Botticelli, George Burns and the Cupcake That Was.

Gwash!  Two weeks since my last post and what has happened?  Not a lot, to be honest.  But update you I shall! The first week following weigh in was ridiculously uneventful.  I trained. I ate. I trained. I slept. I trained.  I also decided that Divine is not my favourite person anymore.  He has upped the cardio portion of training big time, and is now all about "burn, burn, burn"! So burning, sweating and burning some more were the flavour of the past two weeks.  The weekend following weigh-in involved nothing.  Zilch.  Not a jump was jumped, not a squat was squatted, not a lunge was lunged and most of all not a skip was skup (yeah I know it's not a real word, but too bad). ;)

I got into a very interesting conversation with Olwethu, one of my colleagues.  She is a beautiful black woman with voluptuous curves and a proudly African bum, who does not subscribe to the whole skinny thing that white woman generally aspire to.  According to her culture, a woman with lovely curves and a good round bum is what is considered desirable.  I like that belief.  Botticelli, too, celebrated curves on a woman - and was not at all keen on painting emaciated sacks of skin and bones.  Give that man a Bell's, I say!  One can't, after all, be blessed with everything in life- that would just be wrong!

Having said all that, I still ate fruit salad, rice cakes and steamed veggies through the week because although it is extremely unlikely that I will end up being a skinny malinky, being a fatty is no longer an option either!

Last Friday was pretty encouraging because not only was I stopped mid-skip (skup) and told by a fellow gym-goer that she could really see the difference in my figure, but another gym regular commented, mid-crunch (me, not him), that I was looking much more "streamlined" (which of course is polite for "less fat"!).

This past week has been pretty good.  I have even decided to forgive Divine for almost killing me over the past two weeks!  I do have to own up to the fact that I have become somewhat obsessed.  Following the birth of each of my kids, months passed where I literally could only speak about sleeping habits, formula, baby shit, rashes and the like.  This seems to have happened again.  I can have long, in-depth conversations about detox, eating plans, training sessions, skipping, Divine, this blog, my butt, my tummy, all my measurements, the whole shoot shebang, but I have no clue what else is happening in the world or even my city!  I truly need to make a plan!  I can practically feel the eyes rolling when I start talking!  And to make matters worse, on Wednesday (which is my off day from gym) I went to gym - upping my training to 5 days a week.  It's difficult though. I  am very focused on my goal, on getting to the point where I feel confident about my shape - but, as with everything and as we all know, there has to be a healthy balance. (I am a Libran after all).  Oh well.

On Thursday we started boxing.  I wont lie - I thought it was going to be hard and shitty and that it would give me reams of worthwhile material for the blog. Such. Much. Fun. It was brilliant!  No session has flown past as quickly.  I actually enjoyed the skipping (even though Mr Volontiya sneakily tricked me into skipping for longer than I had planned).  I jabbed, did curl punch thingies (highly technical term) and hurled out a gazillion upper cuts.  We then put them all together in hectic combos and bounced, and jumped, and smacked the hell out of the bag (and Divine's hands).  I was completely soaked afterwards, the balls of my feet were on fire and my fingers cramping but the exhilaration and energy levels carried through for most of the day.  Flipping great! I reckon it is also a super therapeutic exercise - punching your way through all your frustrations and irritations. Until it wasn't so much fun anymore.  Late on Thursday afternoon everything kind of got tight and creaky.  Holy shitole!  My ankles, my wrists, my "wings", even my elbows for heaven's sake - all aching and stiff!  Bloody boxing is deceptive.  You think you've nailed it, strutting around with moves like Jagger, until mere hours later your entire body seizes up and you have moves like George Burns!

