The Lard Arms

The Gluttony of Grief...

...has replaced the gluttony of fear.  

Yes, I have had a week-long foray into eating what the hell I wanted.  Can you hear the rebellious tone in that sentence?

Ironically, on the day itself - the day I lost my dog - I couldn't eat and my husband had to remind me. When we came back from the pet crem, I was so tired, I didn't know what to do with myself.  I had slept in the car on the way home. What I should have done was go straight to bed.  What I did, instead, was stay up, eat food I didn't really want and drink to suppress the tsunami of grief that was threatening to break over me...at any moment.  

Monday crept into Tuesday and the hours and minutes were punctuated by snacking, snacking, snacking. Anything to numb the pain.  I couldn't bring myself to speak to anyone because that would make it real.  So I 'spoke' only virtually, which left even more time to eat.  And drink.  Tuesday swayed into Wednesday and by Thursday I was just existing and suppressing anything that was stopping time marching forward.  

I am usually so careful about my alcohol consumption but my brain has just decided to say f*ck it, anytime my conscience decides to voice concern.

On Saturday, I went to a wedding.  It was informal, with friends but still I found myself craving a drink. To stop me feeling those feelings.  Bad, bad, bad.

So, yet again, another year has become another year of extremes - no real food for months and then gluttony unchecked until my poor body is bursting at the seams.  Literally.

The whole point of me doing all the head work was to prevent situations like this, where eating is masking all sorts of other things.  If I am busy eating, in my spare moments, I don't have to think.  And dwell.  I can just distract myself endlessly.

I am hoping this week will give me some much needed time to put some space between me and food. Doesn't it sound like a relationship gone wrong?  Well, in truth, it is.

Imagine the worst boyfriend/relationship that you can ever have - one that is soooo bad for you that even one sighting of him can set you back months.  Well, that's exactly what has happened to me.  Once given some flexibility, my willpower just runs wild.

Right now, I don't know which is worse; the physical sensation of having pushed so much food into my system that it can't take any more or the fact that I really do have the no dog/no baby blues.  Hmmm.  It's a tough call.

Heartbroken for the Hound

Hello Friends

Every time I post on here, of late, it's with tales of woe.  And today is just the same.  On Monday I lost my gorgeous girl.  You can imagine the pain.  

I just can't write much on here right now but normal business will resume shortly.  Here she was, just two weeks ago in the garden.

The Hell of Infertility

Regular readers of this blog know that the key motivator for me losing weight was to try to get pregnant. After several years of trying to conceive (the TTC acronym will be familiar to anyone who has ventured into the online world of trying to get knocked up), I felt I was in fertility's last chance saloon.  Aged 40 (when I started LighterLife), I had never been pregnant.  Aged 41 I got pregnant naturally and miscarried.  I now understand - 15 months later - what a miracle it was that I got pregnant in the first place.  Sadly, the stats say that my experience of miscarrying were the norm.  At that age, 50% of pregnancies fall at the first hurdle.

The road of infertility is a long and lonely one.  And for those out there who either don't want children or who conceived with relative ease, it's impossible to understand the emotional rollercoaster that eventually takes over and becomes a very destructive force in someone's life.  If you really go for it, you'll try anything and everything.  Acupuncture, Chinese Herbs, Hypnotherapy, Reflexology - not to mention all traditional and medically-invasive procedures - the tests, the results, the hormones.

One writer who has encapsulated the hell that is infertility is Imogen Edwards-Jones.  She's better known for her fiction (Hotel Babylon to name but one) but she wrote a series of columns in The Daily Telegraph a few years ago.  She also wrote a fantastic book, based on the columns.  And, ultimately, her story had a happy ending - she had a daughter but her pregnancy was an anxiety-laden nine months.

Well, now she is pregnant again and I happened to find this article, which describes the experience.  It just gives a sense of what a hideous thing thing infertility (or secondary infertility) is.  And it was this sentence that reflects how painful and awkward social situations can be:

Not that I hadn't thought or even fantasised about having another baby. I had. Often. But I had just kept very quiet about it, batting away questions at children's parties when nosy acquaintances would ask: “D'you want to have another?” the way they do when they run out of conversation after discussing mortgages and schools.

To which I always lied: “Oh no, I am happy with one.” Before giving my best stiff smile and getting a stiff drink.

