too tight and my head looks like its been inflated.

I am so terribly sensible at present, I don't overeat. I don't eat three easter eggs in a row, whilst main lining fullfat coke (yes, Jimi, I'm talking to you), and now I'm off the tiger bread (the very occasional wholmeal slice is working out so much better for me bowels) I'm terribly virtuous.  (shhh, bloody gallons of booze don't count if they're between meals*), Except for the high fat and salt shenanigins, clogging my organs and arteries. (I love salt, me). And all the running and that, so why oh why the inflatable-ness.

Obviously, because I need something to distract me from a. Essay writing, b. Cleaning, and C. My empty (ish) nest, so I have spent the last week mithering about my collapsing liver and kidney function. Operation, water-retention has kicked in.

Monday saw me drinking enough water to sink a particularly large ship, and spending the majority of the day on the bog, yesterday was the same, but without any added salt, or cured meats. Misery me. Oh, and I forgot to mention, no alcohol. None, nowt. Ziperama. No drinkles, not even a snifter. Just water, water, green tea, water, grapefruit juice and the occasional black as night coffee.

And some of that milk thistle stuff, and some lovely multi vitamins. 

I have no end date for this behaviour, other than when my arms and legs are like tooth picks. Or until I can get my rings on. The good news is that my feet are returning to their normal size and my head is less inflated, so hopefully its working.   

No gin+ crazy kids, headblowing essays and annoying husbands makes me want valium, or a desert island. My running partner said; 

"So, you want valium. What will you use to get off the sedatives minks?'

"Gin n Slim"

"Ahhh, you're stereotypical functioning drug and alcohol abusing mother. Just like generations before us"

"........"

And if this doesn't work? Well shiver me timbers, I'll blame me genes, and carry on.

* You are probably already aware of my guilty relationship with booze. This is not to say I drink excessively all the time. I do however, spend a lot of time worrying about alcohol. Probably disproportionately. So, is it worth the turmoil? Hell yeah (?)        

As you were.....         

I've been so good, with the not eating bread, and eating when I'm hungry and running regularly and doing exercises and whatnot.

Ok, ok, so I am more toned, and I can feel the muscles underneath the layer coming back to life, so I have gained muscle, but not lost any fat. I know this to be true because my boobies are the same size, and my boobies are always the first to go.

Still, I'm not giving up, because I love feeling fit. Love love love. Never let me sit around for weeks on end when I could be running and jumping around and feeling better.

My bread addiction was getting out of control. Since Paul Mck told me to eat what I wanted when I wanted, I did, and what I wanted was everything between two slices of bread. Or on toast. I was scoffing sangers like a woman possessed and getting a bit shaky and hysterical between meals. I was also experiencing some discomfort and well, I'll just say it, diarrhoea. 

So, I thought I'd try and remove some stuff from my diet to see what happened. (I'd already cranked up the probiotics and fibre to no avail.) First bread, and the second was to be booze, but thank goodness, I think that bread is the culprit. Things have settled down (solidified) and I'm less shaky, and less bloated, so, whilst I'm not running round claiming to be intolerant, I might see where abstinence takes me.

Thankfully, lentils and potatoes luscious fresh veggies still feature and so I'm not entirely carb free (no more fadding for me, I've learnt that lesson). I also need the fuel to drive my little running legs.

We're now running well on with our training schedule and on sunday completed 5k comfortably. 

I can't quite understand why my biceps are hurting, and can only assume that pumping my flabby batwings takes some serious strength. And my gluts are sore, but it makes a change from my .....        

Well, the run did. It went startlingly well for me. I was comfortable and relaxed once I got into my stride. The bride had an asthma attack and had to stop, and admit that an inhaler might be advantageous on these jaunts. The bridesmaid struggled towards the end, but we completed the run together.

The food was outrageous. I ate a sausage sanger (last one for a while. Goodbye sausages, for now. I will always love you), wrote 1000 or so words and then scoffed a roast dinner, a bottle of wine, a slab of cheesecake and some crisps. I felt really sick after, which was kind of what I was going for, and still felt sick this morning.

Today, so far, I've had two coffees, a can of zero cola, and I've just ploughed through an avocado, tomato, mushroom, spinach and low fat cottage cheese medley. It was actually bloody lipsmackeringly yummy, aided by the mixed herbs I threw in there. I think I ate it too fast though, because now, as I type I can feel my stomach groaning under the volume of food. It really is a knack reducing your stomach size, and still eating eniough fat to gain weight. I've no idea how I managed it, but manage I have. I am now struggling to get through an alleged adequate portion of healthy nosh. On reflection, this is probably a good thing.

My aim is to get some more writing done this afternoon, whilst the younger snoozes, then after parents evening (gah!) convince my husband to ignore me as I Yogalate the night away. I'm banking on two volatile factors. A sleeper, and an overachiever.

The big drive toward health and fitness is now about trying on bridesmaid dresses in two weeks. I aim to be a whole stone lighter*. I have discovered that, whilst my girth remains the same, it is more wobbly. The scary bit is that my hips and arse have expanded beyond all reasonable proportions. If its anything to do with gravity, then I shall be walking around on my hands much more from now on.  

Ooooof, must lie down, obviously purely to assist child in getting to sleep.

Stomach. Straining.  

*unlikely.