Eesh. Turning into quite a week this.
Nice thing Monday - Tina and Greg, the gurus who put together my magazine, and who built my Jefferson Franklin website - were in Merthyr for a dog-related excursion (there's a seriously good training kennel in the town), so we all met up for dinner at the Nant Ddu - them, me, d and, perhaps a little oddly, Ma.
Thing is, we had a big meal, going on late at night, so when I got up yesterday morning to walk, I was still carrying an intestine full of gorgeous lamb, sweet potato, pork bonbons etc. Which explains why the Nazi Scales showed me at 18st 4. I told them to fuck off and die, they sneered, I went walking. The issue there was that on my long walk, I drop off Ma on the way back home, and she invited me in for breakfast, so by the time I got finally home, the day's data was corrupt.
So this morning I woke up and did precisely nothing in the way of exercise, as I'm launching my brand spanking new author website in about 30 hours from now, and at the start of the day I didn't really have one. Spent about six hours fannying about with logo designs in between chunks of day job, but now we're finally getting somewhere.
But when I weighed in, officially - yeah, you heard me, today's the official one - I was:
18st 0.75. That means I lost all of three quarters of a pound last week. Disappointing all round but there it is. Perseverence is the key to active Disappearance.
Starbucks day tomorrow, with still so much to do, both in the day job, the Jefferson job (I sort of sneaked a last quickie edit in) and web building, it hardly bears thinking about. But still going walking before the Starbucks day begins.
I mentioned the whole perseverence thing, right? On we go. There...freaking...will be a 17 in my numbers next week, dammit!
This is the diary of one year in the life of a really fat man, trying to lose weight and avoid the medical necessity for gastric surgery. There are laughs, there's ranting, there's a bitch-slap or two. Come along!
Wednesday, 30 July 2014
Wednesday, 23 July 2014
Walking The Double-Walk
Today was going to be a little bit different to the last two days. Didn't do the long humungo-calorie burning walk this morning, partly cos Ma wanted to walk with me but only had a certain amount of time, and partly because we'd scheduled a grocery delivery, so I too had to be back in the house by a specific time. Nevertheless, between us, Ma and I managed to convolute and complicate a walk up to Costa so that it took five miles, and much of it was either uphill or up-steps. Ended up burning 850 calories according to the Gestapo Phone.
Blasted through the rest of the day, buzz-sawing through some editing, building the bones of my next magazine, dealing with a lot of nitty-gritty stuff and watching half an episode of Blake's 7 - don't judge me, I'm a geek.
When the work day was over, I felt a little restless, so I pulled on some trainers, stuck the iPod on and decided to do the UberWalk in any case. About halfway through though, with the sun roasting me to bacon (round about the Incline Top decision point, as to whether you do the big flat section and the long downhill), I decided I was over besing restless, and turned back for home - just in time to be picked up by d and her pal Lou, driving down the high street of the town.
The results, according to the Gestapo Phone, are that today I've walked 18,481 steps, equating to 11.3 miles, and due to the enormous amount of evil uphill involved, I've burned 1988 calories.
Foodwise - one large decaff skinny latte from Costa, three Weetabix with semi-skimmed, one Pink Lady apple, and dinner - a portion and possibly a quarter of egg fried rice, with stir fried chicken and vegetables.
I'm thinking of having some summer fruits once this blog entry's written, but I have to say, right now I don't need to have that, as I'm pretty stuffed.
My legs are...not exactly pissed with me, but have that particular kind of stretchy ache you get from a really good gym session.
Oh, on which subject:
"You really need to get back to the gym," said d, appropos of practically nothing.
"Do I?"
"Yeah. All that you're doing, it's great, but it's all leg work."
I blinked.
"Am I starting to look like a frog from Biology class or something?"
She peered at me, curiously.
"Not yet," she judged. "But if you keep this up you'll have walnut-cracking thighs and the rest of you'll be floppy."
"Not all the rest of me, thankyouverymuch!"
Did I mention it's our tenth wedding anniversary this year - in September, actually. Nothing brought that home to me more keenly than d's next response. See, back in the young days, a line like that, denying floppiness, would have been accompanied by a mental soundtrack of boom-chaka-wow-wow...and I'd have done some waggling of at the very least my eyebrows, and who knows what would have ensued. Now I delivered it more on a note of indignation. d paused, caught her tongue between her teeth, pushed her glasses up her nose, sniffed and said "Yes, dear," before turning back to her Bubble Witch.
I will be going back to the gym either when I see a 17 in the stones column, or in August, when I take three months off active editing duty to get some writing - and some more Disappearing - done. Till then, I'm happy walking my legs to stubs while the rest of me stays floppy.
Tomorrow - long walk, followed by longish Starbucks day to finish an edit and a bunch of other stuff to boot.
Blasted through the rest of the day, buzz-sawing through some editing, building the bones of my next magazine, dealing with a lot of nitty-gritty stuff and watching half an episode of Blake's 7 - don't judge me, I'm a geek.
