How Structured Are Your Days?

Well, somewhere along the way, I've lost weight. Three pounds to be precise (or not very precise actually as I don't own a digital scale.) I feel lighter, and strangely, my shoes feel looser! I blog but like my scale I don't tend to do detail as far as weight loss goes. In fact, one day last week I lost my scale. It was hidden under a pile of fresh laundry I'd dumped in my bedroom. I have to say, I didn't start frantically searching for it! :)

I am not sure that I get much of a thrill from seeing the number go down. To my mind, jumping on a scale too often indicates a preoccupation with weight loss...and being preoccupied with what I eat and how I move does make me a bit irritable. It just doesn't seem natural. I have spent nearly half a century without being overly concerned with my weight. I'd rather not be conscious of it all, even though I am aware that it's my aim to get some of this fat off my frame. In truth, it was all the hospital weigh-ins that I had so frequently in 2006, 2007, 2008 and 2009 which made me aware that my weight had crept up to an all-time high. (I was bed and house-bound and in pain for much of that time, so it's not surprising, but it's incredible how lack of movement can change a body so much!) Then, one Doctor mentioned heart-attacks and strokes because I was over-weight, and as my Mum used to say, "That put the willies up me!" (It was an innocent saying. I am sure there was no rude intention :) Mum never ever made reference to sexual stuff!)

Now, when did I last record my weight? I am not sure. Go back a few weeks may be? I know some people keep spread sheets and detailed records. I don't like that sort of detail. We are all different. I think my main preoccupation is that life goes on and it will not be governed by the food in front of me or the choices I have to make...nor will gym sessions be something I feel obliged to do. I have to eat and move..move lots more..and be aware that I need to lose weight...so choices have to be sensible. As I have said before, a restrictive diet and 'forbidden foods' will be my un-doing. The process has to be as natural as possible  - and you may have noticed that my progress isn't exactly speedy. I am OK with that I think. (Some days I want instant results...on others I just shrug.)

I do have all sorts of mental battles raging though, and I want to eliminate those as well. I am good at guilt-tripping myself...."I ought to, I should, I really mustn't ...etc" still figure quite largely in mental conversations with myself. I know I am capable of saying "To hell with this!" and eating all before me and not caring. I know I am not as careful as I should be when I eat out, but I want to find inner peace too. I want this weight-loss process to feel perfectly natural...and not a plan of action forever at the front of my consciousness, which I can either adopt or neglect.

If I could, I'd turn the clock back to the days when I was 'average sized' - not fat but not thin. I had a frame with flesh on it, but no bulges or spare tyres of fat. I had one firm chin, and no bat-wings below my upper arms. Then I was always rushing about. I didn't do formal exercise, ever, apart from swimming for pleasure when we went on holiday. I'd walk everywhere and not spend the hours sitting at a computer as I do now, because home computers just weren't around! I lived in the days before televisions had remote controls! I didn't pass my driving test until I was 35, so I pushed my babies everywhere in their buggies. We walked for miles. I was much more house-proud then (energy begets energy?) and I tackled the garden with gusto too. I am older now, but back then I didn't tire easily and the days were always busy. Now, I could be busy but I seem to have no motivation to be busy just for the sake of it. Does that make sense? Having too much spare time and no money can be counter-productive to those trying to lose weight! Food punctuates the long days unless I take myself away from the kitchen and the house. I know just where and how the weight piled on and now I have to reverse that process, but I am finding it hard to do other things, given my main passions are reading and writing!

Now my days are what I make them. They have very little structure. I have to create a structure or I could idle about all day. I don't have set times to do anything, except get up out of bed in the morning. Nothing is urgent any more, and with more leisure time I ought to be able to devote time to me..but....I have never been the sort of woman who went in for pampering or beauty treatments. I still hate visiting the hairdressers and making small-talk. Oh I can do it - I am very chatty, but I'd rather not be stuck in a chair and feeling obliged to discuss my weekend plans.

Son is home to keep me company. I was up bright and early as usual, listening to the radio, ironing shirts and making a packed lunch for son..(turkey sandwiches using wholemeal bread, a small box of salad, an apple, a banana, a small bunch of grapes and a cereal bar) and once number one son was out of the house I made breakfast for me and son no 2. I had mine, at 8am, in my dressing gown, with a pot of tea, watching re-runs of Frasier on TV! Bliss! I am lucky in so many ways and something that still holds so much pleasure for me is not having to rush out of the house at the crack of dawn, to drive in rush-hour traffic to a demanding job. The novelty still hasn't worn off,  after five years at home.

However, the day stretches out before me, and I have to structure it. I could set aside time for exercise, but in doing that I'd feel put out, grumpy.....angry that it has to be done. No...I do it when the feeling takes me, which I know is wrong, wrong wrong...but the feeling can come over me at any time. I'll find myself jogging on the spot whilst the kettle boils for tea, or doing overhead stretches while I listen to the radio and wait for the bread in the toaster to pop out. I have movement on my mind and even tiny spurts of it seem to invigorate this woman with a hatred of formal exercise sessions! :)

Although there are many jobs around the house demanding attention, I never feel inclined to do them! I really could laze my day away, but I'd be doing myself no favours. I need a boss! :)

Oh well, I am off out for a walk. I have done my computing for today and my writing too. I have a "Get Well Soon" card to buy for a friend in London, some medication to pick up for son just out of hospital and a couple of letters to post. I shall walk to the Post Office to buy stamps and take a long detour back home over the fields. There is a huge lake there and I'll take some crusts of bread to feed to the ducks and swans. I really ought to take my camera out with me when I walk. I love looking at pictures posted by other bloggers.

