The body shots, the duck billed platypus and season's greetings!

Almost a month since I last wrote to you!  Apologies for the neglect, but things have been pretty busy at work and although I have been training like a demon, there hasn't been too much to report on.

Where do I start?  Ok, so armed with my latest measurements, as well as my new weight loss goal of 20kg in mind, it was time to get rid of the last 2kg before the Hitman headed off into the distance for his well deserved holiday.

Some of the training sucked. Big time.  But some really didn't! I had a huge amount of fun when Divine added a new element to our MMA sessions.  He has now included a belly protector type pad thing (technical term) into our training sessions.  Which means that, instead of me just hitting pads which he holds up in the air, I punch the living crap out of Divine himself - jabs and hooks and more jabs!  Hard.  With everything I have.  I am more used to body shots which include tequila, lemon and salt but, truly, it's brilliant!!!  I have to actually think about the punches I am going to throw - like a real fighter! And he makes it even more interesting by dancing around, exhaling loudly when I connect (which just so happens to be regularly), dodging my punches, coming at me like a kamikaze warrior so I can lay in with a volley of body shots - the whole tutti frutti! We look so professional, I shit you not!  Ok, in all fairness he is a professional, but even I feel impressive when we do this! And boy do I sweat!  It is a brilliant workout and adds a different feel to our sessions.  After a few "rounds" I can barely lift my arms anymore.  Such. Much. Fun!

Although we had decided that we would only do one final weigh in and measure session before Divine buggered off on holiday I decided, during the course of last week, that I would brave the scale to see how much I still had to go before reaching the 20kg goal.  Turns out that we had, in the meantime, reached said goal!  I was super stoked and couldn't wait to tell Divine.  Big frikking mistake!  At first it was all good as we discussed the weight loss issue and decided that, although we (I) still want to lose a few more kilos, we would now be focussed on toning and working on specific areas.  Let me interject here and say that I have become incredibly critical of my body.  Initially I was quite impressed, and did a lot of duck face posing in front of the mirror inspecting new found shapes and stuff, but now all I see are the problem areas, of which there are many.  Anyway, bottom line is that the areas I am still unhappy with are definitely my tummy (which, although down substantially, is a wobbly puddle of jelly):

my two little inner thigh love handle thingies:

Pretend this is me  (it's not, but just pretend) that bit she is squishing - that bit pisses me off no end!

And my arms still need some work.

Ok let's NOT pretend this is me, cos it's not (I promise), but you get my point right?

So that having been said, and a plan in mind, Divine decided to "reward" me with a "free weight" session.  The weight in question?  Oh, only the mother flowering 20kgs I had just lost!  Divine's argument was that I started with that, so shouldn't have too much of a problem carrying it around!  I had to lift the weight, jog back and forth with the buggering weight, and do hamstring thingies with it.  I gotta tell you - 20kg is heavier than it looks!

Posing with the 20kg weight

KAK heavy! Seriously!

It seems that Divine's current torture of choice - which focusses on said specific problem areas - involves exercising with free weights and something called (I think) DOMS (not sure exactly of the abbreviation but it goes something along the lines of Delayed Onset Muscle Stiffness or Soreness or Stress or something like that).  What it means, in layman terms, is that you train and think (erroneously) "ag man please, this is a piece of old takkie" and then between 12 to 24 hours later you start to become a little stiff and sore, but still not too bad.  Then, over the following 24 hours, your body seizes completely and reverts to its old favourite - George Burns style!!  You then limp and hop and squeal in agony for at least another 48 hours.

It's funny though because people seem to be surprised that, even after all this time and so much training, I still get stiff and sore. The way I figure it though is that when you stop feeling any sort of pain or stiffness, you have stopped pushing yourself and need to change your workout (or your trainer).  The point is, I reckon, to continue setting goals and working hard towards them.