When the work day was over, I felt a little restless, so I pulled on some trainers, stuck the iPod on and decided to do the UberWalk in any case. About halfway through though, with the sun roasting me to bacon (round about the Incline Top decision point, as to whether you do the big flat section and the long downhill), I decided I was over besing restless, and turned back for home - just in time to be picked up by d and her pal Lou, driving down the high street of the town.
The results, according to the Gestapo Phone, are that today I've walked 18,481 steps, equating to 11.3 miles, and due to the enormous amount of evil uphill involved, I've burned 1988 calories.
Foodwise - one large decaff skinny latte from Costa, three Weetabix with semi-skimmed, one Pink Lady apple, and dinner - a portion and possibly a quarter of egg fried rice, with stir fried chicken and vegetables.
I'm thinking of having some summer fruits once this blog entry's written, but I have to say, right now I don't need to have that, as I'm pretty stuffed.
My legs are...not exactly pissed with me, but have that particular kind of stretchy ache you get from a really good gym session.
Oh, on which subject:
"You really need to get back to the gym," said d, appropos of practically nothing.
"Do I?"
"Yeah. All that you're doing, it's great, but it's all leg work."
I blinked.
"Am I starting to look like a frog from Biology class or something?"
She peered at me, curiously.
"Not yet," she judged. "But if you keep this up you'll have walnut-cracking thighs and the rest of you'll be floppy."
"Not all the rest of me, thankyouverymuch!"
Did I mention it's our tenth wedding anniversary this year - in September, actually. Nothing brought that home to me more keenly than d's next response. See, back in the young days, a line like that, denying floppiness, would have been accompanied by a mental soundtrack of boom-chaka-wow-wow...and I'd have done some waggling of at the very least my eyebrows, and who knows what would have ensued. Now I delivered it more on a note of indignation. d paused, caught her tongue between her teeth, pushed her glasses up her nose, sniffed and said "Yes, dear," before turning back to her Bubble Witch.
I will be going back to the gym either when I see a 17 in the stones column, or in August, when I take three months off active editing duty to get some writing - and some more Disappearing - done. Till then, I'm happy walking my legs to stubs while the rest of me stays floppy.
Tomorrow - long walk, followed by longish Starbucks day to finish an edit and a bunch of other stuff to boot.
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
The Water-Treader
OK, so not bad news exactly. No news, in fact. Zilcho Newsio.
Today's weigh-in had me at exactly the same as las week's - 18st 1.5.
Frankly, happy enough with that, as I had a week of less exercise than I should have, and quite a few big hefty meals.
Back on track now though - did the long-ass uphill walk again today, with similar results reported on the Gestapo Phone - 8.5 miles, 15000 steps, and about 1500 calories burned. Less food - Muesli for breakfast, two large coffees at Costa, two slices of white toast with scrambled egg and beans for lunch (carb and protein there), and for tonight's dinner, a simple jacket potato with a few more beans (beanfest! Boy am I gonna be popular...)
And on we go into what will undoubtedly be a healthier week. Spoke to Rebecca earlier, who's actually now near her first stone mark. She told me that last time she looked, she'd had that extra-special "big-number-change moment" - where your stone counter drops you into a whole new realm and the motivation fire flares.
On my initial calculations, I expected to feel that this week, but clearly, given my commitment level over the last seven days, that wasn't going to happen. Happy enough to go nowhere, and push on down in the week that's coming. To see a 17 again, as I've mentioned, will be my first real Rubicon - in my mind it's a shift of mode, from Fat Bloke Losing, back into proper Disappearing Territory. The excitement of seeing that 17 will make me hunger hugely to see it change again, to find a 16 in my life, and so on going down.
So here's to seeing a 17 before the end of July. And here's to all my fellow Disappearers, and the joy of a big number change.
Today's weigh-in had me at exactly the same as las week's - 18st 1.5.
Frankly, happy enough with that, as I had a week of less exercise than I should have, and quite a few big hefty meals.
Back on track now though - did the long-ass uphill walk again today, with similar results reported on the Gestapo Phone - 8.5 miles, 15000 steps, and about 1500 calories burned. Less food - Muesli for breakfast, two large coffees at Costa, two slices of white toast with scrambled egg and beans for lunch (carb and protein there), and for tonight's dinner, a simple jacket potato with a few more beans (beanfest! Boy am I gonna be popular...)
And on we go into what will undoubtedly be a healthier week. Spoke to Rebecca earlier, who's actually now near her first stone mark. She told me that last time she looked, she'd had that extra-special "big-number-change moment" - where your stone counter drops you into a whole new realm and the motivation fire flares.
On my initial calculations, I expected to feel that this week, but clearly, given my commitment level over the last seven days, that wasn't going to happen. Happy enough to go nowhere, and push on down in the week that's coming. To see a 17 again, as I've mentioned, will be my first real Rubicon - in my mind it's a shift of mode, from Fat Bloke Losing, back into proper Disappearing Territory. The excitement of seeing that 17 will make me hunger hugely to see it change again, to find a 16 in my life, and so on going down.