Friday was a brilliant day.  I put myself through a hectic cardio session, saw a beautifully inspiring show in the morning (twice) which made me sob (twice) and I ate a cupcake.  Yip.  Afraid so.  I had a cupcake.  And even worse - I enjoyed it. Every last delicious crumb. And no, this was not instead of lunch - this was AS WELL AS lunch!  :)

The Evidence

With a week to go before we weigh in, I am not feeling hugely confident regarding actual weight loss, I must be honest.  I think that we might have some changes in measurement but I feel as though I have pretty much stayed the same weight and whatnot as I was at the previous weigh-in . Clearly  I hope this isn't the case because we have been working really, really hard - but I know that there will be some weeks when no changes take place.  At all.  I am not relishing this experience though.

Divine seems to have some sort of an issue with Mondays. I think he figures that everyone goes completely off program over the weekend and binges (not entirely untrue sometimes) and therefore approaches every Monday in punisher mode - and today was no exception.  However this morning he trained alongside me through some of the really shitty stuff, which was brilliant and it became almost a matter of pride for me to keep up! I know I go on a bit sometimes about Divine and how good he is, but he really, really is amazing.  I wish everyone had a Divine. Truly.  He is always cheerful, is focussed 100% on you during your session (as opposed to some of the other trainers I have seen who either eat breakfast or play on their phones when their clients train!), he is able to see right through my bullshit and know when I am just being lazy or when I really can't go anymore, he constantly praises and encourages and I really think this is a calling for him.  Every session is an achievement, every kilo or centimetre lost is personal. Enough said!

And to end off this blog I thought I would share two more pics with you.  Just to put them into perspective - the shirt I am wearing is one which you are supposed to twist and tie into a knot and wear all crinkly.  A few months ago I used to iron the shirt to make it bigger so that it would fit. I know right?!  Now it is quite roomy!  And the jeans - well this is actually kind of bittersweet.  My favourite pair of Levi's really should be packed away in my fat box by now, but I am not quite ready! In the meantime I will scrunch and fold them up at the waist and use a belt to keep them from falling off.  Not the most flattering way to wear them, but did I mention that they are my favourite pair?

Divine reckons he can put together a 7 or 10 second kick arse video of one of our boxing sessions.  In the spirit of partnership and whatnot I have agreed that, if next Monday's weigh in is not a huge disappointment, we can film on the Tuesday.  Let's wait and see.

And that, my beautiful feathered friends, is all I have for you for now.  Once again, thank you so very, very much for the brilliant support.  I am so very blessed.  As at posting this morning, there have been 600 views of the blog. What?  Insane!
T
x

The "Coming Out" Session, The Nachos and The Rollercoaster Ride

Another week, another update.  Another opportunity to over-share (the real reason people blog in the first place, let's be honest!).  The past week was fairly uneventful, with more of the same - I am not going to bore you to tears with the details of every squat, every lunge, every drop of sweat - I will rather, in the interests of keeping this marginally interesting, share only the highlight reel!

On Friday I took the day off, with the intention of doing some gym, having a facial and spending time with the kids before they went back to school.  In this vein I took the kids to gym with me.  Chloe headed off to swim, but Damon wanted to train with me.  Divine was more than happy to have Damon along and put us through an upper body workout of note.  I am delighted to say that I completely out-gymed my 15 year old!  BOOM! He now knows first hand that his mom is hardcore!!   

Friday night we went to DecoDance in Sea Point to celebrate Steve and Etienne's birthdays!  A ridiculous amount of fun was had, a stupendous amount of alcohol was consumed and we danced until 3AM! It was bloody brilliant!  What relevance does this outing have to the blog? Well it was a "coming out" session of sorts for me - the first time I had been out partying with my friends since starting this journey.  I squeezed myself into a pair of super, super tight skinny jeans with high heeled boots. And the funniest thing happened.  You know how when someone is preggers, everyone feels it's their right - an obligation almost - and not at all inappropriate, to rub and touch the baby bump?  Well apparently the same is true if you loose some weight!  I have never, ever had my arse grabbed and rubbed so many times - and by such an array of people!  And whilst I should probably say that this offended my sensibilities, it really didn't! What better validation that the hard work is starting to pay off!