With only one week to go before Divine leaves, it was time to do our final measure for the year.  Not much has happened really, with most of the measurements staying more or less the same.  The only noticeable change is a further 2cm loss around my waist.  Which is super welcome because we have really been pushing the ab workouts!  And of course the 20kg weight loss goal which I have achieved.  So, my weight loss in farm and other odd animals at this point is as follows:

A 2kg rooster

A 4kg lamb

4kg Duck Billed Platypus

A 1.4kg Mallard Duck

A 2.6kg Sphinx Cat

And a 6kg koala chilling on a log!

So to wrap up:  At this stage I have lost a rooster, a lamb, a duck billed platypus, a mallard duck, a sphynx kitty and a koala in a pear tree.  Ok so it's not a pear tree, but tis the season people, go with me here!

And on that note, this will be my final post for 2012 - go forth, my feathery friends, and eat, drink and be merry!  I will hopefully have some interesting stories to share with you in 2013 about all the chicken-up-a-turkey's-arse-up-a-duck's-arse which I will have eaten, not to mention the many festive sips of sherry!  This is assuming of course that we make it past our next scheduled "end of days" on 21/12/2012!  

Till then, be safe, be loved and be dead sexy!

Cheers!

T
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The Tape Measure and the Bruises

So last week sucked ass.  Monday was weigh in and I strutted into gym super confident and full of my own self-importance - as one gets, you know.   I weighed in, took note of the tonnage, and met up with Divine for measurement time.  I waltzed through the gym, smirking knowingly at people, tipping my head in the direction of the regulars, swinging my hips just a little cheekily as I walked up the stairs, sauntering through the sweaty masses towards the room where the tape measure comes into play, joking and laughing loudly with Divine.  After a search for the white measuring tape, Divine had no choice but to opt for the yellow one.  Why on earth is this of any relevance?  Wait.  Just flipping wait!

Armed with this tape measure, we started what I had expected to be a fabulous session of measuring just how very awesome I was. WRONG!!!  The first result - chest measurement - was UP by 2cm.  WTF?  The second measurement - upper arm - up by 1cm.  At this point my smirk had been replaced with a look of abject horror.  Divine remeasured both areas twice - coming up with the same result.  My waist showed a measly drop of 0.4cm, and there was a gain of 2cm and 1.5cm respectively on my hips and thighs.  I wanted to sob.  Even my calf showed a gain of 1cm.  This was all too much to take in.  I was absolutely flummoxed.  So even though my weight had gone down a little more - now at a loss of 18.5kg - all my measurements had gone up.  How the hell could that have happened?   A very subdued training session ensued, with Divine muttering about possible water retention and hormones and stuff, and with me trying to work out how the holy hell I had managed to eat my way up in centimetres but not kilograms.  We decided a re-measure was in order and planned it for that Thursday.  

After gym I slunk into the coffee shop where Divine was chatting to another trainer about the tape measure incident.  Turns out .... now I was also somewhat taken aback .... but the yellow tape measure is wrong.  It isn't measured out correctly or some kak.  Bottom line is, however, that the measurements were all off and that the rapid onset of depression might not have actually been called for.  Holding on to the slim hope that the dude who measured out the spaces on the buggering thing was pissed as a coot when he did so, I went through the next few days alternating between anxious anticipation and misery.

It was a quieter, more subdued, less confident Tracy and Divine who approached the measuring room that Thursday morning.  No laughter echoed through the gym, no sauntering or cheeky hip swaying in evidence.  Just a pale (me), pasty (both of us), worried (Divine) duo heading for our possible execution.  Ok, fine, so maybe that's a little over-dramatic, but I am trying to set the scene here people, bear with me.

Armed with the tatty, frayed white (yay) tape measure we quietly did the math.  The results were as follows (again, total loss, as opposed to latest loss):

Chest: 13.5cm.
Arm: 3.5cm.
Waist: 21.2cm.
Hips: 14.6cm.
Thigh: 9.3cm.
Calf: 3cm.

Total loss in centimetres:  65.1.  BOOM!

65cm television ;)

The relief - you can imagine - was enormous.  However that whole episode took me down a peg or seventeen, and I realised that in reality it is actually damn easy to pick up the weight and centimetres again.  I have got to be super careful that I don't backtrack.  (Especially since all my new clothes are so bloody small and tight now that there's no room for growth, and I've given all my fat clothes away!).