So here's to seeing a 17 before the end of July. And here's to all my fellow Disappearers, and the joy of a big number change.
Monday, 21 July 2014
The Road-Bump
OK, so that was a week.
Couldn't honestly tell you much about it, except that I didn't walk or bike anywhere near as regularly as I need to in order to lose my regulation two pounds, and I ate some big meals.
Tuesday we discovered a new (to us) Keralan restaurant called Spice Berry in Caroline Street, Cardiff. Fantastic food, go if you can, but ate my way through two courses with no qualms at all. Yesterday we went to Amroth for the day, and I did a once-a-year thing, having a pizza at the Pirate on Amroth sea-front. In years gone by I'd down a whole one of these, then be looking for dessert. This year I barely made my way through all but the final slice.
Walked this morning for one of the only times this week, and decided to add a frisson to the Trail walk. I reverted to a previous walk that has always seemed like it's probably shorter than the Trail walk, but with far more uphill - up a street called Alma Row, which is to hills what Simon Cowell is to Smarmy bastards, along Thomastown past a pretty park that I've waked around more times than can surely be healthy, up to a thing called Incline Top, which has got to tell you its own story, along a long, flat section called the Goat Mill Road (and as I've asked before, one has to wonder who exactly is milling goats), and then down through Dowlais back to the bottom of the town, where we live.
As I say, think I've measured that before and had it come up as significantly shorter than the six miles of the Trail walk, but this morning, I had the Gestapo Phone on, with its step counter, mileometer and calorie-counter, and it pulled in ridiculous numbers - 14,000 steps, 8.5 miles and 1400 calories burned. The 8.5 miles surely has to be just the phone having a bad reaction to the idea of hills (you live in Wales now pilgrim, suck it up!).
Tomorrow therefore, I'm expecting actively bad news, not just stable news.
"Put it behind you nd go forward" - sage words today from Rebecca, who herself has just passed the half-stone mark, which is pretty freakin' awesome given the insanity of her worldwide schedule.
Behind me is where it shall be put. But that's tomorrow. Am about to get on the bike for an hour before we even get there. That weaty pedalling fool, reading Roman history to himself? That would be me.
Couldn't honestly tell you much about it, except that I didn't walk or bike anywhere near as regularly as I need to in order to lose my regulation two pounds, and I ate some big meals.
Tuesday we discovered a new (to us) Keralan restaurant called Spice Berry in Caroline Street, Cardiff. Fantastic food, go if you can, but ate my way through two courses with no qualms at all. Yesterday we went to Amroth for the day, and I did a once-a-year thing, having a pizza at the Pirate on Amroth sea-front. In years gone by I'd down a whole one of these, then be looking for dessert. This year I barely made my way through all but the final slice.
Walked this morning for one of the only times this week, and decided to add a frisson to the Trail walk. I reverted to a previous walk that has always seemed like it's probably shorter than the Trail walk, but with far more uphill - up a street called Alma Row, which is to hills what Simon Cowell is to Smarmy bastards, along Thomastown past a pretty park that I've waked around more times than can surely be healthy, up to a thing called Incline Top, which has got to tell you its own story, along a long, flat section called the Goat Mill Road (and as I've asked before, one has to wonder who exactly is milling goats), and then down through Dowlais back to the bottom of the town, where we live.
As I say, think I've measured that before and had it come up as significantly shorter than the six miles of the Trail walk, but this morning, I had the Gestapo Phone on, with its step counter, mileometer and calorie-counter, and it pulled in ridiculous numbers - 14,000 steps, 8.5 miles and 1400 calories burned. The 8.5 miles surely has to be just the phone having a bad reaction to the idea of hills (you live in Wales now pilgrim, suck it up!).
Tomorrow therefore, I'm expecting actively bad news, not just stable news.
"Put it behind you nd go forward" - sage words today from Rebecca, who herself has just passed the half-stone mark, which is pretty freakin' awesome given the insanity of her worldwide schedule.
Behind me is where it shall be put. But that's tomorrow. Am about to get on the bike for an hour before we even get there. That weaty pedalling fool, reading Roman history to himself? That would be me.
Wednesday, 16 July 2014
15th July - The Diminishing Disappearance
There’s a slightly worrying trend developing in this
Disappearance. Started off with the six pound bump, then two or three weeks of
a steady two pound drop. Last week, I was down a pound and a half, and today,
down a pound and a quarter, to 18st 1.5.
Now as I said last week, there’s bound to be a bit of a
palaver when you measure pre-bathroom in the morning, as your weekly result
then depends on whether you have a big meal the night before or not. As it
happens, I didn’t last night – steak, with a tiny bit of pasta, followed by
fruit. And of course, yadda yadda, still going in the right direction etc. But
that can’t continue – this gradual breaking force will begin to have a real
effect next week, because next week, according to my adjusted first week
forecast, I’m due to see a 17 in the stones column, and if the braking force
continues, I won’t see that at all. Time to really kick some stuff up a notch.
