“Mu-um,” I yell, “Hurry up.”

“What?” She yells back. She’s in the computer room, I’m in the dining room on my laptop. Can’t you tell we’re social?

“I’m waiting for you.”

“Oh,” she says, “I was waiting for you.”

So we’re off. Almost. Just as we get outside the front door, Mum squats down to weed some clover. Bit of a one-track mind, sometimes. I stop for a second, then keep walking. It takes her a little while to realise, then “Hey! Wait up!” She jogs to where I am. I grin.

“See, told you I’d make you run.”

She sighs. “But I’ve been on my feet all day. My job is now much more active.”

I shrug and relent. No running. Fair enough. “At least you’ll get fit.” She nods with a grin. We walk in silence for a while. It’s nice. I enjoy it. I’m feeling like I’m not quite pushing myself far enough, but we’re going at a reasonable pace, for a walk. I’m not running, I’m not going to feel guilty for not running. Mum isn’t a runner and she never has been. She doesn’t enjoy it and he sciatic nerve always plays up on her, which makes for uncomfortable after-effects. (I learnt this in Edinburgh when mine did the same thing. Apparently it’s a family trait. It’s like having a leg ache for 24 hours or until the pain goes away. Not enjoyable.) But, hey, we’re walking and we wouldn’t have otherwise.

We get round the bend and she lets out a little laugh. “Just because I speed up doesn’t mean you have to.”

I’m startled. “What?”

“I’m speeding up to keep up with you. You don’t need to go faster.”

“Oh,” I say. “Sorry.” I hadn’t realised. A year ago, Mum was the one pushing me, encouraging me, motivating me when I couldn’t be arsed. Was I now fitter than her? I felt weird, like the balance had changed. I enjoyed feeling fitter, definitely, but I enjoyed doing things with her, too. I didn’t want her to stop.

No need to worry. The topic turns to yoga and body balance. I talk about the ‘bird pose’ that it too much fun and too difficult to do. I mention that I have inflexible hamstrings, Mum tells me about a pilates stretch for them. We get to a clearing in the grass and she shows me the stretch. She’s right; it does help. I show her the bird pose and she laughs — she does try it out, though. Neither of us can do it…there’s a little too much balancing involved.

I tell her that I’ve been practicing to be able to do a walkover again. I used to be able to do it when I was younger. I want to be able to do it again. “All right.” She says, “Go on.” I’m scared. What if I break something? I do it anyway: launch myself into a handstand, make sure there’s enough force to flip myself over. For a milisecond, I think I’ve done it: my feet touch down… and then they’re spilling right out from underneath me and all I can feel is the pain in my back from the impact of the ground. I’m almost, but not quite, winded. Ow.

“Almost,” Mum says. “Your feet just skidded out. You okay?”

I nod and get up. “Not quite there yet.”

“Not quite,” she grins. “But you’ll get there.”

Posted at 12:07 am | No Comments »

So, my week is up. I have *ahem* successfully completed the week off. So, what have I learnt?

• I am not an intuitive eater. If there is food on the plate and I like the taste, I will finish it.
• College does not allow me to listen to my body. I may crave a salad, but the environment does not provide what I need.
• I will always be in the mood for pizza.
• Because college does not allow me to eat what I want when I want it, my ‘diet’ is actually a way for me to provide myself with my body wants when I can get it. So I may be craving red meat or salad — I may not get to have it for lunch but dinner will have something suitable.
• When I don’t follow my diet, I eat crap and never feel fulfilled because I’m not giving my body what I want.
• Ultimately, my diet is not restrictive, it is empowering.

Posted at 10:36 am | No Comments »

It’s actually really hard to break out of the dieting mindset. I want to point everything I see, I want to add them up. I’m ignoring the impulse, but I am learning a lot about myself.

For example, I actually like a lot of the foods that I originally ‘made’ myself eat. Right now I’m really hoping they have the mediterranean salad for lunch. I kind of want something light to eat. Something fresh. Maybe some strawberries or something.

And as it turns out, when I say to myself “Okay, what do you want? You can have anything.” the craving for chocolate muffins goes away. I still fancy the WW ones from muffin break — in fact I think I may now prefer them to the chocolate muffins. I no longer want ice cream or doughnuts or anything. It’s like I’ve lifted a restriction and suddenly I don’t feel stifled anymore.

I think somewhere along the road I slipped into a dieting mindset, and I think it was that which was beginning to wear on me. So I’m going to try to balance this week — if I want it, I’ll have it, but otherwise…why bother? I’ll see where it takes me, and then next Monday I’ll be back at it.

Posted at 1:43 am | No Comments »

Another decision.

I’m taking a week off. I will eat anything I want without feeling guilty, I will not ‘try’ to go to the gym and feel bad if I don’t make it, I will simply ignore any WW training and quantifying everything. I’ve been treading water for about 4 months. Not gaining, not losing…just treading. And I’m tired. I’ve made some effort but not the effort required, and I’m beginning to get into the mindset where I feel restricted, which is untrue.

So I would rather forget about it this week, and instead focus on life for a while. I need to do the ‘normal’ thing again, rather than stressing if my friends want to go for coffee.

I know it seems like my decisions are taking me backwards, but I think they’re a good thing. I just need this period to let myself off the hook so that when I come back to it, I’m full force.