Just hope it doesn't rain! It's looking very overcast out there!

Wherever you are, I hope your day is going well and isn't too pressured.

Problems? What Problems?

Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has plenty; not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some ~ Charles Dickens.

I am not sure what to call this post. All I know is, when life comes along and pushes me over, I never want to eat. Worries consume me and I pick at food. Meals hold no joy for me. (Oh don't get me wrong. When I am bored or just feeling discontented or 'bleugh' I keep going into the kitchen looking for food. I can eat then to relieve my boredom.)

Food. It's a bugger, isn't it? We need it. We have to get our nutrients from somewhere, so in a sense, it's our fuel. A starving person - one without the 'fuel' which is readily available to us - isn't likely to be rushing around or agitated. Sigh. When I write things like that I immediately have the mental pictures of men, women and children who are bags of bones, with such sad, blank expressions on their faces - looks of hopelessness. All they can do is look without interest or curiosity at the prying cameras filming them, and I am fighting back the tears now.

It seems so selfish and self-obsessed to be writing about my conflict with food, my greed, my fatness when food isn't available to so many people. All they can do is sit and wait for compassion, for aid, when really, I am sure they'd rather be farming, producing their own foods and living in a world which is fair, where they can barter for the things they need...where medical intervention is readily available.

My own son has been in hospital this week and it was painful for me knowing he was sick. He was taken back in on Friday night and given huge doses of antibiotics and put on drips so that he wouldn't dehydrate. A fan was placed by his bed to cool him down and he was given medication to get his temperature down.

How it cuts me up when my children suffer in any way. The parent trap is always there isn't it? Kids worry about their elderly parents too. Parents worry about their children until their dying day, I am sure. How much harder must it be for those parents sitting on the parched earth, and waiting for aid, cradling their starving children and watching them slowly lose their fight for life? Those children have no parental guidance or love...just existence and the people around them who produced them, slowly fading, withering away. Life holds no joy for anyone. They haven't the energy to wail or cry out about the unfairness of it all...they can only wait and accept the inevitable.

It's an unfair world and I know individuals cannot shoulder all the ills of it or take on the global guilt, but occasionally we do need a jolt of reality to help put things into perspective.

Yesterday I walked the few miles to the hospital. I have no car right now and don't like waiting for buses so it became my exercise for the day. (Every cloud has a silver lining.) At least I didn't have to walk to the well for clean, drinkable water. I brought my son fresh clothes, a toilet bag, a magazine, some grapes, some bananas and a bottle of orange juice. In hospital he was well fed and well looked after. I could leave knowing he was in a good place. My man took me out for dinner later on and all I could do was play with the food on my plate. My mind was elsewhere, wishing I could mend my son. I didn't want wine - fizzy water was all I needed to quench my real thirst. Things were turning over in my head. I thought in the grand scheme of things, my trying to lose weight wasn't exactly a major event. It really didn't deserve to preoccupy me as it has been doing. It's no big deal really. I either lose it or live with it...and I have a choice.

In many ways, I ought to rejoice that I have fat on my body..that the fat I carry can be lost, broken down, used up. I have eyes to see, ears to hear and a body which works -  although it's not 100% good in terms of chronic complaints which need medication. It all works. I also have a good working brain. I have shelter, clean water and a supermarket down the road selling all the foods I need. My doctor's surgery is half an hours walk in the other direction. I am typing this in the comfort of my own home. I have a computer and can access places far away in the world. I can communicate with fat people globally and we can tell each other how we struggle. I can gain inspiration from people who have lost weight. We may have enormous bodies...(or ones bigger than we'd like to have) but our problems, when put into perspective are usually far from enormous.

My son came home at lunchtime today. I walked down to the hospital with my other son to collect him and we took a taxi home. (Apparently the risk of catching the MRSA bug is always a concern of late so turnover of patients is quite fast.) He is home and I can nurse him here. He'll mend.

So today I am saying - forget your fat. Stop obsessing about your weight, your shape, your food, your exercise routine. It doesn't really matter. Just do it..or don't do it. Go through the motions or choose not to, but don't make it a bigger deal than it really is.

I have said it before, and I'll say it again. We are bloody lucky if one of our major hang-ups is our shape...if we have grown big because we have eaten too much and lounged around too much.

Charles Dickens above wisely stated that we've all had misfortunes. It's part and parcel of living. Some have easier lives than others. Some will continue to struggle, some will overcome problems. Times change, life goes on - or it ends. In blogging my main preoccupation is finding the motivation to be true to the cause...and the cause in this case is losing weight. How silly is it that a reading on the scale can make me miserable? Really. Does it matter THAT much?

I tend not to think too much about the health of my boys...counting every day in which they are well and have gone about their business as good days. There are more good ones than bad ones. They really are my big worries...(show me a mother who doesn't worry) and when days are good, worry is a wasted emotion. It solves nothing and doesn't change the situation. I consciously refuse to worry.

Perhaps that's why in my blogging I seem a bit blasé about the whole 'losing weight' deal. I am not sure how much it matters to me. Having said that, I know it's a health issue, and being responsible for my well-being is what keeps me going.