I was recently at a birthday party and was asked whether I had any children.  One thing led to another and I mentioned I had had a miscarriage.  Before I knew it, there were tears in my eyes and I had to excuse myself.  I still can't really talk about it - although really, what is there to say?  - but the further away it is (in terms of time) the harder it seems to bear.  Maybe because I'm not 20-something or even 30-something anymore.  Maybe it's not so much what I lost but more what statistics tell me I probably won't have ever have.

OK...so where was I?

£35 tent from Millets.  Not bad... and home for five days

Hello, hello, hello.  I'm back in the blogosphere - not that I ever really left but I certainly couldn't print what I wanted to say.   And when I looked at the posts that I drafted, I simply despaired.

But no matter because my dear friend, Lesley, has been busy blogging words of wisdom and providing much food for thought (no, no, no - that's definitely the wrong description).  But you know what I mean!  If I were American, I'd be saying her prose kicks ass right now!  Not least, her latest words on The Fog.

And all the other bloggers, who are keeping on, keeping on - especially Peridot with all her cycling in London.  After my brief foray into getting across the capital on two wheels, I am just in awe (and still terrified for her).

It's been a really weird time.  I wish I could say food took a backseat and I'm maintaining my weight loss. Not so.  There's been a lot of comfort eating - far too much.  And here's the one thing I really notice, if you let it slide, it's just so much harder to get back on the wagon.  A few days of comfort eating do not make you put on the weight you lost.  But, unchecked, the pounds do come back.  With avengence.

I tried NOT blogging, too, in the hope that this might quieten the food craziness.  Because, I'm being totally honest here, if someone is doing brilliantly when I am really struggling, sometimes my thoughts are not positive ones!  In fact, I tried avoiding the weight loss scene for a while and read other blogs. About different people and their lives.  And I came to the conclusion that that was part of the denial.  Apart from thinking, oh my goodness, I cannot relate to their lives in any shape or form, I also realised that the food stuff is part of me and I really connect with people going through the same thing.  End of.  It doesn't have to be my whole life but...it's part of me.  There will be an eternal struggle with food.  Sometimes it will be a hardcore battle.  Sometimes, I might not even notice.  But the moment I kid myself into thinking that it's going to require anything but constant vigilance, it's game over and I'll just go back to being seriously obese and hating myself every single moment of every single day.

One of the other reasons for not blogging was the fact that my husband was reading it so when I "confessed" to eating things that were clearly doing me no good, he was using it as ammunition.  Or perhaps I should say he was trying to be my conscience and believe me, I did not welcome the words of wisdom coming my way.  The chocolate breakfast I had before my driving theory test came back to haunt me.  So it's a tough call; I like being honest in this blog.  It was and still is really important for me to say it as it is.  But once the people you know and love know where you are in cyberspace, it becomes trickier.  I also regret giving the blog details to a couple of people whom I am no longer in contact with and wish that I could keep the two parts of my life separate.  But real life isn't like that either!  

Anyway, anyway, anyway - here's the thing.  I also realise I need accountability and the blog alone is not enough.  I cannot get to my LighterLife Counsellor's meetings at the moment. I am so rarely in London (medical appointments aside) and logging my weight (which I still do) isn't enough either.  I need something else to keep me focused,particularly as my nomadic existence is going to continue.  I don't know what it is.  I am sure I will find it.

In the meantime, I am off to Glastonbury.  Yep!  For those who know me, this is a gobsmacking announcement.  I have never been camping in my life (I am a city girl, after all!) and while I was happy to let the scales slide to 17 stone (or thereabouts), I always washed my hair!  Everyday - unless gripped by depression.  I also drink tea as if it's my last day on earth.  Morning, noon and night.  That's how I function!  But we have been advised to take no cooking stuff, whatsoever.  So, Glastonbury will either prove to be a life-changing success or the mother of all meltdowns. With rain forecast for Saturday, it's anybody's guess.

One thing I do know is that I find myself wishing I was slimmer. And that depresses me - it really does. Even for a camping trip, I have wardrobe anxiety.  Sigh, sigh, sigh.

'Real Life' On Hold

The nomadic existence continues and continues to take its toll.

I realise some people really thrive on being in different places at different times - have suitcase, can travel - while I, however much I fantasise about my dream life, most definitely do not.

It takes me a long time to get settled and into a new routine and routine is the absolute cornerstone of weight loss and weight maintenance.  Well, it is for me.

So no long-term routine = no weight loss/weight maintenance out of the window ie weight gain!

