I am in shock. I don’t do running, on account of my arthritic knees, my dodgy hips, my unstable back and my massive norks. Haven’t run for years. When I say run, I really mean shuffle. As in slightly more than a walk, but it would be a stretch to call it a run. Even a mere shuffle results in my tits swinging wildly about, despite being practically bandaged to my rib cage.
What brought this about? Well… by chance I watched a programme called Mind Over Marathon last night, which is about a group of people suffering from mental health problems, grief, depression etc, etc. And it’s about them training, as a group, for the London Marathon, which is this weekend. I was so moved by their stories. These are people who in some cases haven’t set foot outside their house for years, or who suffer such crippling depression that to walk, never mind run, is a major feat. I cried throughout the programme, as I suspect most people who watched it did. I suddenly found myself wanting to join them, but thought no more about it. I am 56 FFS! My running days are definitely over, although I think I could count the number of times I’ve been running in my life on the fingers of two hands so you could argue they’d never actually begun.
In an effort to communicate with my 23 year old (going on 15) son I agreed to play racquetball with him this afternoon. I haven’t played for ages. I enjoyed it. (He needs the exercise, he has cystic fibrosis). We drove home and I thought, I have my trainers on, I have my joggers on, my tits are already hoisted into a highly engineered steel structure (I might be joking about the steel bit) so if I’m ever going to try a bit of a run again before I die THIS IS MY MOMENT.
So, slightly in shock at my own daring, I grabbed my iPod and started jogging! I bloody did it! Ok it was mostly a walk, but I really did jog a little bit too. And it was bloody brilliant. Will I ever go again? Maybe. Who knows, it might encourage the scales to shift a bit.
…Even if it’s only 0.4 of a kilo. Huh. I was honestly expecting a little more encouragement from the scales than that! Maybe the wine has started to creep in a bit… I have now lost nearly 19lbs which actually is pretty good now I think about it. I’ve just googled what this amount of fat looks like and 20lbs looks like this.
Ugh! It’s good to know that is gone from my lardy middle. Plenty more where that came from though, unfortunately.
Yesterday I had..
Br: muesli mix
Lunch: crunchy salad with chorizo, bacon, french dressing.
Supper: pork steak in lemon and rosemary, salad, french dressing.
I walked very hastily around Pendennis Head yesterday as my son was cooking and I was running late. I cut through Princess Pavilions to get home a bit quicker and the daffodils and the blue sea lifted my spirits and I didn’t care anymore that I’d ‘only’ lost 0.4kg this week. I live in a fantastic place, my son was cooking tea (and I never ever take his health and ability to do that for granted) AND we’d just booked a holiday to Vietnam for the autumn. Another reason to be slimmer and I seriously hope my partner loses some weight beforehand because otherwise it’ll be a bit of a squash sitting next to him on the plane. And it’s a loooooong flight.
Let’s face it, dieting is actually really easy if you’re motivated enough. If someone offered you a million pounds if you lost 4 stones in 6 months you’d do it, wouldn’t you? Well, unless you’re already very rich and slim. I’ve always said this – it’s not the dieting that’s hard, it’s keeping your head in the right place for long enough to make a noticeable difference that’s the problem.
So where’s my motivation been the past few years? Why have I got fatter and fatter and not done anything about it? Well it’s not been for a lack of trying. I do think I’m finding it easier now that my thyroid meds are stable. Before I would cut down and cut down but never lose that much, so I just gave up after a few weeks. And the cycle would continue.
This time, weirdly, I am losing weight, and losing weight fairly consistently. (Though I’ve only been doing this 4 weeks, so not really long enough to tell just how consistently). But I am also definitely more motivated than before.
For a start my beloved partner is really, really overweight. Morbidly obese. He was when I met him and we developed our friendship through walking. He knew I didn’t fancy him so he lost weight because he wanted to be with me. Aaah! However…. a major house renovation, moving to a new town, worries over my son’s health and the both of us have turned to food for comfort. My partner is now back up to the weight he was when I first met him and I am actually a couple of stones heavier than I was then.
It is not wanting my partner to die that has really motivated me this time. He is a bit of a secret eater and struggles with denying his greed far less well than I do. He has no stop button. Like me he doesn’t eat crap food – he doesn’t like puddings or beer for example – but he eats far too much of everything else.
After 8 years together I realised he was never going to lose weight for as long as I remained fat too. Fair enough! And he shocked me a couple of months ago when he revealed that he thought of me as being as fat as him. I was completely shocked because a) I hadn’t realised he saw me as that big, (and crikey maybe I was and was in denial), and b) it showed me that he thought of himself as far slimmer than he actually is. He has body dysmorphia. (For the record my BMI is about 32 and his is about 41 so in my eyes a big difference!)
So to encourage my partner to lose weight I was going to have to lose mine too. So here I am. I lost another 2.4lbs this week, making 11lbs in total and my partner has now lost 12lbs altogether. Yay! He is already asking me if he’s lost enough yet… He has about 6 stones to go…