Posted at 1:28 am | No Comments »

So, today I woke up and went for a ralk (run/walk) before breakfast, and during that time I seem to have come to a decision:

I’m going to stop running.

It’s not that I don’t like it, so much. When I’m in Queensland I love it and I love my running track. But running in Sydney is a whole different head game. I’ve been trying to get away with the treadmill, but it hasn’t been working. I get bored without any visual stimulation, I can’t find the mental drive to push myself to go further and better, I’m just coasting. And running on the road in Sydney disturbs me too. I feel so exposed and vulnerable, and I dislike it. I was going to try running in the national park we have nearby, but apparently it’s more of a trail than a track, and doing that would mean all sorts of issues with running alone in a national park at odd hours…

So at the moment, it just feels like I need to put the idea to rest for a little while. I’m going home in just over a week, and then I’ll continue running then, but for now I think I need to remove the guilt by doing something else while I’m in Sydney, and then come back to running when I’m a bit lighter and a bit fitter.

Posted at 1:08 am | No Comments »

It’s not hard to feel like a fraud when you’re fat. At lunch yesterday I was sitting with a group of girls. We’re talking about the normal things: boys, the food, gossip. The topic turns to the weather. “It’s gorgeous outside,” I say, looking out of the dining hall to the sun shining outside. “A few more weeks and it’ll be beach weather.”

One of the girls smiles and nods enthusiastically. “I can’t wait. I love the beach.”

The other two groan. One of them says, “Aw crap,” and when we look bewildered, she looks at her ally. “You know what I’m talking about.” The other girl nods.

“What?” I ask, wondering if maybe she just didn’t like the sun.

“It’s a few weeks until uncovering weather and everyone gets to see all my winter fat.” The other girl nods.

I’ve never worn a bikini in my life. And why worry about the possibility of losing 5 kilos to get into a bikini when you’ve got another 30 to stress over? I haven’t swum in the beach in a long time. Partly because we don’t go there much…partly because I don’t like the exposure.

It’s not that I have anything against my body. I would wear a bikini if I thought I could get away with it. Not a stringy one, of course, but a sturdy bikini and boardies over the top? It could work. Except the thought of walking into a store and asking for help choosing a bikini scares the crap out of me. And then there’s the fact that putting on a bikini seems to open you up to comment — good or bad. How many times have you heard someone go, “Damn, she’s hot!”? Same story, but the exact opposite. And people who wouldn’t comment on how good someone looks would comment on how bad you look. Frankly, I’d rather sing karaoke in front of everyone I know — friends, family, work colleages — than put myself up for comment. (And that’s saying something.) I’m quite liking what I see at the moment. I don’t want that to change.

“Oh,” I say, feeling silly. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh right. “It’s never been an issue for me…I don’t do it,” I mumble awkwardly.

I feel ridiculous. Why am I sitting here talking to these girls about getting our ‘beach bodies’ ready? In what alternate universe do I even partially qualify?

It’s the same when you’re sitting with a group of friends (usually guys), and they start commenting on people. “Look at her! She’s huge, she so fat, she cannot pull off those shorts.” I look at the girl in question. Probably 20kg lighter than me. Shit. What do you say to that? Okay, yes, it was possibly a poor choice of wardrobe and the shorts may not be the most flattering things she could have chosen. But on the other hand, how dare they tear someone down like that? And if they think that of her, what would they say about me if I wasn’t their friend?

So you keep your mouth shut and wonder why they can’t see the giant neon light on your forehead screaming “Imposter!”. And hope that they just won’t catch a glimpse.

Posted at 3:22 am | No Comments »

Stole the title from the Skinny Train thread because I love it.

Going great guns at the moment. Tracking has been going well — a few points over 18 most days but always under 22 (which is about where I should be) so I won’t worry about it. Refuse to, in fact. I know that I’m eating well and also enjoying myself, and that’s the important thing.

Today I hit up the Body Balance class again, which I absolutely love. It gives me such a mid-week burst, and the tracks are short enough that just as I think my legs will collapse — it changes. My favourite part is the sun-salutation…maybe I just love the idea of worshipping the sun? I’m always just a little disappointed when we follow a different yoga warm up, sort of a like a friend has decided to skip the class.

Then I did the 100 Push Up Challenge Day 2 and managed to do it. I couldn’t believe how sore my arms and abs have been in the past few days just from the 13 push ups I did last time. I’ve been aching for days.

So now I’m dancing around my room non-stop full of energy and wondering what I should do after this post. Normally I’d head for green tea but I’m not sure I need the energy boost — might start pinging off the walls, hehe.

Posted at 5:17 am | No Comments »

I don’t know why, it just is. You know those days when you can’t be bothered having to think about everything, so something inevitably slips? It’s like that…but week long.

I could use those same old excuses…it’s assignment week, I haven’t been feeling right, I’ve been snuffly, and very busy…

But they just aren’t ringing true and I have to face it — they aren’t. I’ve just stopped trying.

So I need to go back to baby steps to start myself off again. Tonight I committed to the Hundred Push Up Challenge (Part II) — Full Push Ups! And tomorrow my goal is to go to the gym, even if just for 20 minutes, and to track what I eat. Full stop. Those are my only goals for tomorrow, and then I’ll see how I fare.

Posted at 12:13 pm | No Comments »