Saturday (mid) morning arrived and, ever so slightly overly hung, I had an intense yearning for nachos.  Spur nachos.  Yes, it's off program.  No, not one shit was given!  Off we headed to Spur - me dragging my aching head and mangled feet (I am convinced that dancing in high heeled boots until 3 has damaged my big toe to such an extent it may end up toenail-less).  But boy, the nachos were yummy!  Every single calorie. Every single nacho. Every single evil bite was bliss! Until it wasn't anymore.  Aside from the fact that my tummy got a tad grumpy, I became overwhelmed with guilt! Not only did I consume at least my body weight in alcohol and sugar the previous night, but I had topped it off with nachos!! And it's weigh-in on Monday! EEEEK!  When we got home I decided to alleviate some of the guilt and Chloe and I had ourselves a skipping / squat session!  500 skips and 80 squats. :)  I then proceeded to spend the rest of Saturday, and a good chunk of Sunday doing sweet bugger all!   

Monday appeared - far too soon - and it was time to face reality. Remember that the first weigh-in session followed a very strict 21 day detox.  This was now 21 days of eating more or less like a regular person.  Before I go through the results let me tell you that I only wanted to share the two good ones with you.  It was Divine who convinced me to share it all.  He said, and it makes sense I guess, that it serves absolutely no purpose if everyone thinks this is a walk in the park, and that all I do is lose, lose, lose.  That is comes easily and there are no hurdles or rollercoaster rides.  So, having said that, here are the results (I am giving you total results from day 1 to now, as opposed to the results from the last measure/weigh in session): 

Weight:  - 9.9kg (yip! So chuffed.  The first time I met Divine I told him my goal was 10kg.  No, he said, your goal is 15kg.  But, having said that, I am a mere 100grams from my initial goal!).

Chest: - 6.7cm (only 1 cm more than last time, but in an attempt to alleviate my diminishing bra-filling-capacity, we have been working on the upper body quite a lot!)

Upper arm: - 1.5cm (only .3cm more than before, but I have to say that the wings no longer flap quite as much as they used to!)

Waist: - 15.8cm. Allow me to repeat (and wallow) in that figure:  minus 15.8cm!! Nuff. Said. 

Thigh:  First measured loss was 5.6cm. Unfortunately today we added 1 cm - making it a total loss of 4.6cm. It's fine..... Ok, it's not.  But I know that in reality my thighs have literally changed shape - they are definitely slimmer, firmer, and are much more shapely. So bugger it. Moving on. 

Hips: Now this is a tough one.  The very first time (pre-detox) that my bum and hips were measured, a figure was given.  The next time we measured (post-detox), the figure had remained the same.  And today, this too only showed a 0.2cm loss. The difficulty I have when dealing with this figure is that I know for a fact that my bum and hips have shrunk dramatically!  Clothes which, only 2 months ago, I could not get over my hips, or zipped up all the way, now literally fall off! I cannot explain the figures. So I will choose to ignore them. 

Bottom (pffft) line this is what I am going to celebrate having achieved thus far: 

2 x 2.3 = 4.6kg

2 x 1.6kg = 3.2kg

2.1kg 

So I have lost two puppies, two bunny rabbits and a crayfish. I am going to take this achievement with both hands, a wide smile and celebrate!  

T

x

The Shin Splints, The Mousse and The Beautiful Wine

This week has been immensely uneventful and this post will, as a result, be short!  I have nothing of any real interest to share with you - funny or otherwise.  I am not allowed to weigh myself.  I am eating the same ole same ole.  I am getting up in the freezing bloody dark each morning to go to gym, and Divine is making sure I am always on my toes at training - literally!  Imagine this for a second, if you will:  Thursday morning's training session included spider walks.  I "walked" from one end of the aerobics studio on my hands and toes, in a forward squat-like stance - of course with the arse waiving around in the air - and then backwards to the start point. Co-ordination is required, especially for the reversing section of this exercise - something which I am sorely lacking!  I think if Divine wasn't such a gentleman, he would have been rolling around laughing hysterically!  He did cough a few times (I am sure he was politely hiding his laughter)!!   On the upside, Thursday was so icy cold that the gym was effectively deserted!  Whew!