I am sure we all have our problems...and some of you may be suffering in a big way. I wish you well and hope you find peace soon. Life can be cruel. However, if today is just another day and there is nothing pressing on your mind to cause you to fret and worry, count your blessings and enjoy your day. Do something with it.

I count my blessings...and when I do I gain some perspective. There is lots wrong in my life, but heck of a lot which is right, and on the whole, my problems are minor ones, or at least ones I can live with. I can also lose my fat and change my shape should I choose to. I am blessed to have that option really.

Have a good day folks. Look for all the good in your life. Live for the day. It really does help.

Highs and Lows and Losing the Momentum, etc.

Morning all. Something which features quite a lot in my blog writing is my changing moods/attitudes.
On some days I am all fired up and willing to keep working on myself, on others I want to throw in the towel and find it all too much like hard work.

Oh those mood swings. I hasten to add they are all internal. I tend to be fairly laid back in my dealings with the world and other people. No mood swings in relationships as such...just these internal memos to myself which are sometimes negative. I just don't seem able to use the good results of watching what I eat and moving more to motivate myself to carry on. I read other blogs and I discern determination, fortitude, stamina, positivity, get-up-and-go and success.

Is it an age thing I wonder? Has my cynicism about the diet industry as a whole and how it messes with our heads wormed it's way into my own plans for losing weight and becoming healthier? I know deep down I don't want to be fat any more. That's a fact. I feel fat and I see myself as fat. I can make myself miserable because of it. (That's not self-loathing either...I just don't play 'positive at any cost' mind games with myself.)

OK, so feeling down about being fat and middle aged - what should I do? The educated woman in me says accept yourself as you are, and then you have a choice. You can moan about it and carry on not really liking your body much, or you can work towards finding a solution to this problem. The solution is to look after myself better, to care about myself and to practice self-love, and I do that by planning every single meal, and gearing myself up to get out of the house, simply to move.

Sounds like a simple plan and a sensible plan...and it sounds like the recipe for success. It would be IF I could keep myself charged up with enthusiasm for it! (Isn't this a common problem? I suspect it is.)

THAT is the problem. My enthusiasm wanes...and I know why it does too I think. My enthusiasm wanes because happenings in my life suck it out of me...deplete my 'enthusiasm' and mess with the internal drive to look after myself better. If I were a computer I'd be broken because a virus has wormed it's way in and it's preventing the machine from operating properly.

In the space of five days I have gone from feeling on top of the world to being the woman at the bottom of the mountain looking up. I have become the reluctant climber. My back-pack weighs heavy and the mountain I have to climb looks enormous. I can try to climb it or find the group of people messing about in base camp.

At the weekend I was carefree. I was surrounded by friends, adventures, activity, hustle and bustle and I fully engaged in all that was going on without even thinking about it. I felt some guilt because I didn't concentrate 100% on making healthy food choices, although I didn't go mad or consume a vast amount of food. On the days that followed I felt fired up to be outside, moving and doing and eating well. So where has that feeling gone?

Today all I want to do is laze about...eat anything I want to and have no pressure on me at all, no one wanting me or needing me to do anything. The house is a mess and I don't even want to clean it up. Niggling guilt is getting to me as well. I feel 'it's all too much' and my welfare is low on my list of priorities. Know what I mean?

For the last three days I have been nursemaid to one of my sons who has been very ill. He spent a night in hospital, has antibiotics and at home he has lost his appetite and need lots of painkillers. OK, so I can cope with that....I have done when it's happened in the last 23 years. It's nothing new. Both my boys have medical conditions which can be exacerbated when they become ill. That's life and I have to get on with it, but now I am older those sucker punches knock me out, deflate me..make me want to sit and dwell on all that is unfair. He's over the worst now. I haven't turned to food, but then again, I haven't planned meals or activity either. I have mooched about feeling fed up and thinking "Why bother?" Last night my daughter and my man were going to come to dinner and I cancelled it. I just didn't want to cook or entertain.

It's like I have to wind myself up time and time again before I can operate well. I wind down and (if we want yet another metaphor,) I am like a top which has stopped spinning and has toppled to it's side.
Writing about it has helped, so if you've read this far, thanks. I am not sure if life affects us all in this way, draining us when it becomes difficult (as it surely will.)

So...in conclusion I'd say when life is good and fun we get involved and enjoy ourselves.

When life becomes difficult most of us are able to keep going and work through it, but it saps our enthusiasm for self-care and for lots of things, no matter how 'strong' we are, how resilient we are. (I exclude clinical depression here. That's a different ball-game usually needing medical intervention, drugs and counselling etc.)

When life just 'is' - ie: normal, not good, not bad, just everyday, we get on with what we have to do and don't think about it too much. We trudge on, seeing to our duties and our routine is in place. We have a life plan regarding eating and exercise and we follow it, experiencing the occasional blip, but for the most part we stay on course because we can focus some of our attention on ourselves.

Life will always have highs and lows. That's how it works...Having written this, I appreciate that we all need to have resources of self-love that we can call on when times are difficult. It shouldn't mean an end to looking after ourselves, or a lack of effort on our behalf, or indeed the throwing in of the towel.

Bad times don't hang around forever. That's all I know. I have had lots and lots of them, probably more than my fair share, but so far, I have weathered the storms. That's what we have to do I conclude. We have to go with the flow, recognising the good and the bad and sit it out if necessary. We don't always have to be 100% on plan. It's natural to have OFF days. We won't always be able to operate at peak performance and that is OK. It doesn't mean that our plans for ourselves have been destroyed. It may take a while, a very long time before we bounce back, but that's fine too. The clouds lift eventually and we have to remember that. We matter.