Walking and biking, or walking and gymming. Something, anyhow, to take
the metabolism by surprise again, stop it settling and getting used to the
dietary regime. Something to make it do my bidding, bwahahahahaaaa!
Looking at things with a more “Starbucks mug half full”
viewpoint of course, this is the first time I’ve seen a 1 in the pounds column
in a long while – I actually went from 19st 2 to 18st some-odd, missing out the
1 entirely. Seeing a 1 is always a bit weird – you get the thrill of being
close to a border, then the moderate deflation of being only close to the border.
I know, I know, doesn’t sound like a
mug hall full philosophy but if you’re going to be a Disappearer, it doesn’t do
to get too content with anything, however much it pushes you closer to your
goal. But still, despite the braking force and the need to double down to get
over the borderline, I’m quite happy with the result today. No walking today –
needed to focus on the editing for a solid day – and no walking tomorrow
either, as I’m on an UberCommute. But Thursday, dammit, doubling down and
cracking on.
Thursday, 10 July 2014
The Frappucino Aversion
Went on my long day's journey into Kent yesterday and stopped off at Starbucks before 8AM. They have a habit in Starbucks of occasionally throwing new things into their menus, and I decided while not exactly to extend the bubble in my perspex walls as such, to try something new for the sheer curiosity of it, without letting it touch my core resolve at all.
Which is how I came to breakfast on a banana yoghurt frappucino.
In case you're wondering, yes, it was entirely as noxious as it probably sounds.
The good thing about this of course is that it lessens to zero any potential 'gateway' likelihood the move might have latently had, to get me swigging down buckets of sugar and fat in frappucino form. In fact if anything, it acted entirely in the opposite direction, to make me stick to what I know and what can be calorifically controlled.
Didn't go walking this morning - didn't get in till close to midnight last night and this morning my legs were spasming and rubbery. Oh, I should say - after this yoghurtastrophe, I had a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich on Tonbridge station, and a small packet of nuts en route from Paddington to Cardiff, along with several more regular coffees.
And peculiarly, despite it being a day of no particular exercise and an awful lot of sitting on trains, managed to achieve my Gestapo Phone's demanded 10,000 steps.
So - today no walking early, though I haven't yet given up on the idea of going walking this evening. So far today, just the regulation three Weetabix with semi-skimmed and one large mug of coffee, also semi-skimmed.
The odd thing really is that today feels like Tuesday because I only normally travel cross country on a Monday for the UberCommute. Am going for one of those next Wednesday too, to by a week today, I probably won't know what day, month or year it is. Still, as long as the flesh keeps Disappearing...
Which is how I came to breakfast on a banana yoghurt frappucino.
In case you're wondering, yes, it was entirely as noxious as it probably sounds.
The good thing about this of course is that it lessens to zero any potential 'gateway' likelihood the move might have latently had, to get me swigging down buckets of sugar and fat in frappucino form. In fact if anything, it acted entirely in the opposite direction, to make me stick to what I know and what can be calorifically controlled.
Didn't go walking this morning - didn't get in till close to midnight last night and this morning my legs were spasming and rubbery. Oh, I should say - after this yoghurtastrophe, I had a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich on Tonbridge station, and a small packet of nuts en route from Paddington to Cardiff, along with several more regular coffees.
And peculiarly, despite it being a day of no particular exercise and an awful lot of sitting on trains, managed to achieve my Gestapo Phone's demanded 10,000 steps.
So - today no walking early, though I haven't yet given up on the idea of going walking this evening. So far today, just the regulation three Weetabix with semi-skimmed and one large mug of coffee, also semi-skimmed.
The odd thing really is that today feels like Tuesday because I only normally travel cross country on a Monday for the UberCommute. Am going for one of those next Wednesday too, to by a week today, I probably won't know what day, month or year it is. Still, as long as the flesh keeps Disappearing...
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
The Quesadilla Determination
Now...follow me here, I'm about to turn my brain inside out to ensure Things Are All Alright.
As you'll know, since I restarted the Disappearing Man effort in serious earnest some weeks ago, I have been doing three weigh-ins a day every Tuesday - one pre-bathroom, pre-walk, one pre-bathroom post-walk, and one post-bathroom, post-walk.
Quite why I've been doing this is a bit of a mystery, because I always then end up taking the first figure as the official weigh-in for the week. Of course, my pal Wendy thinks I just have a bit of a weighing fetish. I refuse to justify such an idea with a refutation, just in case it turns out to be actually irrefutable.
Today though, I'm forced to consider the wisdom or otherwise of knowingly taking a weight that is recorded before nature and digestion have had a chance to even my metabolic paying field. I'm forced to do so by quesadillas.
Last night, for dinner, d made quesadillas. You're probably familiar with them - toasted tortilla sandwiches, in essence. Gorgeous little beasts, but very moreish. I took perhaps rather too many more, before going to bed.