One crappy thing which happened last week is that I managed to develop shin splint(s) (??) in my left leg.  It is hellishly painful, I have to tell you.  I have been training through the pain, and it seems that I am mostly ok, but first thing in the morning, and then of course later in the evenings, it becomes pretty bad.  So I googled it:

"... the primary culprit causing shin splits is a sudden increase in distance or intensity of a workout schedule.  This increase in muscle work can be associated with inflammation of the lower leg muscles, those muscles used in lifting the foot ....".

The suggested solution to this problem is to rest the leg for two weeks, along with halving your training intensity - neither of which are options at the moment.  So I have to suck it up and work through it - I will not lose my momentum now damnit!

Knowing full well that it was going to be a weekend of over-indulgence, I trained like the devil was on my arse on Friday - skipping, sit ups and spinning.  And it was a good thing too!  On Friday night I went to a ladies night dinner at a friend's house and, although I didn't eat the potato bake or the beautiful bread, I did have the chicken skin (instead of politely pushing it to the side) and, when presented with a chocolate mousse topped with cream and strawberries, had no choice but to eat it - it would have been rude to refuse!! We won't even talk about the necessary wine consumption which accompanied the evening!

Saturday was almost as sinful - I met two exceptional ladies for lunch - and proceeded to eat and drink and be merry!  What is a girl to do when presented with an opportunity to spend time with friends?  Drink water and chew on a spinach leaf.  I think not!!

Today I made the horrid mistake of confessing my sins to Divine!  Holy crapola!! He decided to put me through something called a fitness test - I won't list all the shit he made me do but suffice it to say that it was torturous and left me shattered.  I reckon I scored around 66% (managing to do two sets of the blasted session), which in my opinion is not too shabby!  A month ago I doubt I would have been able to do even one complete set!  But baby, that chocolate mousse, wine and chicken skin has now been burnt into oblivion!!  Boom!

Next Monday is weigh-in day - making me somewhat nervous.  And tomorrow is Steve's birthday - cannot be eating salad on a birthday, blegh - and we are celebrating the festive occasion this Friday night!  So yes, I am worried about Monday. But, as the Ever Wise Di Terry has said to me a number of times, this has to be sustainable otherwise it will never work.  So this week I will mostly behave, and this weekend I won't.  Simple as that!

Ok! I started this post saying that I had nothing really to say.  Oh well!
T

Post-detox indulgence, and the repercussions!

Well the first week of post-detox has been interesting indeed!  Monday's menu was pretty much the same as detox, except that supper was extra lean cottage pie with sweet potato mash and steamed veggies.  It was amazing!!  However, my tummy did not agree! I tossed and turned all night, cramping and aching.  It's quite astonishing how your body lets you know when it's not pleased with you.  Red meat is, apparently, not my friend!

Tuesday's training session was intense.  Divine has definitely stepped up my workouts.  No more Mr Nice Guy!  I also hit a bit of a snag mid-morning on Tuesday.  My vision, particularly in my left eye, started blurring and jumping around, my peripheral vision disappeared altogether and my head started pounding.  Over-dramatic woman that I am, my immediate thought (and that of our office manager) was a stroke! (:s) I left work early and by the time I got home my vision had mostly cleared up but there was a very loud, very crappy dubstep track looping in my head!  So the question is - was this headache a result of the meat I had eaten the night before, or from the intake of food other than what was prescribed during detox, or just a general headache?  Who knows - guess we will have to see what happens through the next week or so.

For dinner on Tuesday we had a tiny potion of chicken, a spoonful (literally) of brown rice and loads of veggies.  I have to tell you that by 9 o'clock I was ready to take a bit out of one of the cats!  To avoid animal  cruelty, I hauled my ass off to bed.

