The start of my quest to lose weight and get fit. Again.
I am back at my heaviest. Things that fit are those outfits that scream “nothing else in my wardrobe fits”. My jeans taunt me. One pair I can still do up, just. The other I can do up but they keep falling down because my gut keeps pushing them southward. I can feel my gunt sitting on the top of my thighs. It’s repulsive.
There is a mixed cause of this. For started my exercise – from incredible in the last six months of last year all while my back was crushing itself – is now non-existent. I was walking three mornings a week until about a month ago when my mental health went southwards and I am back on meds that make me sleep like I am in coma. Getting up to go walking is just not going to happen. It’s not even that I turn the alarm off, I don’t even hear it – when it’s on full volume AND on the bed beside my pillow.
That medication is also the cause of shooting my metabolism into oblivion. My shrink knows this, we tried to get me off it and we tried another drug which does the same thing without the metabolic side-effects. Off it my anxiety was crippling. On the alternative I was deeply despairing and suicidal. So back on it I am. The price of sanity.
We do have a goal that it will *just* be a three month strategy because it’s not an ideal long term solution for someone who is unipolar. But every time I’ve been off it in the last 12 months the anxiety has been terrifying. I’m not going to get ahead of myself, we’ll see how I’m travelling at the beginning of November.
Then there’s my thyroid. My lazy-arsed good-for-nothing thyroid. Three times bigger than it’s meant to be – although I’ve been on thyroxine for 18 months so I’m hoping it’s shrunk a bit at least. My neck is still fat so who knows. The Hashimoto’s disease means I’m prone to weight-gain and will struggle to lose weight.
But then there is the cherry on top. I take all these factors into account and then think “fuck it” and eat a block of chocolate or a large packet of chips or have that second – and even third – helping at dinner.
So yesterday I drew a line in the sand. At least, I think I did. I couldn’t see over my belly to really see if it was a line. It could have been more of an arc, we’ll never know. Today was Day 2 and it wasn’t too bad. Back to thinking about what I was going to eat rather than shovelling in anything that stood still long enough. And no more crap.
So today was Run 1 of Week 4 of C25K.
It kicked my arse. Big time.
Three five minute runs, two three minute runs. Or some such. I don’t know, I just do what the voice tells me to do. Yep, basically I got an iPhone so I could use the C25K App. LAME.
When I did Run 3 of Week 3 it wasn’t enough and so I jogged about 3 minutes of the 5 minute warm-up. Then I realised that while I’d started my now fairly awesome running playlist (thanks to BabelBabe) I’d forgotten to start the App. Awesome. So I ran some more.
I was pretty sore after that – probably the sorest I’ve been through the whole program.
Then I did today’s run. It’s about nine hours since I ran but my legs still have that goodgy wobbly sensation and the muscles going up the back of my thighs and my arse hurt like hell.
and you know what?
I love it.
I always have. I just fall out of the habit of it and then the thought about getting back into it just seems too hard.
And so here I am, 5.5kgs down (six weeks of not eating enough for a small starving nation every day) and four weeks into the program and already my body tells me, ‘you need to go for a run’. Awesome.
So all I need now is for some of you out there who are running (Badger, I’m looking at you) to share your running playlist with me. Please!
1. On Friday night I put up Christmas wall decals (they were really cheap at the Christmas store at Forestway Fruit Market).
2. Today I saw this on Loobylu‘s site and thought, ‘how adorable’ and went to order the pattern (I stopped myself but it’s only a matter of time).
3. I am into Week 3 of C25K and am loving it. I was a runner as a child so I figure this should not be that surprising. What is shocking is that I am running in a singlet top and bike shorts. In daylight. I have even taken to taking next door’s dog with me. I KNOW!
4. I am wearing clothing that bares my upper arms. Dudes, I have not worn sleeveless items of clothing since c1980. I have had bingo wings/foodoobadahs/tuck-shop arms since puberty. It’s not pretty. It appears I no longer care about public health and safety.
5. I am into week 5 of losing weight. I have neither forgotten that I am attempting to lose weight or given up. I’m down 5.5kgs.
6. In 1992 Chef and I went on a holiday together to Tasmania. We played Scrabble. He beat me. Badly. Being somewhat unhinged tempestuous I threw the Scrabble board in frustration. This would have been far more dramatic was it not Travel Scrabble, thereby meaning the pieces were magnetised and well, you can guess the rest. Fast forward to 2010 and now the proud owner of an iPhone (a totally new addiction I now how to reign in) Chef and I have started playing Words with Friends. Dudes, I have whipped.his.arse. TWICE. OH YEAH BABY. Of course in the current game I’m 70 points behind and seem to have a serve of vowels to make an Eastern European jealous but who the fuck cares. TWO GAMES IN A ROW. Bring it.