Hmmm. Message to myself: Thank you Grump. You've just talked (written) yourself into a better mood because you've dredged up some understanding about how you, (and perhaps most bloggers here?) function when life isn't a barrel of laughs.

Who says blogging isn't theraputic? :)

Onwards folks. Onwards. It's a new day. x x x

Secret Chocolate, Fat Misery.

I have had another weekend away - this time with 'the girls' - my old friends from University days, who now live in various places throughout England and like me, have aged since we were last together in the 1970s. We got together for a reunion in London and we had a great time. It was very good to catch up with them all. Facially, we all look the same as we did back then...all were easily recognisable - and it might be a sad fact, but we nattered on and laughed together as though we were still excited young women in our late teens!

I'd forgotten how busy it gets in London. Hordes of people rushing about, every pavement crowded with bodies, every street filled with cars, buses, taxis, coaches..and bicycles. And tube stations? Wow. We were like sardines packed into a can on the underground trains! It was all hustle and bustle and it was very tiring. We went to lots of places and whenever possible we walked from one tourist trap to the other, so we covered miles (and miles!) on foot. I was of course the fattest of them all. (Big sigh.) However, I was definitely as fit as they were. I climbed right up into the dome of the British Museum, where the upper galleries are, with no trouble. OK, so I was panting when I got to the top, momentarily but I took all those (marble) stairs without stopping. I enjoyed the walking too and even went off on my own for a a brisk walk through a nearby park rather than wait in an admission queue on Sunday morning. The girls laughed and reminded me we'd all done enough walking but I took myself off anyway. The sun was shining and it seemed a waste of time to be queuing up. The girls assured me they didn't mind queuing while I walked. I'd rather walk than stand still.

So with stairs (lots of them, everywhere) and almost three days of much walking I got in my 'exercise'. We had to eat too though...and we went to some fantastic restaurants and coffee shops. I can only say that I ate no more than anyone else, and because I am a slow eater, I think I left more on my plate too rather than hold them all up. I do tend to talk so I ought to concentrate on eating rather than yapping! :) Not one French fry passed my lips though, nor a burger...In fact, we didn't do fast food at all..or snacks although we did sit down mid-morning for a coffee, and some cake. We also had meal breaks in museum cafes etc, and I chose sensibly. Our evening meals were lovely and I ate sensible portions and didn't pig-out. We didn't have too many vegetables and the only fruit I had was the banana I travelled down with, (it wasn't a good companion..very quiet) and the apricots in a Turkish pudding! I had four glasses of wine over the whole weekend, so all in all, it wasn't a blow-out, in terms of eating, although it wasn't 'diet food' either.

Anyway. I have discovered that exercise begets exercise. I felt VERY tired yesterday after a busy weekend and all the walking and travelling. I was knackered in fact. I did however have the urge to get out in the fresh air. It would have been easy to have a 'duvet day' in front of the TV but I didn't. I made a shopping list and walked to the supermarket, and then with shopping bags weighed equally on both sides, walked up the long hill back home. It's very interesting that you don't see women (or men) doing the physical work of shopping any more. I was a lone walker...everyone else took their bags from their trolley and stashed the shopping in the boot of their cars. This middle aged, weighed-down woman walked back and at a reasonable pace. I quite enjoyed the outing and the incorporated 'weight-lifting'. Later, I also did half an hour on the bike whilst I watched television. Blimey! Anyone would think I was training for the Olympics! Serious stuff! ;-)

Today I gladly accepted an invitation from a friend to go for a swim. She is a member of the swanky gym I joined (and hardly used) when I was working. I do like swimming but lack the inclination to go on my own. The cost is also prohibitive. It's a luxury I just can't afford, but my friend had a guest pass, so we swam up and down, lengths and lengths of the pool and then went into the huge jacuzzi for a soak. I felt invigorated afterwards...and squeaky clean! :)

I have to get my eating in order though. Yesterday when I was sorting out clothes, I moved a box of blankets from behind the bedroom door, only to find a chocolate Easter egg, unopened, secreted inside. I always buy chocolate eggs for the youngsters I know - and my grown kids who still expect them! Last Easter I must have over-calculated how many I'd need, so stashed away a spare one. See...I can forget about hidden chocolate.

Hmm. Nice find. Would go well with a cup of tea to wash it down thought I. I didn't eat it all in one go (what a relief chocolate doesn't go off immediately because this had been there since the beginning of April!!) because I do find chocolate quite sickly. In fact, I had a nibble here, and a nibble there, and I am not sure why. It's sweetness tempted me at the time. Today there is over half a chocolate egg in the kitchen. I may keep it to have a bite now and then. I tried to think of a sweet substitute for chocolate to have instead but I found myself lured to the texture of the chocolate. Sweet meltiness....I had to tuck in.

I must be mad. It would have been easier to throw it away or to hand it over to the boys to share, but no, this was my find, my treat...my forbidden food. Fortunately I'll be able to eat it over the week...a bite here, a bite there so the damage to my calorie intake won't be massive.

No...cancel that. Last time I had a mouthful of that OLD Easter Egg the sweetness was just too cloying and over-powering. I wasn't even enjoying it!

Executive decision made. The Easter Egg is being dumped in the bin and covered with wet tea-bags and veg peelings. I shall go and throw it away now.