Wednesday was my gym off day - thank heavens!  My body was aching from the previous two days' intense sessions - I have never, ever worked so hard at gym before!  Meals pretty much followed the same pattern as before, but I decided to live it up a bit for lunch, daredevil that I am, and had Ryvita with fat free cottage cheese, tomato and cucumber!  And it was awesome!!!

Thursday saw me back in Divine's clutches!  Oh and by the way, I am now the proud owner of a custom-made skipping rope from hell!! It is nothing like a regular speed skipping rope - it is a thick, industrial looking thing which is quite heavy, but once you get into rhythm you can almost feel the fat falling off! So as much as I detest skipping (and I really, really do), I know that it is also going to be my ultimate weight loss and fitness champion exercise.  Currently I am pretty rotten at it. Thursday's training involved skipping and ab work, but Divine also introduced me to a buggering thing called explosives.  They are not as bad as the deaded burpies (burpees? whatever) but they still suck arse. Sometimes (not often, because quite frankly I don't give much of a toss, but sometimes) I wonder, as I am performing these ridiculous maneouvres, what the other people at the gym must think.  Picture this: there I am, bending over a long step balanced on two piles of small steps, waving my arse in the air and bouncing around like an idiot.  Occasionally, a long, loud line of expletives explodes from my mouth, and other times (when I can't even speak cos I'm so breathless) I just make loud grunting and panting noises!  Kind of like a pissed off panda!

Thursday night I managed to completely screw up supper.  We ended up with soggy floppy butternut and sweet potato chips, over-steamed veggies and bleak, tastleless smooshy fish.  Sigh .... I don't know if I've mentioned that I really hate cooking?  But in case I haven't yet  .... I really, really hate cooking.

On Friday, and knowing we had a dinner reservation at Bloemendal that night, I went all out at gym.  I managed 400 skips (which, FYI, is 800 jumps).  Ok, to be completely honest, I did a set of 50 skips, went full blast on the spinning bike for one song, did 50 skips, spinning bike, skips - you get the picture.  By the time we got to Bloemendal for dinner, and two tequilas later, I was totally ready for real food!  I am afraid, however, that I pissed myself off completely by not having any starch, only having small tastes of some of the food and even leaving roast lamb on my plate! I shit you not!  I did, however, manage to drink half a bottle of bubbly, no problem! :)

Saturday was a day of vegetation - me, not the garden - and involved absolutely bugger all that could possibly be called strenuous! On Sunday I started the morning off with 110 skips (it was Sunday, give me a break) and then we headed off to Ratanga!  What a jol!  I totally behaved myself and only drank half of Steve's beer (twice) and even ate a frikking chicken salad for lunch!  Ok and I had a bit of tomato bredie for supper - one of the few things I can cook well, and I could hardly let it go to waste, now could I.  I truly did only have a little bit though!

On Monday the lack of fruit, veg and too much meat definitely caught up with me. I was sluggish, miserable, tired, tetchy and just plain full of shit.  Luckily Divine doesn't give too much of a toss about my mood and ploughs on regardless.  And boy did he plough!  We managed three entire sets of abs and arse work!  We even managed to fit in a "photo shoot"!  Everyone, meet Divine!

Divine told me today that I am not allowed to weigh myself until our official measure and weigh in session in two weeks' time.  He reckons that we are not going to be reducing our weight loss totals to only about 2kg or so over a 3 week period, and that I may become depressed or despondent if I weigh myself too often.  Too late!! Sob ....