There are lots of things going on right now that I just can't blog about - too painful to be honest.  BUT I am still reading everyone's updates and remain amazed and impressed from afar!

Keep going and thanks for lovely messages of support.

Numbers, numbers, numbers

Apologies for the absence.  This is due to:

a) TypePad problems - I could not login for love nor money for ages!

b) I wrote several new posts but couldn't publish them - they didn't feel right - I think I have bored myself with my current regime (lost weight, put on weight, lost weight again, put on weight again) and my current health situation means I cannot live in a gym or do vigorous exercise, even though I want to.  Can you believe I want to go running??

c) I just haven't felt like I am in the groove - the groove where I need to be!!!  

Anyway, in the meantime, the numbers are still chasing me!  I got an email from Weight Watchers telling me about 17 Things To Do Instead of Overeating

I think it tells you everything you need to know when I say that it just irritated me!  

Then my friend Porkchop recommended a BBC programme (via Nigella's website - YES, domestic goddess Nigella famed for her cakes (definitely not of the rice variety)!

The BBC programme is called 10 Things You Need to Know About Losing Weight

Now it's only available on iPlayer (sorry, non-UK readers) for two more days BUT you can download it and watch it later ie you don't need to be wired to the internet to see it.  BUT be warned, I am downloading it in a free wifi cafe and it is taking hours - literally.  Not good.  But the programme is, apparently.

So, I hope everyone is well.  I'll get back into the weight loss/maintenance world soon enough, I'm sure.

Enjoy the gorgeous sunshine; I have to avoid it now (sigh, sigh, sigh) but it's still beyond welcome!!!  And I feel so happy looking at a cloudless blue sky.

Stop? Go? Wait?

Well, actually, I've been doing all three.  Today...I passed my driving theory test.  For the second time!  I am ECSTATIC!

I passed last time but that was a decade ago so the certificate is now null and void and she who wants a UK driving licence must have a valid (for two years only) theory test in her possession.  Yesterday, I had to rush to London for more medical tests - at short notice - so my revision time at the car centre computer went down the swanney.  I took my books but each time I tried to concentrate, I was too distracted.

This morning I was on the phone to my husband for my last-minute revision, asking about driving/parking uphill and downhill and what you need to purchase a Tax Disc.  And guess what?  Those questions came up!

Food-wise things have gone completely haywire.  'Breakfast' this morning was a Mars bar and a Snickers bar!  Hellooooo?!   But yesterday was a long, very stressful day - excuses, excuses, excuses - and when my alarm went off at 5.00am (WTF?!), I just could NOT wake up.  Of course, you may wonder how I had such forbidden foodstuffs within easy reach.  I bought them last night on the way home, en route via the supermarket.  Just in case...

I think the reason I am so thrilled (about the exam, not the chocolate consumption) is that it's something I dreaded.  I had convinced myself that I couldn't pass.  I wasn't even going to sit the exam.  My brain was sooooo busy telling me what I didn't know that it was hard to keep the noise down.  This is an exam that thousands of people sit (and pass) every year yet the fear almost stopped me stepping outside.  

Anyway, I will soon be venturing out onto the road.  I am not sure I can face the simulator just now so I might just go for the real thing.  In the meantime, the celebrations will have to be curtailed - if I am not careful the scales will get really out of control.

Counter Productive

Today I had another driving school moment.  I was in the simulator and couldn't do the 'task', which was all about progressing.  This is when you move from one gear to another, as you increase the speed of the car (or so I believe!). There was no progress being made, as the simulator's automatic voice kept telling me. I was either going too slowly OR I wasn't breaking smoothly enough OR the gear changes were wrong. Either way, I was not progressing.

Cue: anger and frustration followed by tears.  But the tears only appeared when one of the lovely staff tried to help me.  The tears were all about not being able to do it, not being able to drive... when everyone else can!  Can you hear the whining from where you are?!

I think the practical side of driving is going to be a slow business (I have failed my manual test twice).  I phoned my friend, Porkchop, and continued to sob down the phone, saying I hated driving and I'd never be able to do it.  No, she reminded me, I do not hate driving, I hate having to learn to drive.  The two things are very different.  Aha!