Job done. Egg binned. I DO want to lose this weight. I have exercised and at home I'll eat well. Why would I sabotage my own efforts?

One last thing. Today my friend emailed me and attached photos of us sitting in the cafe on Saturday morning. It was a happy time, full of laughter.

OMG. Guess who looked large and bloated? Me. Despite my hair being coloured and trimmed, and despite my wearing my best white cotton blouse and black trousers, and despite my full make-up, I looked awful. I was the token 'Big Woman'. It was nice to see my friends smiling back at me from the picture, but all I could see was the big woman with a round pink face in a white tent desperately trying to get one shoulder behind the woman to her side. Her (puffy) face was smiling but I could see the uncomfortable feelings etched on her expression and in her piggy eyes. (My eyes ARE piggy and my face is fat. I am not beating myself up. I can live with the truth.) Why did she have to be nearest to the camera? Why wasn't she half hidden by the table? Why did the stupid cafe owner taking the photograph stand near to her when he arranged us for a group shot? Would her arms arranged 'like this' cover up the fatness of her middle? Why did she have to be sitting side-on to the camera with her round fat back on display?

Hanging on to an old Easter Egg just because it's there? What's that all about? I am behaving stupidly. I have to discipline myself. THAT sort of behaviour means the day when I feel comfortable having my photograph taken remains in the distant future. Looking at that photo was PAINFUL. It took some of the gloss off the great girly weekend. On Sunday we parted, promising to get together again next year. If I am not slim by then I only have myself to blame. That's a goal which ought to be reached.

“The major reason for setting a goal is for what it makes of you to accomplish it. What it makes of you will always be the far greater value than what you get.”  ~  Jim Rohn

Me Or The Monster?

I am getting into this. You may have noticed I don't talk about my weight much - not in terms of pounds and ounces anyway. That's because I don't weigh myself very often. I don't have a weigh day. What I tend to do is step on the scale at odd moments - usually every week or so...at random times. Often I have gained weight - a pound or two...sometimes I have lost weight..so I try to make my lowest weight my new sticking point. That guides me for my next 'loss' although in between times I can gain weight too! I have an old scale, not a digital one so it's all a bit vague, and unless I am wearing my glasses I might as well not peer at the dial because I can't make out the numbers.

It's all a bit haphazard, isn't it? :) Still, it suits me. A regular weigh in and pounds gained would play games with my head.

All I know is, for the most part I am eating sensibly. I am conscious of the food around me and I tend to go for low fat, low sugar, high fibre options. I am drinking more water and I am ensuring I am more active than usual. (I have said before, now the pressure is off me I can spend my days doing nothing much at all, and nice though it is, that doesn't burn calories!) I am conscious of the times I spend just sitting (usually at the PC.) I break up these times deliberately. I'll jump on the exercise bike, run up and down the stairs several times to get my heart racing, turn up the music and dance or find a household chore to do which involves bending, stretching, moving etc. I even go out into the garden and even if I only spend ten minutes weeding/cutting/clearing/sweeping it all adds up. Often I'll walk to the supermarket or across the nearby fields and I've planned a circular route in another direction too, just to give me some walking variety. I'll jump on a bus and walk and walk and walk around the shops....spending little, moving lots. Again, I could do more. I could go for hard work-outs at the gym, but I actually HATE doing that sort of stuff, so I have avoided it..and haven't really gotten into exercise DVDs at home either. If it's labelled 'exercise' I tend to squirm. If I call it extra daily movement, I am OK. Weird, I know.

I am feeling a little bit lighter. It's a good feeling. It's been a while since I recorded my weight but another two pounds has gone. (That's two pounds in about three weeks, during which time I gained four, which I've shed, so not earth-shattering, but it's a loss and it's OK. I am not in a race..)

I have been surprising myself these last few days. Again I have been reading the thoughts of others on this weight-loss journey and some things strike me as being so apt. One of my major problems is lack of self-control around food. Not binging, but allowing myself calorific treats, often. I can have 'sensible eating' days around the treats, so I am not going off course particularly, but I am not practicing proper restraint either. My moderation is too moderate :)

I have the option of having the goody in front of me 'because I am worth it and I fancy it' or going without and choosing a low calorie alternative. I can do this, with no great trauma involved, but nine times out of ten I'll go for the treat. What if I halved the times I allowed myself the indulgence? What if the indulgence became a once a week affair? There are so many ways I can deal with 'deprivation' issues without actually feeling deprived. This is key to my plan. NOTHING is off limits. Let's face it, I have lived for over half a century. I am not sure how long I have got left but eating and enjoying food, and treats, is going to be part of my life. There is NO WAY I am spending my remaining time on earth (who knows, I could get another 40 years or more!) practising strict restraint and telling myself 'No. You can't have it.'

That is just not going to work for me.

I am sure inside every fat person there is an eating monster which has to be tamed, brought under control. Does it have to be a life-long struggle, because let me tell you, I am here to enjoy life. Having a ready-reckoner in my head forever and a day just seems so sad...

I do know that the less you indulge in favourite foods, the weaker their influence on you becomes. I also know that one simple way of ensuring I eat healthily more than I indulge is to keep indulgences out of the house. If I have one of my raging "I am hungry - what can I eat???" episodes, (more about boredom than hunger I suspect) I'll have to grab a yogurt or a banana..because there is nothing else to satisfy my sweet tooth. The feeling is sated, and passes.