So when I weighed in this morning, pre-everything, I recorded 18st 3.25. Down just 1.5lb on last week.
Went walking, and weighed in again, this time at 18st 2lb.
When finally moved by the passage of time to use the bathroom, I did my third weigh-in, and was down to 18st 1.5lb. So - if we assume that the 1.25lb that disappeared on the walk is not a genuine or representative loss, but the half-pound from the bathroom was definitely no longer part of me, then I lost my regulation two pounds this week.
But am I going to assume such a thing?
No. That way, mathematical madness lies. What I have learned today - or re-learned, rather, as I used to know it before - is the importance of what one eats on a Monday night in terms of one's calculations (or indeed machinations) on a Tuesday morning. I'm fighting every sneaky instinct in my own brain that says "Hmm, that means you could cut yourself some slack for some of the week, then starve yourself on Mondays..."
Sigh - sometimes my brain just needs a good slap. The truth, quesadillas or no quesadillas, is that today's like-for-like weigh-in has me only 1.5lb down on last week, at 18st 3.25. And on we go. Still means that I'm on target to see a 17 two weeks from today. I look forward to that day with what might be described as a lively anticipation.
Odd day tomorrow. My friend Sian has a Mother. Not a mother, you understand, a Mother. One of those maternal powerhouses that imprint their personality on a whole generation of friends, and who retains, even into the adulthood of those friends, a sense of "Do not under any circumstances fuck with me". She appears to be really rather unwell, and has been taken into hospital. Which, given her general squeezy bollockhold on the life-force is worrying enough to have me taking a day's leave and taking off across the country - to Tunbridge Bloody Wells of all places - to see her. Essentially, it's a London Ubercommute day...with knobs on. Much Starbucks on the way, I feel...
As you'll know, since I restarted the Disappearing Man effort in serious earnest some weeks ago, I have been doing three weigh-ins a day every Tuesday - one pre-bathroom, pre-walk, one pre-bathroom post-walk, and one post-bathroom, post-walk.
Quite why I've been doing this is a bit of a mystery, because I always then end up taking the first figure as the official weigh-in for the week. Of course, my pal Wendy thinks I just have a bit of a weighing fetish. I refuse to justify such an idea with a refutation, just in case it turns out to be actually irrefutable.
Today though, I'm forced to consider the wisdom or otherwise of knowingly taking a weight that is recorded before nature and digestion have had a chance to even my metabolic paying field. I'm forced to do so by quesadillas.
Last night, for dinner, d made quesadillas. You're probably familiar with them - toasted tortilla sandwiches, in essence. Gorgeous little beasts, but very moreish. I took perhaps rather too many more, before going to bed.
So when I weighed in this morning, pre-everything, I recorded 18st 3.25. Down just 1.5lb on last week.
Went walking, and weighed in again, this time at 18st 2lb.
When finally moved by the passage of time to use the bathroom, I did my third weigh-in, and was down to 18st 1.5lb. So - if we assume that the 1.25lb that disappeared on the walk is not a genuine or representative loss, but the half-pound from the bathroom was definitely no longer part of me, then I lost my regulation two pounds this week.
But am I going to assume such a thing?
No. That way, mathematical madness lies. What I have learned today - or re-learned, rather, as I used to know it before - is the importance of what one eats on a Monday night in terms of one's calculations (or indeed machinations) on a Tuesday morning. I'm fighting every sneaky instinct in my own brain that says "Hmm, that means you could cut yourself some slack for some of the week, then starve yourself on Mondays..."
Sigh - sometimes my brain just needs a good slap. The truth, quesadillas or no quesadillas, is that today's like-for-like weigh-in has me only 1.5lb down on last week, at 18st 3.25. And on we go. Still means that I'm on target to see a 17 two weeks from today. I look forward to that day with what might be described as a lively anticipation.
Odd day tomorrow. My friend Sian has a Mother. Not a mother, you understand, a Mother. One of those maternal powerhouses that imprint their personality on a whole generation of friends, and who retains, even into the adulthood of those friends, a sense of "Do not under any circumstances fuck with me". She appears to be really rather unwell, and has been taken into hospital. Which, given her general squeezy bollockhold on the life-force is worrying enough to have me taking a day's leave and taking off across the country - to Tunbridge Bloody Wells of all places - to see her. Essentially, it's a London Ubercommute day...with knobs on. Much Starbucks on the way, I feel...
Saturday, 5 July 2014
Enter The Drag-On
Was determined to have a lie-in this morning. Then at precisely 8.04, a bunch of inconsiderate bastards decided to drill through my skull.
To be fair, it wasn't just my skull. The rampantly idiotic building program that's taking place right opposite our flat is essentially a pain in the ass of everyone in Merthyr. The truth though is that it doesn't wake everyone up. Just those of us cursed to live opposite it. I tried turning my deaf ear to it for ten minutes, then grumpily punched a pillow and got up. d somehow managed to sleep through it.
