The Lard Arms

Stop? Go? Wait?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Counter Productive

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

History Repeating Itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

But here's what did happen:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Driving Me Crazy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mystic Pizza

Regular readers will know I have one particular food obsession that has never changed...pizza!  Not the Pizza Hut variety but more the wood-fired oven variety.  When I lived in London, I found the perfect pizza - after many, many attempts.

As last year drew to a close, I found myself eating too many shop-bought pizzas - always top of the range (obviously!) - but always, always, always...disappointing.

I've had several opportunities - this year - to have a supermarket pizza and I've turned them down.  It just didn't feel right; I knew they wouldn't hit the spot.

I went to see Malcolm Gladwell on tour in London last autumn and visited one of my favourites (if not the favourite) pizzeria - Pulcinella in Soho.  I was disappointed but put it down to other things going on in my life.

Well, tonight, I went out for pizza.  Somewhere good.  Somewhere with the right oven.  And things looked promising, they really did.

And guess what?  It was...disappointing.  Again!

It was just too heavy, too doughy and actually...too rich!  I can't believe I am writing this.  I really can't.  I can't believe my love affair with - what I thought was perfection in food form - is over.  Or at least altered beyond recognition.

Admittedly, there was a lot of chat going on tonight and I now find eating out a completely different experience.  Two years ago, I would have crossed continents for pizza.  And, in fact, I did!  I broke abstinence for a slice of pizza pie in New York City!

Anyway, I'm not going to make any rash statements about the 'p' word right now but it's got to be more than a coincidence that there has been much dis-satisfaction around rather than the opposite.  Hmmmm. Because if I am not a pizza fanatic, who am I???

And that leads me to a very important post that I will publish tomorrow.  I've got a guest blogger popping by with awesome (well, I think so) words that are relevant for all of us.

Hope everyone (who could) enjoyed their Bank Holiday Monday.

Until tomorrow!

Monkeying Around

The title is deliberate.  That is exactly what I have been doing - with food - AND it's a reference to our new elite dieter (!) friend, Lesley, whom I am thrilled to say is rising to the Olympian challenge over at the velodrome in Manchester.

I do urge you to go to her blog and see what she has been up to.  There is much to think about,particularly with the chimp theory, which I won't even attempt to explain over here!

Sooooo...back to the food thang.  And losing weight.  Or gaining it, in my case.  There is something about Lesley's comments and blog that bring me right back down to earth - a great reality check with some humour thrown in.  It's what I needed.  There will be no more chocolate chat because...there will be no more chocolate for a while!  Let's just say my little experiment gave some interesting results.  Unless I am in a restaurant and having a chocolate dessert, chocolate and I can be in a very destructive co-dependent relationship!  When it's good, it's really good and when it's bad, it's awful.

I really did see for myself how highly addictive the brown stuff (well, probably the sugar) can be.  The thing is, I think it's important to test oneself every now and then.  And sadly, I've proved that there need to be some very strong boundaries around sugar.

I've also really neglected the work I need to do to really prepare for a life of maintenance.  I'll be honest, it scares me.  I cannot do abstinence again.  I absolutely cannot.  So what that means is that I need to get real about me and food.  We're going to be in a relationship for the rest of my life!   I don't want it to dominate my life.  I already feel highly conscious of just how much time it has taken up and there are so many other things in the world that deserve my attention.

BUT what I do understand is that maintenance is going to take practice.  I am an expert in being bigger!  I know how to put on weight VERY easily.  I also know, now, how to take it off fairly rapidly.  But it's a tortuous process and not a long-term solution.  A VLCD gets amazing results.  The real work starts when the VLCD stops.  And that's what I have yet to learn; how to maintain this loss.  I also want to lose some more weight, to be honest - at least another 10 lbs.  But the only way that is going to happen is with exercise.  And a super healthy diet.  Aha!

The Eat-a-thon Continued

The so-called lock down on food did not happen.  If I were in London, right now, I can guarantee I would have spent the past 72 hours conducting an eat-a-thon of epic proportions.  But I'm not in the capital and my access to temptation has been severely curtailed.  Phew!