Oh and Divine is going on holiday.  For a month.  In December. Shit.  This means two things:  Firstly, our new goal of 20kg by Christmas has been moved forward by a massive three frikking weeks!

Secondly, I will be training using willpower alone for an entire bloody month.  I will have to do exercise and yell at myself at the same time; count repetitions all the way to 30 without stopping at 7; do the shitty stuff like gogos or burpees or spider walks of my own volition;  spend a full hour on the elliptical machine at a high level, and not chilling at level 2 and reading a book; keep training 5 days a week even though no one will know if I miss a day or two.  Yoh people!  This is going to be the test.  Do I have what it takes to make it through the festive season with my weight and fitness levels in tact?

I have to tell you, however, that Divine has changed from Mr Nice Guy to Mr Doesn't Take Shit! After last week's mma / boxing session I ended up with bruised shins from the kicking bag.  Just FYI - and in case you think I'm doing it wrong - I am supposed to kick with my shins!  Evidence below!

I miss the days when he was all nice and sweet to me during training, saying things like "you are doing well", "you are awesome", "excellent work" and "take a break"!!  This has now changed to "your bob is bad", "your weave is lazy", "faster", "properly", "do it again"! Pffft!  He has  in essence gone from this

to this:

I suppose it's what happens - the natural progression of things, if you will.  He has to push me or I will never get stronger, fitter and (importantly) slimmer!  I do however plan on moaning about it until I am blue - cos that's what I do! So deal!

T
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The Last Buggering Kilo, Introducing a Koala and the Proof in the Fat Free Pudding!

Wow - what a whirlwind it has been!  Following yet another in a long line of self-pity parties after the previous weigh-in I bucked up a bit and went on a mission - I had two weeks to lose 1kg and was bloody determined to do what it took. I know it sounds like an easy peasy task, but let me tell you - not so much hey!  All jokes about laxatives aside, without going to extremes as far as eating was concerned, I was battling to lose even a few hundred grams - I have developed a fair amount of muscle and definition and although I still have a way to go before I am completely happy with my figure, I don't have quite as much to lose anymore, which actually makes it harder to lose!

So for two weeks I trained, and mostly behaved (aside for a delicious red velvet cupcake at work one beautiful Friday morning), occasionally braving the scale, only to see a few grams difference, or no change at all.  I was pretty caught up in work events and planning my birthday and didn't really have too much time to dwell on the remaining 1kg. Ok so maybe that's a little bit of a lie - I lay awake in bed, around 4am most mornings, thinking.  Dwelling.  Not just about weight but other stuff too.  I had put loads of pressure on myself around my party, what I was going to wear, whether I would look ok in it, blah blah blah. I had made such a hoohaa (not that kind of hoohaa people, the other kind!) about the weight loss and I knew people were going to be expecting a rake thin skinny chick.  I am not that chick.

And then along came tattoo day - and it was AWESOME!  Loved every single second of every single needle prick. Here it is!

Outline done

Finished product

I am very pleased with the way it came out and even though it is currently at the itchy, peely stage (sexy right?), I keep wanting to show it off - even checking out strangers and waiting for them to make eye contact just so I can say "hey, wanna see my tattoo?"!  ;)

The last week saw me pushing myself beyond sanity on the stupid elliptical machine and the treadmill, doing interval running, squats, lunges, crunches - anything to push me past the 18kg mark!  Divine put me through my paces with much enthusiasm, even though he spoilt me with two boxing sessions in one week, which are my absolute favourite! Leroy - coffee maker extraordinaire - kept me standing and vaguely sane by making sure I had a cup of kickarse black coffee waiting after each session! Team work people, let me tell you!