I was under no obligation to go and walk this morning, and honestly, I faffed around for an hour or so on the computer, feeling sleepy and heavy and in no respect like I wanted to drag my ass down the Trail... before finally making my mind up to do it anyway.
This dragging-on of the self in spite of freedom and a lack of actual desire rings a bell or two - there were plenty of mornings when we lived in London where I just simply didn't want to get out of bed at unff o'clock and do this stuff - and then ended up doing it just the same.
So went, walked, came back...spent much of the rest of the day editing and occasionally bitching about various aches and pains.
Food today - three Weetabix, semi-skimmed
Two pieces of white toast, scrambled egg, large coffee.
Spaghetti and meatballs for dinner (yes, carb, though eaten at a reasonable 7pm).
Tomorrow, walking again at 8am. Haven't weighed since Tuesday, so have no idea what's happening in that domain. Can only trust I'm still doing enough to have lost my weekly 2lb - if so, I'll see 18st 2.75lb. That'll feel pretty good, but I'm still waiting for a true Rubicon at 17st 13lb in a couple of weeks. Still haven't got back on the exercise bike, oddly enough. That really should change.
Maybe tomorrow...
To be fair, it wasn't just my skull. The rampantly idiotic building program that's taking place right opposite our flat is essentially a pain in the ass of everyone in Merthyr. The truth though is that it doesn't wake everyone up. Just those of us cursed to live opposite it. I tried turning my deaf ear to it for ten minutes, then grumpily punched a pillow and got up. d somehow managed to sleep through it.
I was under no obligation to go and walk this morning, and honestly, I faffed around for an hour or so on the computer, feeling sleepy and heavy and in no respect like I wanted to drag my ass down the Trail... before finally making my mind up to do it anyway.
This dragging-on of the self in spite of freedom and a lack of actual desire rings a bell or two - there were plenty of mornings when we lived in London where I just simply didn't want to get out of bed at unff o'clock and do this stuff - and then ended up doing it just the same.
So went, walked, came back...spent much of the rest of the day editing and occasionally bitching about various aches and pains.
Food today - three Weetabix, semi-skimmed
Two pieces of white toast, scrambled egg, large coffee.
Spaghetti and meatballs for dinner (yes, carb, though eaten at a reasonable 7pm).
Tomorrow, walking again at 8am. Haven't weighed since Tuesday, so have no idea what's happening in that domain. Can only trust I'm still doing enough to have lost my weekly 2lb - if so, I'll see 18st 2.75lb. That'll feel pretty good, but I'm still waiting for a true Rubicon at 17st 13lb in a couple of weeks. Still haven't got back on the exercise bike, oddly enough. That really should change.
Maybe tomorrow...
Friday, 4 July 2014
The Nutterball
Weird start this morning. Ma had prophesied (some would say forecast - but only if they didn't know Ma) torrential rain this morning, so we'd agreed not to go walking together. Nevertheless I woke up naturally at 6.20, an figured, given the absence of the sounds of torrential rain, I'd get up and go anyway. I switched off the 6.30 alarm, thinking "I'lllllgetupinaminute...."
Needless to say, I woke again with rathr more of a start at 6.50. Got quickly dressed, went downstairs to turn on my phone and texted Ma that I'd slept late, just as she was texting me to say she'd slept late but we could go walking if I wanted.
We did, but not our normal route down the Trail. This morning we took a circuitous and largely uphill route to Costa on a whim (a rather bittersweet decision, I should say - I'd been planning to meet Rebecca there at 8, but cried off because I was going to be walking down the Trail at that time!)
Only burned about 400 calories that way, then had a medium decaff skinny latte which replenished abut 150 of them. With the addition of my usual three Weetabix with semi-skimmed and a large coffee when I got home, I could pretty much have forgone breakfast an stayed in bed for two hours. The calorific impact would have been the same.
Lunch was yesterday's dinner leftovers - chicken and rice - again, carbs. And today throughout the day I've had handfuls of mixed nuts, which with one thing and another are probably not the healthiest or most advisable of metabolic boosters.
The result is that tonight I feel underexercised and bloated and flabby, like a butterball...but made of nuts. A nutterball, I suppose.
Now the sensible among you will say "Well, get on your bike, lardass!"
And I might, still, but I have to tell you, I've been pretty much exhauste ever since coming back from this morning's wak. Actually went back to bed from 10.30-11.30 (taking an early lunch break), because I couldn't keep my eyes open. Didn't feel like a diabetic thing, just...unff...
We'll see. The bike might rescue me from this feeling. Orrrrr it might not. Let you know tomorrow.
Oh, Happy Indepence Day to all my American friends, by the way.
Needless to say, I woke again with rathr more of a start at 6.50. Got quickly dressed, went downstairs to turn on my phone and texted Ma that I'd slept late, just as she was texting me to say she'd slept late but we could go walking if I wanted.