The chocolate thing continued.  I went to a meeting yesterday and there were biscuits.  This year I have turned away from such things - in abstinence, that's what you do.  You just say no.  Well, no thanks! Yesterday, I went along hoping against hope that the meeting would include biscuits.  That I could eat. Hmmm or should that be Mmmmmm?!  They were McVitie's Chocolate Digestives.  Milk chocolate.  Social anxiety stopped me scoffing the last one on the plate!!

Last night I had a whole packet of stuffed pasta.  This is bad news.  I know, I know, you're thinking, for goodness sake, don't be so obsessive.  But it's the complete lack of control that scares me, to be honest.  Of course, I also had salad because that's what the thinner me wants.  Salad.  All I want is chocolate and carbs.  

Today it was crumpets.  Don't ask.  Although, I did do a quick calculation and saw that the crumpets seemed to be less damaging (in carbs that sugar) than a pack.  How can that be?  I soooo wish I knew more about nutrition.  Anyway, it was crumpets and marmite (and butter).

There has been much prowling around, opening cupboards, opening the fridge a zillion times.  For what? Rationally, I know what's available.  Looking inside, again, is not going to make food appear out of nowhere.

Anyway, all day I've been feeling tired.  Really, really tired.  When I finally sat down this evening, I fell asleep instantly for 30 minutes.  I felt much better.  Maybe that's what's been driving the past few days - extreme tiredness.  Anyway, today has been chocolate free.

And that reminds me...Shauna, if you're reading this, I TOTALLY agree - what IS it with Green&Black's and 30% versus 34%?  It hardly seems worth launching a whole new product for 4% but obviously some focus groups made them think it was worth it.  Taste-wise, I preferred the creamy milk ie lower cocoa content.  My partner in chocolate preferred the 34%.  Does that make me the opposite of a food snob and reveal a poor palate? Probably. But then I am the girl who will never turn down a Tunnock's Caramel!!!!

Going for Gold...

I've been doing this losing weight malarkey for longer than my adult life.  I've been doing serious weight loss for more than three years and an understanding of addictive eating for at least two.

I have put in a lot of effort. A lot of focus.  And then earlier this year I decided I really knew nothing!  At all.

One thing I DO know for sure is that a run of good days can be followed by ... the complete opposite.  And so it was today.

There were two factors in the mix - hormones and tiredness.  But it's still no excuse.  Whatever I ate, for most of the day, did not assuage my hunger.  So then it wasn't about physical hunger, right?   Well, if that's the case, I haven't done the necessary work to find out what the real problem was.  

It started well - I'm using up the last of my packs - but I was two down by 9.30am.  Then I was travelling and I packed hard boiled eggs, zero fat yoghurt amongst other things.

At the station, I picked up a skinny latte and a banana.  I also bought some chicken (M&S - 3 for 2) and one of their utterly divine superfood salads - the vegetarian one with couscous.  That was for supper. Supposedly.  The coffee, banana, some yoghurt, the salad and some chicken were all consumed within one hour of being on the train.  I also bought some peanut butter (as a gift!) from Whole Foods yesterday. Well, I had some of that too.  The hole was simply not being filled.

When I arrived at my destination, I really wanted some chocolate.  I have not had any chocolate this year. Fact.  This morning, for the umpteenth time, I distracted myself from the Lindt bunnies that we were given at Easter (but several weeks early).  My plan was to buy a small (ie the smallest) bar of Green&Blacks.  But there were none in the supermarket.  Honest! The reality was I bought two large bars because I simply had to taste the new variety.  Obviously.  As of 8pm tonight, both have been demolished (not entirely by me but about 80%).   Regular readers know that I don't allow myself to be obsessional about calories and fat content (because I worry it's a road that leads to more self destruction) but hell, that chocolate came in at an eye-watering 558 calories with 35.9g of fat and 523 calories with 29.7g of fat respectively.  Blimey!

(Compare that with one chocolate food pack, which has 125 calories and 3.4 g of fat.)

Whoops.  Here today... and gone today.

So you see, virtue precedes vice.  Now there is nothing within my reach that can do any more damage.  I am back in the zone of the person on a regime!

Since I had eaten my supper by lunchtime and I didn't want any more packs, I had salad and my new-found love (or rediscovered love since I was eating this about 15-20 years ago!) - quinoa.  It's LIKE pasta in terms of bulk and flavour but it's packed full of protein rather than carbs... 

I was going to take myself off to bed early but the chocolate rush has kept me awake.  So I am ending the day with more protein - my second hard-boiled egg.  Oh and some more quinoa!