I am aware that I made the mistake of buying TWO wholemeal, seeded loaves the other day because they were on special offer. One stayed out, the other I froze. The one which stayed out was HUGE. These loaves don't stay fresh for long, so I found myself snacking on it and getting through quite a bit of delicious, tasty bread, toasted...with low fat spread and honey. (Who needs doughnuts when you can have toast and honey?) That on it's own became lunch. I was aware that I could get through a whole (huge) loaf in a couple of days, so I surprised myself yesterday by going for the hummus in the fridge and dipping whole, washed carrots in it. A lazy snack, but a healthy one. The sweet crunch of the carrot involved lots of chewing, and lo and behold, afterwards I wasn't hungry and my jaw had been sufficiently exercised! I told myself, no more bread - at least not for now. I'd been busy in the garden, getting quite a good work-out cutting back shrubs, pulling up annuals, getting rid of dead looking perennial leaves etc and shredding branches and carrying the debris to the compost bin. I was tired and (really) hungry so needed a quick, easily available bite. Carrots and hummus worked for me. I washed them down with two glasses of water because I couldn't be bothered to make tea....and I felt OK and wanted nothing more. I had two dried apricot halves later in the afternoon. Today my quick stand-by is oat cakes and cottage cheese. Grab-able, edible within seconds.

Slowly, slowly my choices (and options) are becoming sensible and I am not squealing and fighting it - I am taming my eating monster and taking back control. I know I can still have treats - I intend to - but if I have lots of healthy stuff easily to hand too that will suffice. I think we make a hobby of eating...we enjoy the activity...so when I stop to indulge my hobby the monster can take over or I can be in charge. That point is crucial. A decision has to be made. Who is in control? In a split second I could reach for the poor option, so just a minute of reflection, before preparing food has me stopping in my tracks. We all know that weight loss begins in the mind.

Crucial to weight loss I think, (this is what's dawning on me) is the belief that I CAN do it. I had been feeling annoyed that I HAD to exercise control...and  I was telling myself it was OK to just eat (given that most things in the house aren't too damaging.) I can control myself despite all the urges, after all, my food shopping is so much better these days. However, I have to practice that control. Let's face it, TWO big loaves of yummy, tasty seeded bread WILL get eaten, mainly by me, if it's there for the taking. A couple of carrots with hummus or a couple of slices of toast and honey? Guess which will win unless I challenge the monster? The eating monster takes over every time. I got a kick out of winning - beating the monster to the decision-making process. Silly, but just a little self-control  felt good. I drank water afterwards and then just got on with my day. If I play my new game every time I go to eat - 'Me or the Monster' - then it seems to be working! That brute won't win and all I have to do is stop in my tracks for a few seconds to gain an advantage and the more sensible choice is just as enjoyable.

I made some vegetable soup for dinner yesterday - or for a 'quick eat' when the boys came home from work. I served it with wedges of that lovely loaf, so it's gone. Phew! Later, we had a small garlic chicken pizza each - shop bought individual ones. (Again I'd kept busy in the evening, so bunging a pizza in the oven and serving it with salad - and jacket potatoes for hungry young men - was the extent of my culinary prowess.) I was aware of the grease on top when it was cooked. I laughed as I tried that Ben Stiller thing (as in 'Along Came Polly') when I used kitchen paper to soak up the excess fat. I ate my pizza..(with salad) but left the middle bit which was a bit soggy and doughy. I also left the crusts. As they sat in front of me for a while the Monster told me I could go back and nibble at them. I decided that the left-overs might be OK to pick at, but there was a good calorie saving still on my plate  - perhaps a third of the pizza - so I got up and binned them. OK so pizza isn't a good food choice and I didn't particularly enjoy that one, but I dealt with it and minimal damage has been done. In fact, the pizza urge is satisfied for a good few months I'd say.

Every day brings new challenges and choices, but I am getting there in my own haphazard way....slowly....and life doesn't seem limited at all. Call out your monster today, and challenge him. Know that you won't be beaten.

"Every time you are tempted to react in the same old way, ask if you want to be a prisoner of the past or a pioneer of the future."  ~ Deepak Chopra

Happy?

Wow. An award...another one. (I have been awarded others before, but wasn't sure how to pick them up. I thank you so much for thinking of me. Really appreciated. You'll see not a lot award-wise is featured on my blog, purely and simply because I am still growing my technological gene and learning about linking and stuff.)

Pure serendipity at work here. Yesterday I felt misunderstood and defensive. I wrote about it and immediately afterwards I checked out some of my favourite blogs. Just when I felt like giving up - my blog writing, at least - I visited my old friends (middle aged broads, like me...although I say that with apologies to Ms M who has a few years on me and J and B) over at Two Fat Girls Take Umbrage and there they were, nominating me for a 'happy' award. There are three of them actually, and I always enjoy their blog. It's like listening in on three friends having a natter about what's going on in their lives and how they are getting on in terms of weight-loss. Go see.

Now, there is a down-side to this award. I have to tell you about ten things that make me happy! Bugger. What are they playing at? I have given my blog it's 'GRUMPY' title for a reason and now I am going to blow my cover! ; )

Lots and lots of things make me happy, believe it or not, even though I go in for a bit of self-flagellation when I write. I'll throw off my self-loathing - just for today. (*Coughs* and *winks* at readers, stupidly, for she knows that at her age such complicated multi-tasking might lead to stress incontinence.)

Here goes. I'll be in a foul mood today after being forced into doing this....mutter, mutter, grumble etc. Bah humbug.