We did, but not our normal route down the Trail. This morning we took a circuitous and largely uphill route to Costa on a whim (a rather bittersweet decision, I should say - I'd been planning to meet Rebecca there at 8, but cried off because I was going to be walking down the Trail at that time!)
Only burned about 400 calories that way, then had a medium decaff skinny latte which replenished abut 150 of them. With the addition of my usual three Weetabix with semi-skimmed and a large coffee when I got home, I could pretty much have forgone breakfast an stayed in bed for two hours. The calorific impact would have been the same.
Lunch was yesterday's dinner leftovers - chicken and rice - again, carbs. And today throughout the day I've had handfuls of mixed nuts, which with one thing and another are probably not the healthiest or most advisable of metabolic boosters.
The result is that tonight I feel underexercised and bloated and flabby, like a butterball...but made of nuts. A nutterball, I suppose.
Now the sensible among you will say "Well, get on your bike, lardass!"
And I might, still, but I have to tell you, I've been pretty much exhauste ever since coming back from this morning's wak. Actually went back to bed from 10.30-11.30 (taking an early lunch break), because I couldn't keep my eyes open. Didn't feel like a diabetic thing, just...unff...
We'll see. The bike might rescue me from this feeling. Orrrrr it might not. Let you know tomorrow.
Oh, Happy Indepence Day to all my American friends, by the way.
Wednesday, 2 July 2014
The Bubble Expansion
I say - the oddest thing is happening.
Reasonably regular readers will remember that recently I declared a bubble in my perspex walls (the mental construct that allows me to exercise discipline and not eat everything in the entire world), which allowed me a cold liquid option in Starbucks during the summer. Normally, I'd regard these as basically liquid desserts, but by getting them to take every conceivable calorie and gram of fun out of a frappucino, I convinced myself that I could actually drink them without imperilling my control. And so it has proved - I have one or two cold ones when I go to spend a day in Starbucks now, and have no problem with that. My discipline remains strong, my routine of exercise remains unchallenged, and I don't feel like diving into the nearest cheesecake as a result of having a "liquid dessert" - the logic that used to connect one to the other appears to have been at least partially quelled.
Well, today things have gone a degree further - a bubble expansion, if you will.
The staff at my particular Starbucks all now pretty much know me. the head honcho there even occasionally passes me stuff that's due to be chucked out if I can make use of it - sachets of instant, packets of beans for grinding, that sort of thing.
Today she handed me a dessert.
Well, it could be seen as a dessert. Yoghurt, compote and granola - that's pretty desserty if you think about it. I read the calorific information - about 300, since you ask - realised I'd walked six miles this morning, and then checked my decision-making paradigm. Was this not the thin end of the wedge? Was it not the top of the slippery slope into secret lunch time chippy trips and head-first dives into the Hagen Daz?
It really doesn't seem to be. It was a thing - I treated it as lunch and moved the fuck on. Even now, some hours later, I'm not connecting it with desserts and desires. It's as if there's a wall that won't let the usual demented logic connect in my brain.
Firstly, we like this. We like this a lot, because the Demented Disappearer is frankly a pain in everybody's ass. And secondly - on we go. Depending on the weather, going to either walk again in the morning or head to the gym. Still haven't wrecked my calorie count for the day, and don't intend to now I'm home, and we move the hell along. Am I going to crave the same thing next time I go to Starbucks? Don't think so - didn't crave it today. Obviously, I'll let you know if that changes, but certainly at the moment I'm just focusing on losing my 2lb by Tuesday, to take me down to 18st 2.75.
The interesting thing is I said this not long before having the fish and chips, back in March 2012 that began my slide back into old and dangerous habits. Let's see if the Bubble Expansion and the Logic Block remains, shall we?
Reasonably regular readers will remember that recently I declared a bubble in my perspex walls (the mental construct that allows me to exercise discipline and not eat everything in the entire world), which allowed me a cold liquid option in Starbucks during the summer. Normally, I'd regard these as basically liquid desserts, but by getting them to take every conceivable calorie and gram of fun out of a frappucino, I convinced myself that I could actually drink them without imperilling my control. And so it has proved - I have one or two cold ones when I go to spend a day in Starbucks now, and have no problem with that. My discipline remains strong, my routine of exercise remains unchallenged, and I don't feel like diving into the nearest cheesecake as a result of having a "liquid dessert" - the logic that used to connect one to the other appears to have been at least partially quelled.
Well, today things have gone a degree further - a bubble expansion, if you will.
The staff at my particular Starbucks all now pretty much know me. the head honcho there even occasionally passes me stuff that's due to be chucked out if I can make use of it - sachets of instant, packets of beans for grinding, that sort of thing.
Today she handed me a dessert.
Well, it could be seen as a dessert. Yoghurt, compote and granola - that's pretty desserty if you think about it. I read the calorific information - about 300, since you ask - realised I'd walked six miles this morning, and then checked my decision-making paradigm. Was this not the thin end of the wedge? Was it not the top of the slippery slope into secret lunch time chippy trips and head-first dives into the Hagen Daz?