Weight loss and weight maintenance are exactly the same.  I'm getting to grips with the theory (apart from the driving in fog situations and what documents you need to get a tax disc versus insurance versus an MOT).  But, in comparison, I can 'do' theory.  Just like I know what to do about losing weight.  And, if I am honest, I know what to do to maintain.  I just choose NOT to do it.  I am choosing NOT to learn how to maintain my weight in a practical way.  I realised today it's because I'm worried I will fail.  And while I am busy worrying I will fail (at maintaining weight), I am busy eating off piste - the driving equivalent would be having lots of mini crashes.

Never mind education, education, education or Location, Location, Location - it's got to be application, application, application.

After the tears on the simulator, I decided to halt the lessons until I have finished (and passed) my theory test.  The two are not inter-dependent.  My husband thought this was an excellent strategy; going on the simulator, particularly at a hormonally-challenged time, is "counter productive" he advised.  Absolutely.

Eating off piste is exactly the same; it's totally counter productive and against what I am trying to achieve. So it's one step at a time.  Even if they are teeny tiny steps.  Just so I can progress!

History Repeating Itself

I am back home for the weekend - I am still doing the suitcase living thing - so 'home' doesn't feel like home anymore.  It feels like somewhere I visit, from time to time and, when I do, I have so much to do - garden, allotment, domestic chores, etc etc.  But one thing is constant - the weighing scales.

Well, let me rephrase that, when I come home, to my own scales, I get a reality check.  Whatever the other scales tell me, when I get back here, I really know what's going on ie I can't fool myself (hard as though I might try).

In six weeks, I have gained 9lbs.  If I take my pre-surgery weight, it's 10lbs.  That really is nearly a stone. Crikey!  (It's history repeating itself, alright; Christmas 2007/2008 saw me gain the same amount and I cannot let it get so out of hand again.)

I wish I could say that I haven't seen it coming (the weight gain) but I have.

I wish I could say that it's because I've eaten out every single night and indulged my every whim.  But I haven't.

I wish I could say that I have done absolutely no exercise to merit such a gain but I have (done some).

But here's what did happen:

I have eaten out a few times.  Not many but enough, clearly, to make a difference.  Last weekend we ate out twice, which is a rarity.  A combination of a couple of courses with booze seem to be the tipping point. I may not indulge in the restaurant BUT I do find it hard to reign things back in afterwards - it really is as if my brain seems to say "now we have permission to eat what we like - off we go!".

I've started to 'reward' myself with food. The driving thing has proved to be a mixture of stress and hilarity. I did indeed ring up my friend Doodle (a long-term dieter and weight-holder!!) and say that I had 'sim' rage'.  The simulator (pretend car) did bad things to my mind.  The lovely staff recommended I take a chill pill (I am NOT joking) - not once, but twice in a two-hour session and maybe get some fresh air and a coffee.  When I cannot do a certain exercise/manoeuvre - particularly anything involving clutch control (ie most manual driving!) - I don't find myself cheering myself on - quite the opposite.  It's a litany of how rubbish I am, how I cannot drive - and who am I kidding? - and on and on and on.  And on!  So, I noticed that by the end of the week, the sessions were pre-empted with some food (just in case - you know, that old chestnut - I wonder, just in case what, exactly?  I might break down in the fake car, on the fake hard shoulder?!).  The sessions were punctuated by a visit to the cheap food van opposite or a nearby Starbucks - for tea and coffee only but then on Friday I bought a flapjack.

Eating too much - I cannot bring myself to write the words portion and control together in one sentence. It will do even worse things to my diet-resistant brain!  Quite easily and unconsciously, I think my portions have been getting bigger again.  I've noticed that I am eating the same amounts as my husband who is almost a foot taller than me and currently going to the gym at least four if not five times a week.  I am not doing that level of exercise to burn off the plates of food.  

Anyway, so as not to be 100% negative, here's what's been good or...a work in progress.

Exercise - now, I'll be absolutely honest.  I am frightened of exercise.  Errr, let me rephrase that.  I am frightened about the effects of exercise.  The 10K walk from a few weeks ago...well, it happened.  (Lovely reader, Vanessa, gave me a recommendation for a book - which I will research and share - thank you!)  But it wasn't a glorious walk in the countryside; it was an urban walk of terror!  Lots of empty stretches with dodgy-looking men, making me feel very nervous.  For 3/4 of the walk, I saw  just one woman!   Anyway, instead of thinking, never mind, I can find a different route, I didn't repeat the two-hour walk.  Walking is good for me and good for my skin ie my skin does not completely freak out (due to the mastocytosis).  But it takes a long time.  