I have to say that this is no longer as much fun as it was initially.  While I am clearly loving the difference in body shape, I am bored to distraction trying to figure out healthy meals, I hate cooking (did I mention this?) and this morning I had an intense desire to stab my grapefruit repeatedly until it exploded.  I have got to find a way to renew my enthusiam. Soon.  Otherwise apathy and disinterest could lead me down the road to hell .....
T

The Bitch, The Burpies and the Bunny Rabbit

Two incredible things happened on Tuesday. Let me start by mentioning that my family have been really amazing through this - dealing with bitchiness and boring meals, listening to me harp on endlessly about every single gram I lose, every aching muscle, every millimetre of loosening in the clothes - and they do this with only the occasional quiet sigh!  There I was, on Tuesday evening, busily chopping fruit and veggies and stuff, when Damon randomly turned to me and said, "I am really proud of you. With this detox.  Really proud".  Gosh!  I cannot even begin to tell you what this meant to me!  And later (cos clearly this wasn't enough validation) I was discussing Chloe's Afrikaans exam with her which she had written that day - and she mentioned, in passing and just by the way, that the topic had been someone who inspires her, and had written about me!  WHAT? Insane!  Trying to lower my huge head onto my pillow that night caused some serious neck ache! :)

The rest of the week was pretty much the same of the same - rice cakes, fish, fruit, Divine, sweat and pain.  With a few notable exceptions.  On Wednesday, when I got home from work, I took off my belt and could literally pull my jeans off without unzipping them!  Progress!  And on Thursday morning Divine decided I was strong enough for burpies.  Let me tell you - no one is EVER ready for burpies.  Holy shit! 20 of the fuckers in a row. And let me just say here - if you are questioning the use of profanity, you have never done a burpie. End. Of. Story.

With the official end of detox mere days away, and weigh in and measuring looming, I was very strict and didn't even think about cheating!  Luckily exams are finished and schools closed on Friday so stress levels were greatly reduced.  The weekend passed quietly comprising of an awesome win for Damon's soccer team, watching an entire season of Spartacus, sleeping, staying warm and eating popcorn.

And Monday arrived.  Day 22.  Or Day 1 if you wish. End of detox.  Time to face reality.  Divine was there - waiting!  He actually seemed more nervous than me!  Of course my achievements - or possible lack thereof - would also be in part be a reflection on his ability to kick my arse. #challengeaccepted

Here are the figures:
Weight loss: - 6.2kg (not the 7kg I was hoping for, but not far off)
Chest: -5.7cm (this was made up mostly of back wobble I reckon, since I don't have much "chest" to speak of!!)
Upper arm: -1.2cm
Waist: -4.7cm (yeah baby)
Thigh: a whopping loss of 5.6cm (on one thigh, please note - not collectively on both!!!)
Calf: -0.3cm (I have pretty good calves so this figure did not phase me in the least).

2 x 2.3kg puppies = 4.6kg!

PLUS

This bunny weighs 1.6kg!

So I have lost two puppies and a bunny rabbit!  Not too shabby for 3 weeks right? And then I naively believed that Divine would take it easy on me this morning - kind of as a reward for my hard work.  Pffft - not a chance!  Toughest workout yet.  Because now comes the really hard work. Makes me nervous, I won't lie.  Things have gone really, really well and I have survived detox without once cheating - something i never thought possible, especially on days 5 to 8!  The weight loss has been phenomenal, I feel great, I am getting noticeably fitter and stronger.  But I am now faced with the reality that things are going to slow down dramatically.  I can start eating again like a regular person - some carbs, red meat, chicken and - wooohoooo - booze! But I am going to have to give 200% more than what I have been giving so far. Both in terms of exercise and eating wisely.  And size does matter - of the portions at any rate!  I am almost inclined to continue on the detox diet until reaching my goal weight - what is preventing this, however, is the fact that I am absolutely completely and utterly over steamed fish, and don't even mention the buggering rice cakes! And mommy needs a glass of wine!

In the words of the inimitable Florence and the Machine: The Dog Days are Over!
T

Pacman, two puppies and a tablet

Ok so I am (more or less) over the drama and self-pity which flounced around last Monday.  Gosh it was not a good day at all!  I got many hugs and no potatoes – so all in all a victory I reckon!  ‘Nuff said about last Monday.