And then Friday dawned - as Fridays do. I stood facing the scale, trying to decide whether or not I was going to get on.  I had pretty much made peace with the fact that, if I hadn't lost the remaining 1kg, I would be ok with it.  But what if I had?  What if the hard work had actually paid off?  What if my goal had been achieved? Apparently I am somewhat of a sadist!  I gingerly stepped onto the scale and waited for the numbers to stop moving - it took me a few seconds to register, but when it did I gave a loud whoop!  I had managed, somehow, to lose a total of 18.1kg - with literally HOURS left before my birthday!  I was so proud of myself!  I have no measurements to share because official measurements only happen every 3 weeks, but let me break it down for you:

4.2kg

4.6kg

3.2kg

And just to shake things up a bit, I have removed the poor old pissed off cat and replaced it with a 6kg koala chilling on a log!

So maybe the time has come, my wonderfully patient friends, to share with you the "before" picture and the "right now" picture. I am not going to say "after" yet, because I am still very much a work in progress.  But right here and right now is where I am.

Before:

Here and now:

So with that goal achieved, it was time to party. And party we did!  Until it wasn't my birthday anymore!  It was loads of fun but I am honestly so glad it's over!  Now I can get down to the part of being all grown up and respectable.  Ok .... stop laughing ..... maybe not so much of the respectable but, let's face it, I am all grown up!

It was interesting going to gym on Monday with no plan in mind, no goal in place.  We have now changed that situation and set a reasonable and hopefully attainable goal of 20kg by Christmas.  I work better with goals - something to set my sights on and work towards.

And on that note, you guys are awesome, I love you and I wish you all happy and hairy Movember!

T
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The Tummy, The Tattoo and the Road to Ms October

Ok, so it's been a while.  Belly solly :(  Things have been kinda hectic at work and home, and finding the time to write has been a challenge.  Also - and this seems to be even more of an issue - I have had very little of interest to share with you lately.  I have been working hard at gym, gearing up to D Day, or B Day I guess, and falling off the eating wagon with alarming regularity.  Oh well.

The first weekend post-weigh in Steve and I headed off to Clanwilliam for a few days.  It would have been entirely unreasonable to have expected me to only drink light wine and eat salad, right?  So Olmeca Chocolate Tequila and plates full of yummy buffet it was!  Tough life right?

I then spent the following week trying to convince my body - through major sweating and working out - that it had not in fact ingested vast quantities of sugary alcohol and stodgy food. You would think I learnt my lesson right?  Nope!  The next weekend I was invited to my mom for dinner  - I don't even know why I should say anything more. It would simply be rude to pick at your food, or insist on salad, if you have a mom who can cook like mine.  Also it would cause her to worry about my health and wellbeing and I would hate to be responsible for causing her unnecessary stress.  So I ate. What was a girl to do?  Oxtail - lots of it.  It was amazing!!  There followed a disastrous lapse in judgment and I hoofed myself onto the scale that Monday!  Horror of horrors (because apparently this was a huge surprise to me), I had put on a kilo!  Pffft!  What. Ever. In an attempt to undo the done, Divine put me through some serious workouts that and the next week.  I think that he is also feeling the time crunch in terms of goals and my birthday and whatnot and appears to be adamant that my tummy will be a solid mass of muscle and definition.  I suppose one should aspire to reach great heights, but really, let's be realistic.  We have years and years and years of neglect and bad eating habits to turn around.  Not gonna happen over night - or even over four months!

What Divine wants!

VERSUS

This is a little extreme - ok a lot extreme - but you get my point right?

What I have done to remind myself to keep on pushing forward though is to book a tattoo for this coming Sunday - 14th October.  It's only my second tattoo - I am still a newbie - but it's an important one.  I wanted to get something different and interesting and deep and shit, and in the end (to the everlasting delight of the poor tattoo artist, I'm sure), I have chosen a butterfly.  Before you scoff too loudly, it is not the normal butterfly.  It is a Celtic butterfly and its meaning is important - INSPIRATION, TRANSFORMATION AND REBIRTH.  Clearly it was a no-brainer.  I have been inspired, transformed and sorta rebirthed!  Here it is.  Pretty hey?