It really doesn't seem to be. It was a thing - I treated it as lunch and moved the fuck on. Even now, some hours later, I'm not connecting it with desserts and desires. It's as if there's a wall that won't let the usual demented logic connect in my brain.
Firstly, we like this. We like this a lot, because the Demented Disappearer is frankly a pain in everybody's ass. And secondly - on we go. Depending on the weather, going to either walk again in the morning or head to the gym. Still haven't wrecked my calorie count for the day, and don't intend to now I'm home, and we move the hell along. Am I going to crave the same thing next time I go to Starbucks? Don't think so - didn't crave it today. Obviously, I'll let you know if that changes, but certainly at the moment I'm just focusing on losing my 2lb by Tuesday, to take me down to 18st 2.75.
The interesting thing is I said this not long before having the fish and chips, back in March 2012 that began my slide back into old and dangerous habits. Let's see if the Bubble Expansion and the Logic Block remains, shall we?
Tuesday, 1 July 2014
The Scales of Obsession
"You do make me laugh."
"Erm...good. I guess. Erm...why?"
Conversations occasionally go this way with Wendy. I'm sometimes not sure what it is I've said that makes her laugh, but I'm quite happy to take it when it happens.
"You just loooooove weighing yourself," she explained.
"Nonsense, only the once a week. Well, three times, but..."
"Exxxxactly. Point to me, I think."
Rassen frassen grrrrr...
To be fair, the three weigh-ins were all done today - and in line with a precedent set last week. Weigh-in first thing in the morning, pre-walk, and pre-bathroom. Weigh-in post-walk and pre-bathroom, to discount the amount lost as water on a six mile walk from the equation. Then weigh-in post-bathroom to measure for...well, weight that isn't part of the equation any more either.
The first weigh-in of the day - the one I ended up using last week - showed me down my regulation 2lb this morning to: 18st 4.75. Happy to take that as my official weigh-in for the day. Just for the sake of completeness, though, and (cough) since I have the data, post-walk, pre-bathroom - 18st 2.5. Post-everything, 18st 2.
So now the disparity in the weigh-ins has a potential impact, in that it amounts to a week's worth of work (or, as my brain insists on thinking about it, a get-out clause), from beginning to end.
Lalalalalalalalala - not thinking about it that way, just continuing to do the good things, keeping the bad things to a minimum, and hoping for 2lb per week. So, on the record, next week I want to be 18st 2,75 BEFORE everything.
More home-made pasta tonight for dinner (other food - three Weetabix, semi-skimmed, three coffees, large, two slices toast with scrambled egg, two handfuls of assorted nuts throughout the day, four plums, one apple, one small pack of cashews and cranberries - 100 calories - so, quite a lot, but reasonable and spread throughout the day to keep the metabolism running).
Tomorrow, doing the walk again, then doing a Starbucks editing day. And so another week begins. So far, I've managed to keep on schedule for the first three weeks. This week, I might have more time on my hands, so might even start trying to work a walk and a bike session into each day...see what that does.
"Erm...good. I guess. Erm...why?"
Conversations occasionally go this way with Wendy. I'm sometimes not sure what it is I've said that makes her laugh, but I'm quite happy to take it when it happens.
"You just loooooove weighing yourself," she explained.
"Nonsense, only the once a week. Well, three times, but..."
"Exxxxactly. Point to me, I think."
Rassen frassen grrrrr...
To be fair, the three weigh-ins were all done today - and in line with a precedent set last week. Weigh-in first thing in the morning, pre-walk, and pre-bathroom. Weigh-in post-walk and pre-bathroom, to discount the amount lost as water on a six mile walk from the equation. Then weigh-in post-bathroom to measure for...well, weight that isn't part of the equation any more either.
The first weigh-in of the day - the one I ended up using last week - showed me down my regulation 2lb this morning to: 18st 4.75. Happy to take that as my official weigh-in for the day. Just for the sake of completeness, though, and (cough) since I have the data, post-walk, pre-bathroom - 18st 2.5. Post-everything, 18st 2.
So now the disparity in the weigh-ins has a potential impact, in that it amounts to a week's worth of work (or, as my brain insists on thinking about it, a get-out clause), from beginning to end.
Lalalalalalalalala - not thinking about it that way, just continuing to do the good things, keeping the bad things to a minimum, and hoping for 2lb per week. So, on the record, next week I want to be 18st 2,75 BEFORE everything.
More home-made pasta tonight for dinner (other food - three Weetabix, semi-skimmed, three coffees, large, two slices toast with scrambled egg, two handfuls of assorted nuts throughout the day, four plums, one apple, one small pack of cashews and cranberries - 100 calories - so, quite a lot, but reasonable and spread throughout the day to keep the metabolism running).
Tomorrow, doing the walk again, then doing a Starbucks editing day. And so another week begins. So far, I've managed to keep on schedule for the first three weeks. This week, I might have more time on my hands, so might even start trying to work a walk and a bike session into each day...see what that does.
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