Tuesday arrived and I decided to stop beating myself up. I went back to gym determined to prove I wasn’t a bloody sissy and ended up having an amazing session with Divine.  Yeah, it included the dreading skipping, but less of it.  Loads of abs, some running, squats, lunges – you know, the good stuff!  Feeling  mighty pleased with myself I decided to push my luck and hop on the scale.  Reasonably good news followed – but I will expand on that after the official Friday weigh in.

So in a much better frame of mind, and somewhat re-motivated, I headed out into the world to deal with the day.  And a good day it was.  Had no problems getting through the dreaded rice cakes, found that I am actually starting to enjoy the detox tea (true story) and made a divine (haha) salad for supper.   I even managed to help my daughter study for History and Afrikaans without even once reducing her to tears!  Boom! 

The one thing both Steve and I are both battling with, however, is the cold.  It is damn icy at the moment and – what a shock - eating cold, raw food is not conducive to countering the chill. Neither is not being able to have a cup of hot chocolate or a glass of wine to warm the inside bits.  I’ve been told that the lack of carbs means my body has no fuel to burn and is feeling the cold more – dude, not true, my body has much fuel:  two butt cheeks and a tummy to start! Burn baby, burn!  Our long-suffering Financial Manager (who also, bless her soul, shares an office with me) suggested that I should imagine, when feeling hunger pains or discomfort from the detox, that the pacman dude is munching on my fat stores! Epic!

Damon brought the dreaded ‘flu virus into the house last week and managed to infect Chloé pretty damn rapidly.  Needless to say, on Tuesday my throat started complaining and my nose leaking (dead sexy stuff this)!  

Wednesday was a gym off day and I did my best to beat the germs into submission.  Training unfortunately couldn’t happen on Thursday or Friday (sob ……).  This also means that weigh in will take place on Monday (gulp).  Quite sad actually because I had built up a really good momentum with training and detoxing and wanted to keep on.

Saturday was interesting because Chloé had a karate tournament and there I arrived, armed with a cooler bag filled with rice cakes, fruit salad, a hot water flask and cupasoup!!  Even though I was surrounded by people munching on curry and toasted sandwiches, I maintained like a frikking pro!

Sunday however was really rough.  Father’s Day.  We had a braai – which of necessary involved the delicious aromas of red meat and garlic bread sizzling over the coals.  So, so hard!  It didn’t help that I had some smoked angel fish to put in the salad for Steve and I but when I opened it, the smell almost knocked me out!  Vrot angel fish!  Great for the mood, let me tell you!  I ended up having a cupasoup and munching on some beetroot.  Poor Steve maintained like a hero!  His headaches seem to be getting worse though, and his muscles are starting to cramp up.  When we sat down to salad, oh I mean supper …. pffft, we felt it was advisable that he start using salt again.  Luckily I am ok as far as that is concerned.  My ‘flu is still hanging around and Divine was reluctant to have a session on Monday morning.  I could feel I was losing the momentum though and bullied him (haha) into a session.  And it was awesome!!!  I was buggered at the end but we didn’t do any real cardio – legs, arms and abs.  It was great.  And then, because I was feeling so bloody self-righteous, I hauled my exhausted sweaty self onto the scale and ended up feeling even more impressed with myself, if that was possible!  I am now down a total of 5.4kg!! 

2 x doggies = 4.6kg

Weighs 800gm

So in picture terms, I have lost two Yorkies and a Tablet!  Whoop!

Today is day 15 – the first day of the last week of detox.  My next weigh in and proper measurement taking thingy is next Monday, when detox is over.  I am going to try make a point of avoiding the scales until then …. I am hoping that I can bring my total detox weight loss to 7kg.  And I am going to work flipping hard to get there.  I also know that the hardest part of this entire exercise is going to be dropping the remaining post-detox weight to achieve my goal weight – because, from next Monday, detox is over.  So in other words, detox was, in reality, the easy part!  However, in the words of Toya Delazy, “Why live to die when you can live to soar".

T

The lost dog, and the lost spirit

Thursday was a gym off day, and the detox went as, well, the detox goes. Friday morning brought a hectic cardio session and my first proper weigh in.  Great news on the scale: I have lost 2.3kg!  Let me put this weight into pictures!