Apart from the chocolate, I can honestly say I have enjoyed everything I have eaten - I genuinely have - but I am alarmed by the volume.  If I were a slim person, would I rationalise the food other than the Green&Blacks as something my body needed?  Physically.  Who can say.

I recently bought Dr Beck the CD!  I fell asleep on the train today, with Dr Beck's words of wisdom going, I hope, into my brain.  Clearly, it was busy processing before it could act on them!

Watch this space but I am, for the record, practising lock down on the food front!  For the next few days...

The Temple of Temptation

Apologies for the lack of blogging, etc.  I have been running around (not in a Marathon-kind- of way, though) and came to London.  I had time to kill in the middle of the day and rather than benefit from the cultural offerings, I was on a mission.

I revisited the store that precipitated the Route to Management downfall in 2007 ie the time when you stop being abstinent and start introducing new things and living in the world of food.  I'll try to dig out the link...

And where is this temple of temptation?  None other than Whole Foods, Kensington High Street.  So, while The Chocolate Alchemist's wares were on offer in the window:

I walked straight inside and had something far more virtuous (although, quite frankly, there is much value AND virtue in eating a chocolate dog whilst supporting Guide Dogs for the Blind!).

This was my lunch before I tucked in...

And once I sat down...

I'm on the road again tomorrow so will update very soon.

Stay strong everyone and I must admit, I had completely forgotten just how much food is on offer in the capital.  I was nearly lured by Ben's Cookies at the Tube!  And that was just one of many opportunities to snack that I had to ignore!

When I finally got home, very late, I had scrambled eggs on toast for supper, which was made AFTER I had to make an emergency supermarket stop.   I walked up and down the aisles, contemplated so many things but reminded myself that I needed eggs and Diet Coke only.  So that's when I marched to the till, paid and left.  That visit could so easily have gone in the opposite direction...

I am beginning not to recognise my own behaviour at times, which I am concluding can only be a good thing.  I am also frightened of saying that out loud...as it usually precedes a massive downfall on the food front.

Weight-wise I am up but with hormones in the mix, I won't be able to get a full picture until tomorrow. I hope the scales will be kind...

10K here I come...

Don't get excited, I am not running a 10 km race!

I woke up this morning and thought about the fact that three weeks ago I was lying in a hospital bed, terrified (pre-surgery) and sick as a dog (post-op').  And very sore!  I thought about progress to date and whether I'm feeling better.

As I have mentioned, the whole thing really took it out of me and I've been waiting for that "wow, I feel great" feeling to return.  But it hasn't.

Some friends keep telling me to rest...properly - early to bed, blah blah blah.  Porkchop has told me to rest BUT get moving.  In a more concerted fashion.

What I have noticed is that the longer I feel below par, the more flat I feel - particularly emotionally and mentally.  So I am going to try an experiment.  I'm going to walk 10 km tomorrow. I have found a route that I can do, that's safe, and that will really help me see what I am capable of right now.  (My friend, Doodle, is doing the Moonwalk again, for the third time so she's inspiring me to walk, too.)

What I have also noticed is that the flatter I feel, the more I want to turn to food.  It's the same with being tired.  Yesterday, I was absolutely shattered and I know that in the past, I would have reached for sugar and caffeine to get me through.  A Starbucks double-blended Coffee Light Frapuccino really hits the spot with a double hit.  But I just can't go there anymore (not literally, obviously!!).  That would be far too dramatic!  But those halcyon days of frequenting coffee bars are diminishing...

I'm also super conscious that I am going to have to find a new way of eating.  For life!  There can be no, "it won't be like this forever" thoughts.   I can get back to the food I love soon enough!   This IS how I am going to have to be.

I'm weighing myself everyday and even though I don't feel physically very different, I have to make myself look in the mirror to remind myself that I do look different.  This is a really important point to make; my brain is saying "eat what you like, it doesn't matter" because, in the past, I have made it not matter.  But it's giving into those moments that means the weight will come back.  NOT overnight.  Not even over a couple of months (unless I really go for it) but it will come back if I don't remind myself that I am someone who can lose weight AND learn to keep it off.  I cannot allow myself to think that I can't do it, there's no point and it will never work!  

And that's the really hard bit, to be honest.