1) The seasons. I love the way we get four distinct seasons here in the UK. We get lots of rain too, but Spring blossom, warm Summer days and blue skies, the red, golds and yellows of the trees in Autumn and the bleak, stark beauty of Winter never fail to move me. Nature is awe-inspiring.
2) My children. My best work. I adore them, even though they are no longer kids and they still give me grief in one form or another. They take my heart with them wherever they go. My man too. He is such a great bloke - we met six years ago - and he has stood by me through thick and thin, and in sickness and health. We are engaged. They make me happy. I am blessed...I know that.
3) My cat. He is ginger and totally lacking in brain cells but he is so loving and furrily friendly. I love cats.
4) The sea. I am land-locked here in Warwickshire, (God's own county) but I adore being at the water's edge, looking to the horizon. Give me a deserted beach, a good breeze and I feel at so spiritually at home.
5) Writing. I enjoy writing and write lots. Sadly my arse has become huge because I sit and indulge in this hobby - often.
6) Music. I couldn't live without music I don't think. I have eclectic tastes depending on mood. I'll weep to moving arias, sing along with the Hallelujah Chorus, feel lifted by Mendelssohn, pretend I know about mountain life when John Denver sings, jig about to Candy Man and Poker Face, step out with pretend hat and cane to Sinatra's 'New York, New York' and play air guitar to Black Sabbath and Led Zep. This I do when the kids aren't about, (I count it as a work-out) as they find their middle aged mother a complete embarrassment when she moves to music. Gits.
7) Tea. Nectar of the Gods. Served in a bone china mug. Nuff said. Hope someone is brewing up as I write...
8) Being alone. I am very gregarious but part of me NEEDS solitude. Time alone is precious...I read, think, observe, just 'be' and it's restorative. I have told man that if we buy a house together it must have an east wing for me and a west wing for him. If it doesn't, he'll be relegated to the garden shed ;-)
9) My garden. I have planted lots in it over the 28 years I have lived in this house. Every plant, bush, tree is special. It's a sun-trap too so I'll sit out and think. As I've grown larger, tending to it has become a bit of a chore. (Good reason to ensure I regain my fitness methinks.)
10) Art galleries. I used to paint, (must start again) so I enjoy looking at works of art. I like the 'feel' of galleries and museums...and bookshops. Good way to spend time.

So, there you go. Deep down inside, (despite my fat body, which has served me so well and been the 'grow-bag' for three children,) I am content. All I need is a magic wand to change one or two things, but as I know magic wands don't exist I'll carry on counting my blessings, working on changing the things I can and accepting my lot in life. It could be a whole lot worse.

Hey - make sure you do something which makes you happy today, eh? Life is fleeting and precious.

PS: I have to pass on this award too, and there are SO may bloggers I enjoy reading that picking just a few is hard. Instead, I'll cheat, and nominate The Bethany McDonald Memorial Blogroll http://memorialblogroll.blogspot.com/. Promise me you'll read a blog you haven't read before, and leave a reply of some encouragement if you can? Cheers.

Feeling Despondent.

Having read around blog-land a bit, and in particular the blog-land of those concerned with weight-loss, it would seem that I am not doing this very well. According to others I am not only a 'fat-hater' but I am 'full of self-loathing' too :(

I wasn't aware I was those things, but some people reading my words endow me with those attributes. I am shocked, I have to tell you.

I had to take a step back. Not only did I feel hurt and misunderstood, I felt slightly bewildered too.

I have said (as have thousands of people writing about their fat bodies) that I don't like the way I look. Did you like looking at your reflection or at photographs of yourself when you were at your fattest? No? Well, no surprise there. Does that mean that you are full of self-loathing and can't pick up on all that is wonderful about you too?

I also was shocked by photographs of me looking fat and lumpy. I do not like the way I look right now, nor do I like the impact my weight is having on the chronic medical conditions I have either. That's why I am trying to lose weight. Common sense dictates that it's the sensible way forward. Societal pressure and the advent of the size zero model have absolutely nothing to do with that decision. At my age (mid fifties) there is no way I intend to emulate stick-thin women, nor would I want to if I were younger.

I abhor the whole 'diet industry' (yet I am a 'fat-hater' according to some) and the rise and rise of the 'perfect woman' as depicted by those who believe realistic and informative journalism is giving us photograph after photograph of rich, wealthy and slim women with handbags which cost hundreds of pounds. Go away. Bugger right off. Vomit-inducing. Not interested.

I just want to be a healthy size, a healthy weight and to feel better about myself.

Oh...any of you out there had your confidence knocked tremendously because of your fatness?

Any of you feeling self-conscious of your rolls of fat?

Any of you made miserable by your fat shapes?

Any of you ever become slightly reclusive and less out-going because of your weight?

I'll hold my hand up. I have read such things time and time again...hundreds of times. We are all full of self-loathing apparently. I'd say we have taken stock and worked out that being overweight isn't a particularly desireable state...for a myriad of reasons. Bright people aware of all the subliminal messages, the psychological impact of the repulsive "thin is better" world in which we live can also state quite categorically that being a big person is doing them no favours.

I've also read so many stories about people who have grown fat...for all sorts of reasons...(medication included, and I know about that myself) who don't want to be fat any more. Many say they aren't fully living their lives because they are an unhealthy weight. I'll count myself in to that group too.