This doggie weighs 2.3kg!! So I lost a dog!

On Saturday things started to go a little pear-shaped.  Picture this:  a football match, Damon on the field, Chloé taking shelter under an umbrella and trying to study, parents around me drinking coffee,  eating burgers and chips and stuff, and there I am – with my water bottle and rice cakes.  A miserable figure.  And it just went downhill from there. 

Later that day I had to drop Chloé off at a party at Grand West – an ice skating party – which meant we had to walk through the food court to get there.  Now it’s important that you understand that the problem was NOT hunger.  I wasn’t hungry.  I was however literally going through withdrawals.  Physical withdrawals.  It felt very similar to when I quit smoking.  If I could have figured out, at that stage, what the hell my body wanted I would have had it – in bucket loads! I had no choice but to resort to doing the heavy Lamaze breathing thing to try keep calm (while only appearing slightly insane).  On my way back to the car (or so I thought) I had to walk through groups of kids milling around, making a noise, chewing food, smiling and laughing – the little shits!  And this almost tipped me over the edge.  I wanted to swipe them violently out of my way!  Grumpy and depressed I made my way back into the casino, loaded up a card with my petrol money (!!!) and proceeded to play a bit of poker.  High roller that I am, when I reached the point where I was R6 up I cashed out and went home.  Steve had, by this stage, left as he had a wedding to dj.  Cupasoup, followed by steamed fish and veggies did not help matters.  Seriously.  I did not realise that this would be as hard as it is. 

Sunday just aggravated the situation.  I decided to soft boil some eggs for us today – as a change from peanut butter – but made the bloody arse things too soft and the white was snotty!  By the time I had progressed through fruit salad for lunch (with wickedly sour grapefruit) and the cupasoup for snack I was destroyed! Oh, and by the way, it is also exam time.  Usually I survive exam-prep with the assistance of a case or two of wine.  Not this time!  The fact that I ended up having a fight with my daughter (and reducing the little karate champion to tears) over fossils, just highlights the state I am in.  In the greater scheme of things, who gives a single shit about fossils?  By the end of the evening I had managed to end up on the shit list of pretty much my entire family!  I was feeling depressed, hyper sensitive, hard done by, weepy and exhausted.  And it was getting worse.

This morning, Monday, I started off with great intentions.  Off I headed to gym – even going early so that I could warm up properly before Divine arrived.  I do not understand how it fell apart. When he got there we started brilliantly - a wicked workout session including me managing to do 126 skips without stopping, along with all sorts of other heavy duty crap – and then, 25 minutes into my session I broke. My lungs were on fire, my head was pounding, the world was spinning and I was scanning the gym for a bucket to throw up in!  No exaggeration!  It was the most demoralised I have felt – so far – on this journey.  It didn’t matter that Divine said that he had pushed me really hard, that I had done well and shouldn’t beat myself up.  It didn’t matter that he said that the withdrawals I had been experiencing were as a result of no carbs and that the lack of carbs was also the reason I was so tired, weak and depressed.   I felt like an absolute sissy - reduced to a shaky bundle of sweat on the gym floor, wanting to huddle in a corner and sob. 

So here I am, (mostly) recovered from the session this morning, but still left with the stink of defeat in my nostrils.  At the beginning of this journey a very wise friend told me to “be kind to myself”.  Would the kind thing be to give in and have some carbs?  Maybe, but is it the right thing?  In the long run, would I be being kind to myself by quitting?  But am I being kind to myself by pushing beyond the misery and withdrawals?  Maybe the kind thing is a combination of everything.  Listening to my body because it knows what it can or can’t do, what it needs and what it doesn’t.  But also be kind to the Tracy I want to be – the healthy, happy, fit and 15kg lighter one!  Melodramatic much? 

I am in desperate need of one of two things right now.  A potato.  Or a hug.  Who knows what tomorrow will hold.

T