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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Cabbage, Alternative Energy Sources and Cockroach Walks

I hate cabbage.  No, I don't just hate cabbage, I detest the leafy veg with such a high level of vigour that it gives me an ache in my spine.  What has this innocuous, innocent, detoxifying vegetable we have known and loved for centuries done to be the subject of such loathing?  Let me enlighten you.

So here's how things went.  The first week post weigh in dawdled along as it always does, with one exception. Divine quietly suggested that perhaps, as we are getting closer and closer to reaching goal weight, and to give my system a bit of a kick, I should do a quick 3 day detox.  Cool, said I.  No problem, said I!  (All the time thinking back to the 21 days of detox I did at the beginning of this adventure.  No sweat, thought I.  Rocked those 21 days, did I!)  Pffft.  On Friday, during our boxing/kicking/Tracy-murdering session, I reminded Divine that he needed to give me a list of what I had to buy for detox so that I could start on Monday.  "No", said he, "a list is not really necessary".  His voiced then lowered a few decibels and his eyes got all shifty.  "What you will eat for 3 days" said he, "for breakfast, lunch and supper", he continued, "will be cabbage soup". I SHIT YOU NOT! I imagine that my face firstly reflected a somewhat amused expression - waiting for him to laugh and say nah, he was only joking.  When this did not happen, my expression would have changed to one of disbelief, followed swiftly by one of pure horror!  Turns out he was dead frikking serious!  Three days of cabbage soup, three meals a day.

Once I had had time to process this idiocy I decided oh hell, why not?  I am strong! I am well able to deal with three days of cabbage soup.  I am, after all, more hardcore that Chuck Norris.  (I write this update now, sobbing quietly to myself, a slight tremor in my hands and an unhealthy pallor to my skin).

On the Sunday pre-detox I made a huge pot of cabbage soup - it smelt quite lekker, I won't lie.  I added some veggie stock, some carrots and beans, a dash or two of paprika for flavour, and separated the soup into 9 portions to cover the three days.  Confident and strong and capable was I.  (You can see that downhill is the only way to go from here right?)

The cabbage soup bubbling away 

Monday came along and - after a wicked ab session with the Hitman - it was time for breakfast.  One bowl of cabbage soup, followed by about a half hour of mild gagging, and I was ready for the day!  I made it until about 12h00 until the gnawing hunger in my gut became too much.  I broke down and had a mini seed bar from Woolies, and raw almonds.  I know, I am a devil right, but jeez it was insane.   More of this glunk for lunch and I was ready to throw in the towel.  It it impossible to put into words just how not into this shit I was. The soup itself was actually not too disgusting.  It had a nice flavour I guess, as cabbage soup goes, but seriously?  When I got home - almost powered exclusively on natural gas - I fell a little further off the detox wagon by shoving two fat-free marshmallows into my mouth.  Yes, you get fat-free marshmallows.  No, they are not sugar free.  So. What.  Guess what I had for supper?  A+ people!  Yes, I had a bowl of delicious, nutritious cabbage soup.  It was at this point that I realised that not only was I suffering, but anyone within a radius of approximately 7.3km would be suffering too - cabbage has a way of, shall we say, repeating on you!  Even my dog, Mojo, took cover in another room!

On Tuesday I schlepped myself off to gym - not feeling all that enthusiastic (duh!!)  Despite complaining bitterly to Divine about how crap this whole cabbage thing was, he dismissed my complaints with snarky comments including,"Are you serious?  It's only 3 days!" and other such nonsense!  I steadfastly refused to commit to carrying on for the full three days, instead covering my derriere (too obvious, I know, but I couldn't resist) by saying that I would give the soup a chance for breakfast and, should I happen to survive, I would try it for lunch too, and so on.  Never mind one day at a time, I had declined to one meal at a time!  I had literally, in the space of 24 hours, gone from "bring it" to "owned".

You can, I am sure, imagine the indignities I have suffered at the hands of my beloved family, not to mention my co-workers! One notable incident was when Zelda, our catering co-ordinator, made a point of letting me know she had stocked up on air freshener! I won't even mention the BBM's I have received involving words like "gas" and "farts"!  Nice right?  

Anyhoo, I made it through breakfast, lunch and dinner with only the occasional dry heave.  I will admit, at this point, to having another seed bar, a ton of raw carrots and a few of my beloved fat-free (not sugar-free) marshmallows!  By the time Wednesday came along I no longer had my happy face on!  I managed to force down the cabbage concoction for breakfast and lunch, had some raisins and, by the time I got home, was so grumpy, bloated, windy and miserable I decided enough was enough.  So, at 17h49 I poured myself an enormous blue glass of wine .... and smiled.

Oh my gosh Thursday's gym session was filled with such excitement!  I was already pumped cos (a) cabbage was a thing of the past; (b) we were going to box, and (c) I was allowed to have my post-gym cup of black coffee again!  Now before I head into the meaty bit of this particular story let me just preface it with this: Divine (and I) have worked very, very hard to get me into a mindset where I am almost comfortable enough with myself and my body to train in the main section of the gym without being too self-conscious. I no longer always wear my longest t-shirts to cover my bum and am becoming quite proud of what I have achieved and of my new, emerging shape.  During our warm-up session Divine wanted me to do spider walks (you may recall in a previous post I explained how undignified this exercise is - arse waving in the air and whatnot), but because he is aware that I am not 100% comfortable with this exercise in full view, he does it with me.  So there we were, back and forward, bums in the air, sweat dripping, when another trainer came past with his client and commented, loudly, "Look! The cockroaches in here are getting bigger. And they have muscles".  I know right?  My immediate reaction was one of disbelief.  Divine stood up and told the dude that his comment was uncalled for and that he did not appreciate it.  And that, or so I thought, was the end of that! Divine and I trained started doing combos but clearly his brain was processing the situation.  I, too, was kind of stuck in my own head, mulling over the comment.  Next thing I knew, Divine excused himself, marched over to the other guy, got in his face a little (!) and told him exactly what he thought of his comment.  There was some interesting language and a lot of testosterone in the air but it was absolutely totally necessary.  I was offended, Divine was offended - and it needed to be addressed.  And addressed it was.   So, adrenalin pumping, we then continued our session and had an incredibly exhausting, but wonderfully therapeutic, bout of me hitting the crap out of everything Divine put in my way! The funny thing about this (there is after all something funny in every situation, right?) is that after gym I phoned and told my mom about what happened (as one does) and the next thing I knew she was all pissed off and ready to head off to the gym, mama lion style, to give this guy a piece of her mind!  You see now - the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?

Friday was yet another melting pot of emotions.  Going through some photos of our work golf day last October my colleague Melanie came across some of me.  Holy pissing ants, people.  I was fat.  What I find so astounding is that I didn't even realise quite how gross I was!  I was going to post the pic on this update but decided that it is my official "before" pic and will be used when I have an appropriate "after" pic to compare it to.   I have, however, printed it out and plucked it on my fridge!  I also made a promise to myself that I would not return to that place, and have decided that, instead of packing my "fat" clothes into a suitcase and storing them, I am going to get rid of every single item.  I WILL NOT NEED THEM AGAIN DAMNIT!

Over the weekend I more or less decided what I was going to be wearing at my birthday celebrations, which led to a minor panicking about the state of my arse and legs.  Of course I stupidly told Divine this and let me just say that, at the end of our session this morning, my legs were a quivering jelly-like mess.

6 days to go until weigh in and, as usual, I am doubting myself and dreading the figures.  Soon .... hopefully .... I will be able to ignore the scale and just be happy with what I have achieved. Soon .....
T
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