I sit here and look down at my belly, sitting on my thighs as I type. Because I want to rid myself of it and tell you about it I am 'full of self-loathing.' I don't like the fat look on myself, therefore I am a fat-hater? Let me tell you now..it's not pretty. Because I am honest, I am a fat-hater? I just don't get it. I am being analysed beyond belief by some methinks.

Because I respond well to messages informing me that I need to buck my ideas up, to get off my arse and move a bit more I am a fat-hater and subscribe to societal pressure where skinny is what it's all about???? Do me a favour! This laid-back woman might have been a tree-hanging sloth in another life, let me tell you! I know all about making life comfortable for myself. My comfort zones are very comfortable....and I struggle to lose weight because of them. This makes me full of self-loathing and a fat-hater?

Don't insult me.

Me being me - I can be no one else after all - find wake-up call stories quite interesting and motivating. I can relate to them! The huge knickers hanging on the line, the jeans straining at the seams, the young girl dressing in black from head to toe because she is not as thin as her out-going girl-friends who are dressed to kill. They all strike a chord with me. Painful images. I am not going to analyse all that stuff and say I've been brain-washed by thin-world pressure to conform. Way back in the 1970s when size wasn't such a pre-occupation I was the girl who was chubbier than her friends....We are aware. I know all about comparisons (odious) and feeling insecure.

Go back to the beginning of my blogging and I tell you about one intelligent woman in California who kick-started this campaign of mine to lose weight. She is now dead. Her weight and the illnesses associated with being huge killed her. Her message..one which went through me like a knife at the time was - "Just do it!"

She said that if she only had eighty, one hundred or even two hundred pounds to lose she'd be out there every day fighting weight gain...with all her might, with all her heart, with all her being. It was too late for her. Her weight gain - for whatever reason - had been steady and she didn't stop it in it's tracks.

I can't speak for her, but I know my fatness worries me and depresses me. I count my blessings. I am more than a number on the scale after all. I am not thrilled that my weight has gone up and up and up. Who is??? I can stuff my face as a way of ignoring the problem and soothing myself. The more we eat, the more we want, the more attractive food becomes. We lose sight of what we are doing to ourselves because our major passion has become the desire to eat foods which are handy, pre-prepared and sold at junk-food outlets.  Food is the drug of choice and like addicts we use it to calm ourselves and to make our world right for the few minutes or so that we indulge. It's a vicious circle. The more we eat the fatter we become. The fatter we become, the less we like ourselves and minor depression regarding our bodies grows and grows as our feelings of self-worth diminish. This problem isn't just about eating, but I suspect we all know that?

We know the theory. Every fuckin' one of us knows the theory or is aware of the patterns which impact on our lives. We lack the strength (for all sorts of reasons) to halt the decline so we eat another doughnut. If a doughnut had arms and legs and a voice it would cradle us gently and tell us everything was alright and that we really did have the strength to turn things around..that there were alternative paths to take. It would stroke our hair, rock us, and tell us what great people we were, despite our rolls of fat.

When we scoff that doughnut (and all the greasy, sugary, fattening foods that follow) we aren't talking to ourselves like that. I became fat and unhappy and I can only speak for myself - but from reading lots of blogs I KNOW there are lots and lots of people out there who are fat and that their fatness affects them.

Being overweight impacts on our lives in all sorts of ways. Now - does saying that make me sound like a woman full of self-loathing or a woman who is aware of what her fatness is doing to her? Does that sound like a person who is a fat-hater - thinking that being fat is a crime against our sensibilities - that fat is ugly and has no place in our world? I certainly hope not.

Being overweight IS affecting me....in many, many ways, some physical, some mental, despite all my talents, despite the wonderful people in my life and despite the brain of mine which abhors the 'being skinny is the only way to be' message which hits us time and time again where ever we are. I laugh, I contribute, I take part...I have problems, I have worries. That's life. I'll be the same me this weight or a smaller weight, and life will carry on, but my heart won't have to take so much strain, my blood pressure will return to normal, physical activity won't be as difficult and I won't want to hide behind other people when I have my photo taken. Where is the downside people?

My world will improve. Some problems won't vanish, many new ones will appear, but being mentally and physically stronger I know I'll cope with them better and won't want to resort to cakes because of them. That's the place I want to get to...and as I write this I hear that (huge) lovely, bed-ridden lady who is now longer with us, urging me to make it happen..telling me I CAN make it happen and that I SHOULD make it happen...not in the future, but NOW.

I want to look better. I want to feel better. End of.

I may be blunt, I may not be the sweeet, encouraging woman people want me to be, I may not be the cheer-leader full of positivity and sweet messages of hope but if my style indicates that I am full of self-loathing and that I am a fat-hater, then all I can say is - you just don't know me at all.

Self-deprecating humour is also a feature of my writing. I am often droll...and hopefully those who read me pick up on that. I laugh lots. Generally I am happy, but I want to be thinner and fitter....no happier, but proud of myself that I've tackled a problem which is worrying me, making me less than I can be. This is a personal reflection.

I was despondent when I started writing this post - I was going to stop writing - or even make my blog an 'invitation only' one, but now I feel more than a little angry that others have taken it upon themselves to label me in such a derogatory manner. Is it supposed to be constructive criticism?

I'll carry on being Fat Grump...and if you feel the messages I am sending out don't help you or other overweight people, then please feel free to ignore my blog. I remain exceedingly grateful for the feedback and encouragement I get in response to my witterings.

Have a good day folks. I intend to :)