Initially I was going to have it on the inside of my upper arm but then, thanks to Damon and Diane making snarky comments about how the wings of the damn thing would become extended as I got older, and how, in time and as my arm "wings" get woggly with age, the buggering thing would flap all by itself, I decided to position it on the top of my spine, just below my neck! No woggle there!

So with two weeks to go before the B Day, there was bound to be a weigh in to screw up my fun.    There I stood this morning, in the consultation room at the gym, while Divine measured all my bits.  And there I stood, my eyes literally brimming with tears, as he told me that the measurements were pretty much exactly the same - despite all the work that I have put in over the last 3 weeks. The only positive - sort of - was that I have lost another kilogram, bringing me to 17kg in total.

4.6kg

3.2kg

2 x hawaiian geese: 4.2kg

4kg pissed off cat

A 1kg hamster to feed to the pissed off cat!

I am incredibly disappointed, I won't lie.  I wanted to be at an 18kg loss by today and really expected more substantial changes in my measurements.  Poor Divine - he saw how disappointed I was, and did his best to make me feel better, going on about how I am doing really well, I am working hard, that it's a great thing that I haven't gained any weight, that the measurements are "off" because I am now gaining definition, toning and muscles are showing and such like bilge.  Didn't help.  I am still gutted that I didn't have a better result.  I have another two weeks to go before the deadline, so I will try lose that elusive mother flowering kilo by then. Yes I am being hard on myself.  No I won't cut myself any slack.  Yes I know that these things take time.  I don't care.  I want the result.

Oh, and you may remember that I previously mentioned that I had had my picture taken at gym?  Well it turns out I have, at my vast age, finally cracked the nod and become Ms October!  Ok, so it's not a Playboy cover shoot, but I am Member of the Month at Planet Fitness Plattekloof.  Yay me!   And we all know how much I hate being the centre of any positive attention right? How much I detest the spotlight being shone on me?  Try not to fall off your chair laughing, and also, just so you know, snorting with derision gives you wrinkles!

Now that I have officially bi-polared the hell out of this update, I will sign off with the following: perhaps it is time I kicked myself in my well rounded arse, and try to live by the words of the always worthwhile Seether:

"I'm not going to waste this

This opportunity's mine

I'm sick of complaining

About a beautiful life".  

Ring-a-ding-ding people, let's do this!!
T
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The Agony, The Shattered Goal and The Camel-Syndrome

I have tried to figure out a way to put into words how much pain I endured over the past week - and at the same time try not to sound like a complete baby!  My last update ended after last Monday's workout - with Divine having concentrated (at my stupidly idiotic request) on my bum and legs.  What followed on Tuesday was insane.  To the great amusement of my horrible, uncaring personal trainer (!!) I hobbled and limped my way into gym that morning.  Fleeting verbal expressions of sympathy from Divine quickly gave way to revealing his true evil intentions.  No, we were not going to work on my upper body to give my aching lower body a break.  We were going to push forth across barriers not yet traversed by (wo)man .... ok maybe some (wo)man has gone there before, but I am not that particular (wo)man!  The first half of the session was, once again, centred around bum and legs - whilst planking (so to speak) in a "push up" position.  So imagine this, if you would - there I was, resting my entire upper body weight on my hands, whipping my legs back and forth and up and down and sideways and around about the place - at the same time trying to see through the buckets of sweat pouring down my face, gasping lungfuls of air into my burning lungs, and trying to ignore the agonising pain in my hamstrings and bum.  It got to the point - even with Divine being all encouraging and telling me not to give up (bloody hell) and reminding me that weigh-in was mere days away (low blow, let's face it) - that I almost reached my quitting point.  I was at the stage, physically and mentally, that even if I had been told that stopping would mean I would immediately gain 5kg, I wouldn't have cared.  Buggered people - completely and absolutely buggered.  This man is, however, nothing if not a professional and he could see that I had reached my limit.  No worries for our good friend Divine though: he allowed me what felt like a millisecond to gather my dignity off the floor, do the de-wedgie thing, mop the sweat from my brow and suck down a little water, before commencing with the second half of the workout - abs.

The rest of that day, and the day which followed, was a blur of Arnica, Deep Heat and various other forms of self-medication. I was even too sore to make it to gym on Wednesday morning, which has got to give you an idea of the extent of my suffering!  Sitting down and standing up were the biggest issues, you see.  Oh my gosh, and you should have seen me getting in and out of the car!  In order to sit down, I needed to hold on to something with both hands, aim my bum in the general area of the place I hoped to land (which caused me some trauma when going to pee), slowly squat down a centimetre at a time and then just let go, falling (hopefully) into place - all the while trying to stifle the scream brewing in the back of my throat.  Standing was marginally easier but I would be left teetering in place whilst waiting for the waves of pain to subside.  After a few steps things would thankfully loosen up a little and I would be able to, eventually, walk without looking like I had a carrot (or bunch thereof) firmly embedded in ye ol' starfish!

On Thursday I braved returning to gym (after sending Divine strict instructions, by sms, that no bum or leg work would be tolerated).  Apparently listening to me was not part of his Thursday modus operandi and, although he started off with ab work, he progressed quickly to leg work - all in an attempt (so he said) to loosen up the muscles a bit and provide some relief from the pain.  Pffft.  Ja right!  I also had to pose for a pic on Thursday - but will tell you more about that sometime soon!

On Friday I worked on the cardio aspect of training - with weigh-in imminent I need to try burn off some of the tonnage.  I have to say though that this is the part I find most difficult. Running on the treadmill, or using the elliptical machine, or cycling for an entire session - even with music blaring through my earphones - is so frikking boring! Mindnumbingly so.  I get that it is essential, and that it helps with toning and weight loss, but really now?   Blah blah blah!  It did help loosen the stiff muscles and alleviate the pain somewhat so I s'pose Divine does know what he is talking about ...

On Sunday Chloe and I hit the gym and went through a major boot camp session.  Of course I had to try prove that I could keep up with my 13 year old ultra sporty offspring without collapsing in a puddle on the floor.  I held my own, pushing her beyond what she would normally do, and then proceeded to kick her arse (in everything but abs - gosh that girl has abs of steel).  Yes, I know - using my children to validate my own self-worth and pump up the ego is not necessarily considered good parenting.  Oh well!!

My eating regime has generally been pretty good, although I seem to have been awfully hungry lately.  I do however try to go the healthy route when snacking, including my fat free (not sugar free) marshmallows. Although I am still not having my allowable 3 cheat meals a week, I admit that this past weekend did include a starter portion of spicy nachos (so yum) and a Mango Krusher - 24 hours before a weigh in! Not necessarily my best decision.

And then the dreaded Monday arrived.  So here's how this goes.  I am not going to give you a breakdown of the centimetres as I normally would, because not very much has changed.  I have lost a little more around the arm, chest and thighs, and (horrors) gained a centimetre or so around the waist and bum.  Here's the thing though - I am sometimes more camel than I am human and occasionally store a little water in case of drought.  Where is the obvious place to store your emergency water supply?  In your humps!  And anyway, I am not a machine, I am a woman - swings and roundabouts people, swings and roundabouts.

But the good news (yes, there is indeed good news) is weight.  No, I have not lost 15kg.

I have in fact passed the 15kg goal and moved swiftly on to Sweet 16:

A loss, since the last weigh in, of 2.1kg.  My menagerie has therefore grown as follows:

4.6kg

2 x bunnies - 3.2kg

1 pissed off 4kg cat

2 x Hawaiian Geese = 4.2kg!

To date I have lost 2 puppies, 2 bunnies, 2 geese and a pissed off cat. I am extremely proud of myself.  16kg is a whack of weight and I have worked bloody hard to get it off.  Of course I still want to lose more - another 2kg before my birthday hopefully, and another 5 - 8kg (slowly) after that.  But for now I am just going to breathe in deeply, smile broadly, maybe do the occasionally happy dance and know that my hard work is paying off - which is all anyone can ask for really.
T
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