Running - I talk about running but never do it.  I fantasise about running but never get out there.  Yes, I really do like the idea... Anyway, last weekend, I finally, finally, finally went for a 30 minute walk-run-walk-run session...with my husband!  I have been waiting for such a day for... years.  If I told any of our friends, they would be massively shocked so I have to say I am very proud of my husband's commitment to exercise.  He's not a natural athlete but he's stuck at it. We went out on both days - Saturday and Sunday - and while it was hard, it wasn't impossible.  I monitored my skin and it wasn't great.  Even my husband was alarmed BUT it wasn't as bad the second time AND it certainly wasn't as dramatic as it has been after running on a treadmill.  After five minutes in a gym situation (running to my favourite Coldplay track!), I am literally burning up and my skin is sooooo itchy, I feel as if I need to tear my clothes off.  It sounds comical but it really isn't.

There is a medical anxiety that I am living with at the moment.  I can't pretend it's otherwise.  There's also a great deal of uncertainty about our personal situation - my husband and I are still not living in our home, together, or, indeed, in one place together.  We don't know where we will be in six months' time.  Of course, lots of others are in the same situation in these credit crunch times.  So, day to day, I work really hard at being positive but there is no doubt that these underlying uncertainties give me an excuse...to eat!

There is much work to be done on the practicalities of getting the weight back down (I am now officially back in the overweight zone) without resorting to abstinence.  I also want to master the art of going out to dinner AND not going bonkers afterwards.

Anyway, I am not going to beat myself up (ha!) about this but some firm taking myself in hand strategies need to be applied!   It's time for Dr Beck - not to read or listen to in an osmosis-fashion - but to commit pen to paper and do the exercises.  I really cannot be all talk and no action.  Speaking of which...it's time for a run!  Ha ha.

My friend Doodle is doing the Moonwalk tonight, so I am wishing her lots of love and luck.  For those of you unfamiliar with it, it's a walking marathon (or half marathon if you can't face the 26.2 miles).  It's in aid of breast cancer charities and it's a fantastic thing to do.  So, for anyone doing charity events in the near future, GOOD LUCK.  

Wishing everyone a gorgeous weekend - what has happened with the weather in the UK?  My poor garden is battered.  And as for the promised barbecue summer...

Driving Me Crazy

I have decided to get back to driving.  And try to pass my test - third time lucky.  I haven't been near a test centre for more than a decade.  But I did have lots of lessons about seven years ago and... then did nothing about a test.  I've taken a theory test - in the past - and got the certificate.  But all these things are useless now as I have to start from scratch.

So, I've armed myself with the latest books and ensured that I can access a reputable driving school's computers and simulator (supposed to be like a car but soooo not!).  So far, so bad.  I would have failed both tests in spectacular fashion.

But but but...I am really keen to pass.  I am highly motivated because where we live now is not like the capital - it isn't overrun with fabulous public transport.  And being unable to drive is a massive disadvantage.  If doing a serious diet has taught me anything, it's taught me that persistence is the key.  I often forget that in food situations but it's true.  

Part of my driving avoidance was due to my utter terror about exams.  And feeling rubbish.  There is nothing like being unable to do something that the majority of the population can.  Every single one of my friends can drive.  And their partners.  All my neighbours can drive.  I only know of one person who doesn't  and they are still in central London.  So they have no need of a car.

It's so interesting - before I had my lessons, I wanted to eat.  It was anxiety.  When the simulator was telling me that I was failing on the same points, many times over, I just wanted to run away and hide in a sandwich shop.  Luckily, the staff are calm and patient and reassured me that sometimes the simulator can get it wrong. Imagine!

Afterwards, I wanted to eat.  It was the relief of surviving several hours in a driving school!  I also wanted to numb the feelings that saw failure, failure, failure on the results sheet.   The urge to eat was...almost overwhelming.  Fortunately, since I was already stuffed (from a sandwich!), I managed to get myself home, in one piece, avoiding all eateries.  And I decided to blog instead and hope the crave wave subsided.

Food-wise, overall, things are not great.  They are not terrible but I find if I slacken the leash, I go bonkers. I ate out twice over the weekend and reigning myself back in, is like coming back after the most fabulous holiday.  Real life kicks in!  Today the sun is shining and I want to go out in the evening and have fun. With food!  Again, it simply isn't an option and so once my work is done, I'll be cosying up with my Theory Test Manual.  And supposedly enjoying a delicious salad, too.  All I want are carbs. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm