Still here, still trying

To be honest, that's all I can really say right now.

Unfortunately, I've had a particularly tough time over the last week or so.

Why is this?

Well, work has certainly been one aspect. Circumstances have meant that it's not been my finest nor easiest week. Maybe that phase is over, maybe there's another avalanche waiting to engulf me. Who knows. I certainly don't. But I'll keep showing up, and I'll keep doing as much as I can. Stubborn? You betcha!

Secondly, I received a copy of my assessment, as was sent to my doctor, there it is in black and white. Oh sh*t. It wasn't all a bad dream after all, it really does say what I thought it did, and it's there. In writing... Set in stone... Shared... Visible... On the record... No taking it back.

The other more affecting part is that I've been working on that project my counsellor set, to try to put down in precise words a description of those long-buried feelings and my pain. This has meant opening the box and taking a long hard look at said feelings. Exhumed and unburied, they are not a nice sight and I'd can only say that, like a rotting corpse, they stink.

She did warn me this would not be a quick, nor an easy task. By damn, she was correct!

Doing so, rather unsurprisingly perhaps, has truly unleashed the beast which stalks me in the night-time (hmmm, in the day-time too). I have to say he's a pretty effective beast and has done a damn good job of mauling me, biting chunks from my psyche and gnawing away at my innermost insecurities. Result = bad dreams, early hours worries, and tears 'R us.

This in turn has led to a week where I've been pretty fragile. So I've ended up 'coping' with the added angst the old-fashioned way. Not exactly bingeing, but certainly having several days where my eating has been anything but stellar.

Keto? Nah, you must be 'aving a laraarrf! Days where I made decidedly poor choices though (how's that for a weasel-words way of putting it).

Want to hazard a guess as to the effect of this? Yep, you've got it in one. That's one kilo upwards to be exact - 63.5kg and unimpressed.

But whoa, stop, halt! OK, let's not get too disheartened here (come on, listen to yourself girl) and let's not pile misplaced guilt onto whatever negativity's already in place.

Yes, it's a gain. No, I'm not pleased. But, you need to take on board that there will be no true healing until this hurt is exposed, recognised, picked apart and dealt with. I guess it's like lancing a boil - it's going to hurt like a bitch but it really is necessary.

If it comes with some collateral damage, so be it. Just ride it out for now and deal with it when you can. Still, I'll try a little harder this week.

I'll work on sticking to health-giving food choices. I'll drink my water (try to cut down on the caffeine a bit). I'll do my very best to remember why this is necessary. And I will be kind to myself. I'd naturally be kind to someone else in this position, so I need to be there for me too.

OK, big girl knickers are pulled up and in place, so it's onwards ever...

So, what's happening?

Firstly, I want to thank those of you who have left me comments - you've been so kind and I really do appreciate it.

So then, let's get to it. On the weight front things aren't exactly fantastic. Fact is, I seem to have gained an extra kilo (up to 63kg again) in a shade under a couple of weeks which, as you can probably imagine, doesn't please me much. This is despite following the keto-style diet which has worked for me in the past.

OK, let's look at why the direction of travel isn't the required one.

To be brutally honest I'd best mention that I did have a serious slip-up on Tuesday last, when a barrow-load of stress got the better of me. I ate more nuts than I should have and wolfed an individual bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk chocolate that day. Sadly, this was a decidedly pointless variety of stress-relief as I didn't really enjoy it that much at the time, and felt like crap afterwards. The stress didn't go away either!

Other than that I thought I'd been pretty virtuous for the whole week. Or have I? Hmmm, if I think a little more closely about what I've eaten, I realise that I've snacked on chopped brazil nuts or almonds on a couple of days, and nibbled on pork scratchings too. That's in addition to the salad boxes I've made for lunch and whatever our evening meal has been.

Overload? Probably, so I guess I need to rethink snacks. My options are either a) don't have any at all, or b) radically change what I consume. Things have to change, so thinking cap on.

On the 'looking after me' front, things have gone a little better. 

I've had a follow-up appointment with my counsellor which, although pretty harrowing, emotional and exhausting, brought to the foreground and gave voice to some of the bottled-up pain I've been carrying with me for a long time and suppressing like fury. Interesting. Not at the time perhaps, but certainly ruminating over it in the aftermath. 

I have been given a little project to do as a result, and that is to think this through quietly and in some detail over the next couple of weeks, seeking out the exact words to explain my feelings. Easy enough, one may think. Not so. None of the words I've tried out so far truly express feelings I've spent so long subjugating. A long way to go on this one...

I have also had an NHS assessment to determine the shape my current difficulties are taking, and to look at the type(s) of long-term support that might be suitable to assist me to help myself. Sounds good, huh?

Well, yes to some extent, but it was actually quite a shocker too. I'd duly completed my questionnaire and was ready and (...sort of) willing to discuss the answers to the questions in greater detail on the day. However, a couple of things brought me up short. 

Once I'd said I was fine in this respect, I wasn't expecting to return to the part of conversation about the possibility of harming myself. But we did, touching on this rather sensitive spot several times in fact. Now let's get this straight. I most definitely don't feel I'm in any danger of acting upon my most negative thoughts, but I guess the fact that they exist raised a flag of some kind.

The other thing to take the wind from my sails was being advised that the depression I'm experiencing was classed as 'severe'. Along the numerical scale used in the assessment I am apparently pretty close to the worst end. Oh bugger! That anxiety is not quite such a big deal, but it's also a bit more embedded than I thought. 

I guess it really is time to address this situation and move towards some form of resolution. My little book of daily positives is a step in the right direction.

However, I'm very aware that I have a long road ahead of me and rather a lot of work to do in this respect. That's both a scary proposition and hopeful, in roughly equal measures from where I'm standing at the moment.

So here goes.

As I always say, and mean every single time I say it. Onwards, ever...

Damn, just damn

Well, I've been away for an age again and as you may imagine that means things haven't exactly been going well. I've pretty much ended up descending into a deep, dark black hole

Why? A combination of s**t ganged up on me and things went completely to pot after the New Year. Yep, I guess that includes a pot belly!

The nastiest news was that my weight did hit 67kg for a while. That meant at 10 stone 8 lbs I was over two stone heavier than my 'happy weight'. Crap!

While I'm glad to say that has come down a bit, to 62kg at the moment, it's still not good. It's also been a very hard slog even to get this far.

I mentioned back in December that some of the strategies that have worked for me in the past just don't seem to be cutting it any more. Sadly, that's still the case. I'm trying, but any progress is very slow.

OK, that's the weight, but my mental health has also taken a pretty big hit. I guess I've mentioned it a few times but haven't really laid it out in too much detail (keeping head planted firmly in the sand, I guess), but the last X weeks... well, months really... have been somewhat tough.

I've struggled in some nebulous 'can't cope' sort of way. I've been down, bluesy, sad, under the weather, prone to tears, you name it - often with no identifiable cause. My confidence, always somewhat tenuous, has taken a nosedive. There's absolutely no single concrete reason for this, that I can see - just a whole load of smallish setbacks which have piled up like a snowdrift. Unfortunately... that's just the way it just is.

It's quite a while back that my old nemesis, the Black Dog, saw his chance and leapt at it. He invited himself in by sneaking through a crack in the door, made himself comfortably at home with a cup of tea and settled in for the duration. He's there now, the little beggar, half hidden in the shadows and grinning at me with his teeth ever so slightly bared, displaying his defiance and contempt. Once he'd made himself at home, he invited along his old mate Anxiety for the ride. Fun, huh?

Suffice it to say I don't like this at all and hate the way I've been feeling. I'm so tired of just soldiering on. Some days are alright, but on others my 'worries' feel like I've managed to avoid being run down by a car only to be hit by a bus I didn't even see coming. Don't get me wrong. I don't need to tell you that there are so many people in this world for whom life is a whole lot more of a struggle than it is for poor old me. But still...

It's taken me some time to get to the point where I'd accept that I need some extra support, but I finally have and I have recently started counselling. The jury is out as to how well I'll do, but at least I've begun.

And I can do something else that I've mentioned more than once - something my lovely Mum used to do. Actually write down (yep, list in black and white) the reasons I am blessed. Express my gratitude for the good things I have in my life. And try to identify the positive things about 'me' (though I do find it difficult to see the good, not just the negatives).

If I write down just one little thing a day, that list should begin to build. If I watch it grow and read it back to myself, however corny it may seem, it might just give me another weapon in my personal armoury to help me beat off the Black Dog.

I am going to try to post here more often (er, at the moment I can't realistically make promises), as I know it has helped me in the past and your support has been a boost too.

Ah well, let's keep my fingers crossed. For now all I can really say is my customary onwards, ever...

What's occurring?

Blimey! It's December already and nowhere near the start of the month. Deep breath - er, hello world.

I can't imagine there's many out there to remember this rather 'absent' fat lass but, surprisingly, I am still here. If there is anyone left, I can almost hear the question "And where exactly is 'here' these days"?

Well, I'd love to report that all is Yuletide cheer and joy, but reality is not quite along those lines. Let's get the toughest bit out there first. About an age and a half ago, way back in May, which I gather is over half a year back, I wrote:

"My weight is currently 61 kg = 134 lbs = 9 stone 8 lbs. That's more than a stone higher than my 'happy' weight, and an increase of more than 10% of my body weight. Hell, it hurts typing that."

As of the start of the week, my weight is 59 kg = 130 lbs = 9 stone 4 lbs. Oh crap, when you look at it this is not really sterling progress for this time-frame, is it?

Sure I have lost 'some' weight, but it's minimal and has been a damned hard slog, with one step forward, two back (and repeat). Here I am still a kilo above the top of my 'Ideal Weight' range (for my age/height/frame) which is 58 kg = 128 lbs = 9 stone 2 lbs. A long way away yet from my 'Happy Weight' of 54 kg = 119 lbs = 8 stone 7 lbs.

Is this from lack of trying? Well, of course it is partly, as earlier in the year I wasn't truly committed, whatever I thought, so backsliding was commonplace.

However, in the six or so weeks since the end of October I have been putting in a great deal more effort and trying a helluva lot harder, and still my progress is minimal. Some of the strategies that have worked for me in the past don't seem to be cutting it any more.

What am I doing right now? 
Low carb (keto) eating, with just two meals per day.
Intermittent fasting in the form of time-restricted eating. In practice, this is not eating after about 7:30 in the evening until at least 11:00 the next morning, usually longer than this.
Minimising snacks (with chunks of cucumber and mooli being my most common snacking choice).
Remembering to drink water as often as I can, and keeping the alcohol to one glass of something at weekends.
Weighing myself regularly, and checking measurements too.

What am I NOT doing right now? 
Moving my ass. Sadly, my 'new' new job is seriously sedentary and I'm sat on my tush for the vast majority of the day, tied to a computer.
Because there's a lot to get done (jeez, understatement here!) I'm working extra hours so I'm too damn tired to even consider a return to the gym.
Now it's winter I'm not walking to or from work in the cold and dark, and weekend walking isn't too tempting either.
Oh yeah, keeping the stress to acceptable levels - this is so not happening (the new role is... pretty hellish, if I'm honest).
Not getting enough sleep, despite being tired (see stress above), waking frequently, having bad dreams/nightmares and the odd 2 a.m. panic attack.
Ah, and to add to the mix, the continuing effects of coming off HRT are still giving me grief.

What am I proud of?
It's tempting to say "not much" here, but there are some chinks of silver lining to my cloud.
Although my weight isn't much changed, my measurements have reduced and my podgy, padded middle is a shade less overstuffed. I am wearing a pair of work trousers that I could barely get done up a few weeks ago.
I'm also really delighted that having just 'enjoyed' the third of this year's festive celebrations today, I have stayed true to my low carb ideals. No sweeties, or chocolate, or mince pies, etc. for this fat lass (and there have been and still are a wealth of temptations in the workplace!).

What am I pissed off about?
Well, my weight is obviously a major one. What I want to see on the scales and what I do see is not motivating in the least, making this period harder for me than I can say I appreciate.
Getting older doesn't endear itself to me. My darling Mum always said that old age doesn't come alone and she was right - it brings things like dry and sagging skin, dry eyes, aching joints, sleepless nights, health concerns (for me and for loved ones), constipation, and a raft of other fun things.
I'm actually also quite angry about work. I won't go into detail but it isn't exactly what I (or others) had been led to expect.
My other, and possibly biggest, problem is that old faithful, the Black Dog, who is my constant companion at the moment. Here he is again with a rumbling growl, firmly attached to my side, having invited his good mate 'Anxiety' along for good measure.
Things have been pretty rotten in this respect recently. Lovely hubby gently mentioned how concerned he has been about me, and what he said he was worried about really shocked me to the core. More than for myself, I really hate how this crap is affecting him.

So, what's next?
Keeping on doing the good things I'm doing.
Learning to be patient and keep the end goal in mind (now I'm heading for 60 this stuff isn't as straightforward as it was back in my 40s - things take longer).
And, once the darkness of winter begins to lift and work shakes down into a more manageable routine (please Lord!) I will get this flabby bottom moving more. Whether that will involve gym membership, or something else, it's just too soon to say.

Hey ho. Onwards, ever...

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Well, it appears that Christmas, New Year and Easter have all come and gone, but it's still the season to be... er, brutally honest actually.

You know how when someone disappears from the weight blogging world for a while you kind of wonder whether everything is OK? Oh no, you perhaps think, I hope it hasn't all gone pear-shaped.

Well, since I last wrote something here - way back in May last year - it has. I'm feeling decidedly pear-shaped, and not a little disappointed in myself. In fact, re-reading that post and a few earlier ones makes me realise just how badly things have gone wrong.

Hey kids, let's go to to hell in a handcart!

So, to get back to the title, let's focus on the 'good' for a moment, well... 'good' being a bit of a relative term.

I haven't gained back all the weight I lost. Sounds alright, doesn't it? Well I suppose if one looks for silver linings, this is a microscopically paper-thin sliver of one.

You see, then there's the 'bad'.

OK, I'll just get the worst news out of the way. My weight is currently 61 kg = 134 lbs = 9 stone 8 lbs. That's more than a stone higher than my 'happy' weight, and an increase of more than 10% of my bodyweight. Hell, it hurts typing that.

Worse, this is somewhere I have been for a pretty long time. Up a couple of kg, down a couple maybe, but close to this figure for waaaay too long.

Now, technically, this scary figure is apparently still within some mythical 'Normal Weight Range' BMI band so some might say that it isn't quite an unmitigated disaster yet... but it rather feels like it's headed there.

Oh yeah, while I'm at the 'bad' part, I'll confess that the gym and I appear to have broken up. More of this later.

Which sort of leaves the 'ugly' part?

Alright,let's get down to the rest of it. The results of 'bad' mean that I feel and look flabby and unfit, and my clothes (particularly around my tubby, and rather matronly middle) tell me this is very real.

Huh, how did this happen? Why? Well, of course there are some contributory factors at play - yeah, yeah, aren't there always. This has not helped, but the blame is still squarely on me!

Yes, that's right - the real reason is down to me. That's 100%, as I know full well that I have choices, and appear to have consistently made crap ones.

Probably the biggest factor (a.k.a. excuse) is that I came off HRT a while back. Goodness, it's probably about eight or nine months ago now!

That decision was made after several conversations with my GP about the length of time I'd been on it, risk factors and the like. Mind you, it's a bit like guesswork, as no-one seems to be able to tell me very much that's actually the accurate and copper-bottomed truth when it comes to matters menopausal. Anyhow, a consensus was reached using some arcane formula and off HRT I came.

I'd like to say it was a good decision, but it hasn't exactly gone smoothly (oooh boy, that's putting it mildly).

I've generally felt a bit like a pile of c**p ever since. My joints hurt - it's not just the dodgy knee these days. My skin tone has gone to hell in a handcart. I am back to sleeping poorly, with near-nightly disturbances and a welter of bad dreams and night sweats. I seem to have an almost constant mild, off-colour, slightly achy 'heading for a bug', feeling and the black dog is a regular, if slightly distant companion, sniffing around my ankles once again almost as though he wants me to know he's there but has chosen not to take up full-time occupation...yet.

Those delightful, so-called 'night sweats' are not constrained by the hours of darkness either. My dodgy thermostat has retinstated itself so my temperature regulation has gone haywire once more. I'm shivery cold one minute, but blazing hot the next with an unwelcome return of the human waterfall sessions. Oooh, what fun!

The problem is, I can't 'just go back' to my old HRT medication, even if the medical profession would agree, as it simply isn't available any more. This has not helped, but all of this is still an excuse. The blame for where I am right now weight-wise is still firmly on me!

Exercise next. To begin with, in my 'new' job (which I still love) I'm hardly what you'd describe as active. I'm sat on my expanding tush in front of a screen all day, most days. Quite a difference to just about almost everything else I've done in my former life.

I've also been away from the gym since before October. This is a real problem, as it's not just a matter of weight and shape, but also one of keeping osteoporosis at bay so it's a pretty serious omission.

Yeah, sure, there are lots of reasons for this (a.k.a. excuses, such as being crazy busy in the job for a while so spending lots of hours working overtime, a period of illness, a bloody painful minor injury and the growing collection of painful joints). Sure, all contributed to 'some' of the absences. But the sad truth is, when my once-good habit was broken I let it continue. I haven't got back in the groove - despite having 'tried' a few times (albeit in a rather lacklustre manner).

Hell, it's not even as though I'm doing much walking these days. This not helped, but that weight gain blame is still on me!

And then there's the big one. You know the one I'm about to mention - this is all about food choices. Yes, I have fallen right off the wagon here, not only in 'what' I've eaten, but 'how much' I've consumed and 'when' I've chosen to feed myself.

First off, I dove right in and took the opportunity to indulge in 'treats' of scones and Welsh cakes during our holidays last year (dragging poor lovely hubby along with me for goodness sake). Not a good plan! And guess what? We've just returned from another holiday and we'd indulged even more!

Low carb were these 'treats', you ask? Nope! Not even close, and while we're still eating home-cooked fresh food at home a ketogenic diet is right out of the window. Keto? What keto!

It's taken a toll on me too, as I continually seem to be 'fancy hungry' and craving similar c**p.

Then there is the problem of larger portion sizes than I know are wise. Moderation is NOT my middle name, and I've probably consumed more alcohol than I should have too.

When I've been eating has also slipped off a cliff. Sure, we are still only eating a full meal twice a day generally speaking, and these are relatively healthy meals, definitely hitting a lot more than the 5-a-day guidelines. That said I've slipped back into the habit of taking snacks to work, and nuts have been a killer here.

But it's not just the content - also the fact that the intermittent fasting has taken a hit. As my 'fasting period' has shrunk, so the fat lass has grown. For this the blame is squarely on me!

For a little while I almost got away with it to some extent, gaining a bit then 'being sensible' for a week or so and losing the odd pound or two. Mind you, I never quite got back down to my 'happy' weight, never mind stayed there. The lbs crept slowly upwards, so I think I've been hiding my head in the sand for quite a while.

Worse though, there seems to have been a definite sea-change since Christmas, and what was 'just about acceptable' (who am I kidding?) when I'd reached 57kg (9 stone) crept upwards to 59kg, suddenly leapt up to 62kg, then higher again to 64kg. Yes kiddies, that's over 10 stone in old money! At that point I really got scared and tried to begin to turn things around.

So, where am I now? Well, I may be down a few kilos but I'm still sitting, unhappily, at 61kg. I know that I have to change. I'm struggling with the will to be consistent in changing.

There, that's it. That's the awful truth.

All I can do is keep on trying to get my head back in the game. You know my usual sign-out. Onwards, ever...

Been a long time...

...but I am still here, and still reading what you lovely people write, although things have been relatively hectic of late so I haven't commented too much. 

Hmmm, busy. Now some of that is probably down to working full-time again. Funny how it consumes such a lot of my time, eh? That said, a few months in, I'm still enjoying the 'new' job, although people seem to have been leaving in their droves since I started. Something I said perhaps? Nah, don't be daft. 

It's good, in part, because I'm still learning - every single day. It's keeping my mind active. I'm constantly problem-solving, and I've been a bit surprised that I enjoy the interaction with people from around the world, and the feeling of being at least 'some' help to a fair number of them. 

Having been a lady of (enforced) leisure for some months beforehand, it's been a bit of an adjustment. I am finding that I get fairly tired in the evenings, especially by the end of a week, so feel less inclined to write. Hey, do you think the fat lass could be getting older? You betcha!

Life has dropped a few worries my way too, but that's life for you. Nothing too horrendous, but you know what it's like at 2 a.m. when the bad thoughts won't stop and let you get a good night's sleep.

Another time-hungry thing, I'm still heading to the gym three times a week (for a fantastic 2 hour session at the weekend at my favourite bodybuilding/boxing gym, interspersed with two shorter sessions in the carpeted luxury of that workplace gym before work).

I am seeing gradual changes too as I am definitely stronger than when we first started. Now and again though (er, like yesterday) I do get a bit disheartened and feel like I'm not making sufficient progress - whatever the hell that actually means. 

On these days, which usually coincide with seeing beautifully proportioned, slim, strong young women doing, apparently quite effortlessly, something I struggle with, I feel ancient and useless. That's when I become super conscious of my saggy regions of excess skin, the remaining fatty deposits (around the belly and thighs in particular), and those 'oh so attractive' flabby bits. There may now be some muscle underneath, but it's masked by stuff it would take a surgeon's skills to uncover, dammit!

But, for when this does happen, I have a cunning plan. Yep, the fat lass still puts her 'cunning plans' to good use.

What I do is this. I stop, and mentally kick my posterior (only mentally as yet - I need yoga classes to get flexible enough to do it for real), then remind myself of a few home truths.

Things like the fact that I am loved, just the way I am. Such a tiny thing to say, but so very important. I'm loved by my darling lovely hubby, by the best sister a woman could have, by other family and by friends. I am so lucky.

Things too, like 'who' and 'what' I am these days, and whatever I may 'look' like, is the result of over 57 years of living, some of which (actually way too many) were lived being morbidly obese, inactive and in a fair degree of pain. You know that old saying about reaping what one sows? Well, I guess that's me. But, that was then... 

...and this is now. And I am 100% sure that 'now' is a very much better place. Yes, I remember the way things were and, although I regret a lot of it, it generates a deep sense of gratitude. 

I may not have a model's body (never did and never will), but I have a body which works pretty well in the circumstances. It hasn't failed me and it keeps trying to make things better for me. It's lighter than 'before' (at around the 55kg mark still). It's stronger than before. It's healthier than before (I think - no, I'm certain of it). It gives me less pain and, when clothed, I am content that it looks quite reasonable.

You know what? I'm going to keep on treating that body kindly. I will continue with the weights work to keep the prospect of muscle-loss and osteoporosis at bay (and I may even look up a yoga class to get a bit more flexible). I will give it good, wholesome food to eat, and clean fresh water to drink (with the odd scotch, I'll admit). I will remember to appreciate it.

Hey, does that remind anyone of anything? Yes, I am becoming more and more like my darling my Mother, and counting my blessings. Now if that isn't a good thing I don't know what is!

Onwards, and holding that gratitude like a beacon, ever upwards...

An interesting week

It has been quite a week. As ever with life, there have been some ups and a few odd downs, but simply beginning, and knuckling down to get on with it, is the only way forwards.

I'd say the most positive part of the week was starting my new job (albeit I was scared stiff on my first day), and deciding that it was indeed the correct choice to have made. Did I mention that I'd been offered another job, on the day I signed my contract, which I turned down?

I think this one offers me stability and a fair bit of scope for the future, but isn't utterly overwhelming to start with. The journey is fine and the people (I'm part of a team of eleven) really do seem to be as nice, and friendly, and supportive as I'd hoped too.

With everything that has happened in the last few years I really appreciate landing something like this that doesn't send my tentative, much-shaken confidence running for the hills. Yes, I have a LOT to learn (serious understatement), but I feel supported, not simply left to flounder!

But that wasn't the only positive bit. I went to the gym yesterday, after recovering (mostly) from the cold and sore throat which had kindly broken out just in time for my first day at work - typical, eh? When I woke up I still wasn't feeling 100% so didn't expect much more than a gentle, let's get back to it session. Indeed, I took it easy and dropped a couple of weights to begin with. But that was fine, and seemed too easy, so I soon reverted to my 'usual' weights... until I got to the compound row.

By now I felt pretty confident so set the weight a shade higher. For the first time ever I used the 56kg setting on the stack. It might not sound that big a deal, but that's more than I actually weigh! Progress is definitely being made - the fat lass is getting stronger.

Oooh, I forgot to say - there's a gym where I work too. It's fairly small, so slightly restricted with the equipment on offer, but it does mean that even if I can't make it to my beloved boxing/bodybuilding gym more than once or twice a week I have another option. It even has carpet on the floor - what luxury. Now that's what I call work benefits!

One down side was passing on my grotty coldy bug to lovely hubby. He seems to have been hit rather harder by it, poor love. He doesn't feel good, though he's not sneezing quite as much, and still looks a bit pale. Still, it is only a cold and he will get better. In that we are blessed - all too many of our friends and acquaintances have a lot more to contend with.

I'm trying to look after him as much as I can - he deserves it. So, for dinner tonight I've slow cooked some chicken legs with mushrooms, celery, green pepper, onion, garlic, tarragon and a quartered lemon. Oh yes, there are a few bits of leftover Polish sausage in there too. It smells great and should be nutrient-packed to help him fight the bug.

I've also made a nice big bowl of red and white cabbage salad (plus a varied assortment of odds 'n ends of veg bits from the fridge) so I can take some for lunch each day this week, with cheese or eggs or cooked meat. The canteen at work is nice (airy and open, and subsidised too), but not exactly low-carb friendly.

The last two paragraphs probably indicate that I'm still trying to eat as healthily as possible, with good food and as much variation as I can manage, and am still a firm adherent to the low-carb way of life (I simply will NOT call it a diet!). This means my weight is holding pretty stable at between 54kg and 55kg.

You know what? My darling Mum was dead right about having blessings to count. Onwards, chaps...

A rollercoaster day

After yesterday's good stuff, this morning looked set to kick off in decidedly disappointing vein. An email popped into the inbox first thing, to tell me that a planned interview (scheduled for tomorrow) was being postponed. 

That didn't exactly fill me with joy. Indeed, it did rather make me wonder whether the multi-coloured elephant from the last post had got the message. It dumped something on me alright, but that 'something' didn't quite feel like positive vibrations. 

Through the day, I also got pretty antsy awaiting the result of last week's interview. The longer the day went on, the more convinced I became that when the call finally came it would be of the 'thanks, but...' variety again. So much so, that I decided it was best to look for other jobs to apply for, found one that was worth a shot, and got stuck in to yet another bloody application.

However [drum roll here], I have good news to report.

I had a phone call mid-afternoon to offer me the job. In fact, it gets better. I was offered the full-time, permanent position not just the fixed-term contract I thought might have, maybe, perhaps, possibly be offered... at a push, if the wind was in the right direction and the stars were aligned in my favour.

Yep, the fat lass is happy. If truth be told, I'm even more delighted as the interview process threw up a few things I hadn't been aware of. There were just four of us to get as far as to be interviewed, after fifteen of us embarked upon a morning of 'assessments' which included 'group activities' and timed 'computer-based' tests. Whilst the assessments were not really 'difficult', they were certainly challenging. Me being me, and my confidence not being the highest these days, I didn't feel I'd covered myself in glory by the end of them... just sort of done OK. 

Now I'm pretty used to there being considerable competition for any job these days, but I was surprised to hear that this one had had nearly 200 applicants. Just getting to the final phase seemed like success to me. But being offered the job...? Yep, I'm very happy.

I will wait for the contract, for references to be taken up, and a 100% definite start date before I go out and paint the town red but it looks likely that I could start as early as next week. I really liked the team members I met last week. They seem a friendly and supportive bunch and I feel that once I get settled and used to the new role (it's always intimidating in the first few weeks) I could fit in with them and be happy and content working alongside them. I have every digit crossed.

Hey, maybe the elephant got the message after all. Whatever, thanks go to my pachyderm pal!

Positivity?

Calling all positive vibes... come in, your time is up!

On the job front:

1) I'm waiting to hear back after an interview last week which seemed to go well... though you never can tell

2) I'm preparing for a second interview this week, and hoping for a good outcome... though you never can tell

I daresay I'll report back at some point in the week. Until then, onwards, and so on.

Let's think about progress

Today brought yet more fun - another of the wonderful job application 'thanks, but no thanks' email rejections. I have to admit that it performed the usual trick of making me feel completely inadequate, ancient, worthless, a failure... [actually, you can choose your own words here]

So I really wasn't in the best frame of mind as we headed to the gym, first thing this morning, in the cold and snowy wind. Things didn't improve when we got there and lovely hubby slipped going down the metal stairs as the soles of his shoes were wet. Thankfully, though he cut his hand a bit (and doubtless dented his pride), he didn't really hurt himself too badly - but it shook us both.

This meant that as we started doing our usual set the fat lass was cold (for some reason they hadn't put the heaters on), definitely grumpy, a bit tearful and decidedly unmotivated. Even a stint on the rower (usually my favourite) didn't do the customary magic of making me feel better.

But, after a little while, in fact when I got on the machine crunch thingy (you know, that one designed by Torquemada), I realised something. When I first used it, back in mid-November, I did so with no added weights and found it quite a challenge (understatement!) as abdominal strength has never been my forte. Well, I've gradually added some weight over the last couple of months, and while I don't know what the weight equates to I'm now using it on weight No.5 in the stack. And it's a similar picture with everything we use. The weights have increased as I've got stronger and gradually, as they become manageable, increased again - progress!

Great, eh?  But what I wasn't really aware of is what has been happening to my body. Trouble is I don't 'see' any change and so tend to focus on the number I see on the scale to decide whether I'm on track or off the rails. In fact I've been feeling pretty bad again as my celebrated 54kg seems to have been quite a short-lived phenomenon. When I weighed at the weekend I was horrified to see that I was back to just under 55kg.

But there's been progress here too.

What informed me was getting dressed in my smartest clobber for an interview on Wednesday (this time for a job I'd really like - one for which I have the chance of a second interview). I pulled out my trusty grey trousers and popped them on. Now last time I wore them they fitted me perfectly. This time I had an 'ooooh' moment. They are now too big in the waist! No problem though - even if there was an initial panic - a long sweater covered the waistband up nicely.

Another marker of progress comes from my volunteering, this time not on the physical front. Though I haven't been there all that long I'm being trained to become a shift supervisor. Given that it includes the responsibility of cashing up and closing the place at the end of the day that's really quite a compliment.

So, you horrible Black Dog - take that! Try as you will, you are not having it all your own way after all.

Right, onwards....

Good health

Hey. Let's celebrate!

The fat lass is feeling better. Much, much, MUCH better in fact, and if she'd had to make yet a third trip to see the GP (thankfully two was quite enough!) this is probably what the response would have been.

Better, as in this morning saw my first attempt at going to the gym and weight training for over two weeks... and it went a lot more easily than I could have hoped for.

We had planned to go on Monday morning, and set the alarm ready to do so, but I woke up still feeling fairly rough. This was probably down to having been out for a walk on Sunday (only two hours for goodness sake) which flattened me again and led to more of those bloody blisters popping up in my throat in the evening. Hmmm, we decided discretion was the better part of valour and postponed it.

So... today. Reckoning it all up, I'd say I did about 70-80% of my usual stuff, all told. Well OK, I dropped most my regular weights down a notch (but only a little way and it won't take too long to get them back up again), and as a precaution cut down the number of reps this time around, but I used every machine I normally do (and did the cardio and floor exercises) and feel really happy to have managed it. Already planning to go back and do more on Friday.

Yes, I will admit that I'm feeling quite tired now after going, but this is nothing really and a nice omelette for breakfast and a sturdy cup of coffee will sort that out. The bug that I had - even if I still have no idea what variety it was - made me feel absolutely exhausted and incapable of doing anything much for near 100% of the time while I was fighting it, so this is a huge improvement. Boy it feels good to be back on track!

The nasty buggy beast did do me one favour, I suppose. The scales tell me I'm back at 54kg again, and have been holding steady for a few days. That is right where I want to be so I'm actually pretty pleased in a 'rather it hadn't been by this method' sort of way. I did drop right down to 52.5kg after three or four days I wasn't eating, not even soup or yoghurt (hurt too much), but I knew that wasn't 'real' and would pick back up when food was an acceptable thought once again. Thankfully, my darling lovely hubby is an excellent soup chef so I've had all sorts of 'goodness' (as my Mum would have said) in liquid form.

So, cheers me dears. Today I'm counting my blessings, of which good health is one of the greatest I can count, and it's onwards ever...

Not the finest start

I know things could be worse, but the beginning of 2017 hasn't exactly been ideal.

A rotten throat bug wouldn't have been my No. 1 choice to kick the year off. Ten days on and two trips to the doctor later, the second to get the results of a throat swab (not bacterial so probably viral), this bug is finally starting to relinquish its hold. I still feel like a limp dishrag (and still ache too) but actually possess rather more of a voice today - something almost totally absent for a good three days. Mind you, according to my lovely hubby and his kooky sense of humour, I now sound like Fenella Fielding.

The doctor also gave me the results from a panel of blood tests I had before Christmas for another little worry. Thankfully, all reported back as 'normal', barring one. That's one of the clotting factor tests and probably explains why both my big toenails started to go black for no discernible reason (bleeding under the nail) for the festive season. Oooh, how pretty! Also, why I seem to have picked up a raft of unexplained bruises and why minor nosebleeds have been a regular aspect of the last few weeks. The doctor isn't particularly concerned though, so I won't fret unless things don't settle down.

Then today, a further joy. I had not one but two emails to tell me that my applications for the latest jobs aren't going any further. I won't type the words that popped into my head. Nothing like kicking the fat lass when she's down, eh?

Oh well, can't change it so just get on with it girl. Here goes - onwards and all that jazz. Things have to improve...don't they?

Stuff Christmas...

...and with all our energy we did just that!

The 24th saw us up bright and early (OK, cloudy and early-ish) and off to the gym to get ourselves warmed up for the season's fun and festivities.

We worked pretty hard and thoroughly enjoyed it, then went for a large, satisfying cuppa at our lovely, welcoming local greasy spoon cafe to wish them a Happy Christmas before going home to bacon and eggs for breakfast which set us up nicely for the day.

The afternoon was relatively relaxed and quiet as we had made plans for the evening. These plans were a little unusual for us, as they included meeting up with a bunch of strangers and concentrating single-mindedly upon food. Yep, you read that quite right. We planned to devote our festiveness (is that a word?) to all things edible. When I said 'stuff Christmas', had we gone Christmas crackers?

Well no, not exactly.

What we actually did was meet up at a church hall with a group of willing volunteers from all walks of life and started peeling and chopping megatons of carrots, also rather significant quantities of parsnips, butternut squash and swede to roast. Together we prepared a gazillion Brussels sprouts, made humongous quantities of piggies in blankets and stuffing balls, boiled up a gigantic cauldron of creamed sprout, leek and potato soup, and cut up two lovely bits of prime beef and veg for massive pots of beef stew to slow cook overnight. We generally got ready for Christmas Day, when dinner was to be cooked and served to up to a hundred and fifty people at two venues.

When I say dinner, I'm not just talking turkey. This was to be a serious dinner - there was the soup (with croutons and crispy bacon lardons too) and an array of lovely appetisers, both veggie and carnivore friendly, and then the full nine yards of roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings.

There would be roast gammon or the beef stew (and Yorkshire puds) for those who didn't want the traditional roast bird, fresh salmon or bass for those who didn't eat meat, and a variety of veggie options too. And that's before we even get as far as puddings. Not only was there to be the obligatory Christmas pud and mince pies, but loads of other delights, including lovely fresh fruit to dip into a chocolate fountain!

While we chopped and stirred and seasoned on Christmas Eve, outside the kitchen the church hall was being transformed into a Christmas wonderland, with a tree, tinsel, crackers, pretty lights and beautifully decorated place settings. Similar decorative arrangements were going on at the other venue, but since there isn't as big and well equipped a kitchen at that one we were preparing the food for both sites. Busy, busy, busy, and we got home around ten o'clock with interestingly orange hands from all those carrots!

Then, before we knew it, we were right back to the kitchen around nine thirty on Christmas morning. From then on we cooked, and carved, and served, and cleaned up and thoroughly enjoyed being a small part of this very special event. It was full on and we didn't sit down for a moment, but didn't even think about it until it was all over and we finally left to go home just after seven in the evening. It was great and the other volunteers were wonderful people. Every one of them worked as hard as possible to make the day as happy and successful as it could be... and a success it was!

This was all done, in the true spirit of giving, for everyone - people of different ages and faiths, for single parent families, for couples, for single men and women, for the homeless, for the elderly - for anyone who would otherwise have been alone, lonely, or needy at Christmas. What's more, this plethora of goodies was provided free of charge by an amazingly caring and generous woman, Mo Fayose. You can read more about her HERE.

Yep, we 'stuffed' our Christmas with joy, and friendship, and hard work and had fun doing whatever needed doing. In part, our gift was a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. Other gifts came from seeing the faces of the people who came to the dinner, and from those who popped their heads into the kitchen to thank us sweaty volunteers for sharing Christmas with them.

If I'm honest, I find Christmas a wee bit difficult these days - not least because I miss my darling Mum a lot. But this year I know she would have been so proud of the pair of us. That in itself was the greatest gift of all, and something that made this fat lass very, very happy.

Fat Lass 1 : Social 0

Well, I'm delighted to report that the cunning plan worked from start to finish and I really enjoyed my night out. The company was great so being sociable and moving around to chat to people was easy, the venue was really good too (at least the second one was - the trendy cocktail bar where we met beforehand was dire!), and the food was just fabulous.

I'd chosen an Antipasto Misto of cured meats and cheeses for a starter, which was really tasty with more than plenty to enjoy, although I didn't bother with the bread or the red onion jam. I then had Tagliata di Manzo - an absolutely delicious rib-eye steak, served nicely rare as requested, sliced and drizzled with rosemary-infused olive oil and served with a luscious pile of buttered Savoy cabbage and those 'house potatoes' (which I cheerfully ignored). It could not have been better. Even the live music was good - very João Gilberto-esque.

Leaving those odd-looking cocktails for others to enjoy (I read through the menu and everything was sugar syrup loaded) was a no-brainer. They were pretty expensive too so I was happy to pass for more than one reason. Two glasses of white wine spritzer (albeit large ones) with my meal and plenty of water meant I had no fear of a hangover this morning, although I daresay a few of my ex-colleagues won't have had that luxury to wake up with! While the desserts looked very good (as did all the food) I wasn't remotely tempted.

Walked there, and walked home too, so a wee bit of exercise as well. Blessings counted. Onwards, ever... and off to the gym in the morning.

The Christmas social...

...is coming to a venue near me on Tuesday evening. So am I prepared for this fun and festive foodie feast? You betcha!

I used to dread occasions like this and through the 'diet' years found it really hard to be moderate and sensible and to eat and drink responsibly. But, over the years I've sorted out a few strategies to help me. Hey, that grey hair has some use, huh?

One of these strategies is NOT to starve myself beforehand and go to the venue hungry - in the past I've tried that, saving myself for the evening, and I've decided it wasn't a good plan. It was actually a very bad move for me, as everything looks so tempting and tasty and seems like a good idea. Saying 'yes' in these circumstances is apparently a lot simpler than declining!

So, how to manage the food aspect? Well, Tuesday is one of my Oxfam volunteering days and I always take a pot of stuff with me for my late IF 'breakfast' meal.

This week will be no different, and my little box will contain chopped up bits of raw cauliflower stalk (from tonight's dinner), some small chunks of nice salty cheddar cheese and some lovely Turkish olives sprinkled with Palestinian zataar. I may add a cherry tomato or two if I feel like pushing the boat out. I usually also take a small pot of mixed nuts. That, being my usual fare, will keep me satisfied through the day so I won't go out for the evening hungry.

I try to remember to clean my teeth just before walking out of the door - residual minty toothpaste taste makes the first food/drink taste bleh, so slows down the start of things. Though I don't do it now, in the past I've found eating an apple about ten minutes before walking into the venue works too, and apples are a nice 'clean' food so there's no need to clean your teeth to get rid of odd bits that lodge between your gnashers after an apple!

The other food related tip is to look at (er, closely scrutinise!) the menu ahead of time. I go out having already chosen exactly what I am going to eat before setting foot into the joint. On that subject, two courses are quite enough - no need to go for three as I'd never do it any other time of year so why do it at Christmas. I also tell the organiser what I've chosen before I get there (helps them out in the melee), and carry a piece of paper to remind myself of my selections. This means a definite decision has been made - no room for shilly shallying, no indecision, no capitulating to anyone else's urging, no making impulsive choices. Just sensible choices that fit with the way I choose to eat.

If the set menu, and it's usually a set menu at Christmas, means my selection automatically comes with something I'd rather not eat (some form of potatoes, for example) there are a few options. Firstly, you could ask the kitchen to leave them off. The downside is that a lot of venues struggle with this at hectic times of year though - their aim is to serve as many (often not 100% sober) folk as possible in short order and they may not appreciate or be able to fulfill 'special requests'. No problem, when the dish arrives just push the offending articles to the side of the plate and leave them there. Not always easy though as they often look pretty yummy, so consider offering them to someone who doesn't eat kookily like me. In my experience there's usually a hungry man at hand who is all too happy to take them off my hands to pad out their meagre restaurant 'festive' portions. I often find the Brussels sprout haters are more than happy to swap my roasties for their little green horrors too.

Then there's the alcohol side of the equation. I'm not a great drinker usually, but it's easy to get carried away in company, especially when everyone else seems dead set on draining the bar dry and wants me to be 'sociable' and join in!

So, for one thing I always drink a large glass of water before leaving the house. OK, it means I'll doubtless need the loo on arrival, but it also means I'm not thirsty and can make a glass of white wine spritzer last a looong time. Note the spritzer bit - looks like you have a good large glass of a recognisable drink (which seems to be expected), but you can get away with a small serving of wine and lots of sparkling water or soda water. Then, when we sit down I always ask for a big jug of tap water to be brought to the table (and replenished regularly) and intersperse one glass of wine with several glasses of water. My bladder helps take care of the quantity imbibed!

The dessert course can be a bit of a trial (especially if, like me, you've just chosen a starter and main). But a coffee, black if you must, makes a perfectly acceptable substitute and there is rarely a problem sipping that while everyone else tucks into their sweet and sticky desserts.

A few other tips...

One is to wear something very close fitting (and definitely non-elasticated) at the waist. Amazing how conscious that makes you of the amount you consume.

Another is to be sociable - hey, this is Christmas after all! This means talking to people, getting up and moving around to speak to everyone, dancing (if necessary) and generally doing anything to minimise time and access to the food and drink.

Oh, and if your Christmas social happens to be a buffet... load your plate with salad (or the platter decorations) before anything else goes onto it. This usually tastes pretty good and leaves minimal room to load up with the stuff your own dietary preference views as 'naughty'.

Right, enough blether. Merry Christmas, chin, chin and onwards ever...

Always the bridesmaid, dammit...

Oh pooh, bah and humbug! After the multiple stresses of the previous week, there appeared to be a positive start to this one. Unfortunately it has actually proven to be a challenging week. 

This week had a pretty upbeat beginning, going to the gym for a brilliant session on Monday, then day brought me down to earth with a bump. On my way back home I had a phone call with the result from the interview I attended a week on Thursday. Not positive news, as you'll have guessed. 

Yet another flaming job I didn't get, and I'm still surprisingly upset about this one. It seemed ideal, and my experience and qualifications fit their job description like a glove... apparently. I felt confident answering the interview questions and comfortable having met the people there. It was a small team and I felt that I could fit in and really give it my best. From the feedback it seems I came across well on the day, and had all the skills they were looking for, but... [insert appropriate swear words here]

Tuesday was alright, I suppose, even though I felt rather down for much of it. Not too big a shock there then. The volunteering at Oxfam cheered me up a little but not really enough to drag my sorry butt completely out of the doldrums. My poor lovely hubby was probably better off with me being out of the house for the day if I'm honest. Even the Christmas lights switch-on, pretty as it was, didn't lift my spirits.

And then came Wednesday - hey, it's another day. Let's see what this one had in store, apart from the breast screening appointment that is. Always a fun experience. Morning dawned, clear and cold, with sunlight catching the frost to sparkle on the grass outside my window. Maybe it was going to be a good one. 

But no, an email popped into the inbox to let me know I'd 'not been selected' to interview for another of the jobs I've applied for. You could perhaps say this one wasn't quite such a big deal as it was only a relatively short contract, but I am quite dejected by my repeated failure to land a decent post. 

What the F is wrong with me? Am I (as a friend suggested) overqualified? Is it my age? Could it be something in my CV? (hence the doctored cartoon)

Thursday went in similar vein - a slightly crappy session at the gym with no great motivation and seemingly less strength than on Monday. Probably in part down to lack of sleep, as that seems to be quite a problem at the moment, what between bad dreams, nebulous worries and negative two a.m. thoughts.

Friday was a bit better, with a trip out to get Christmas presents (mostly sorted now) and a carol concert in the evening. Still wasn't (and am not still) on top form though. 

Yesterday we had an appointment to discuss setting up power of attorney (we're getting to be old farts now), then finished the Christmas shopping. Today we went to the gym again. I'd like to say it was a fantastic session and everything went swimmingly, but it was just OK. 

I've been close to tears for no discernible reason for several days now. Not good, huh. All the ominous signs and portents are in place - it appears that this way lies that horrid downward spiral and the return of the bloody Black Dog. I have one foot on that slope, but I do not want to head there. So I need to take some time and sit quietly to remind myself of those blessings my darling Mum used to ask me to count.

Sorry for the doom and gloom. Be back once I've hauled my ass into a better place. Onwards... I guess.

Like a kid in a sweet shop...

Well, whoever'd have thought it. The gym we've started going to has opened up a whole new world of entertainment, and, a little surprisingly, it isn't based on cardio stuff we've done before, although we usually warm up and down using a rower or cross-trainer (my 'spotty dog' walker of old).

No, the focus this time is firmly on weight training (also called resistance training) and, boy, is it great fun. Each time we've visited the gym, which has been every couple of days recently, we've discovered 'new' bits of kit we've never seen before.

It really is like being let loose in a sweet shop. Should I give this one a try, or maybe that one, but then... oooh, look at this thingy over here - what does that do? Decisions, decisions.

Sometimes it's blindingly obvious what the 'thing' is for and not too taxing to figure out how to use it (some come with useful diagrams too), but sometimes it's rather more like a journey into the unknown. We've, thankfully, had a fair amount of guidance from other gym users.

Now this diversity of delights is a great thing in one respect, but a complete pain in the bum (no, not a literal one) in another. It has been all too easy to get utterly carried away 'trying' things. Each time we go we're staying longer, and longer, and... you get the picture. See, what we haven't done yet is settle on a sensible, sustainable circuit which gives us most bang for our buck.

What I mean by that is that we decided beforehand that we want to work (albeit relatively gently to begin with) the whole of our bodies. That is, use a variety of different machines to target all our muscle groups in a single session. But - and here's the important bit - without overdoing things and without that session taking several hours (that definitely wouldn't be sustainable if I do ever get a full time job).

I know, it's early days, and we are probably doing the right thing by exploring our options. We have already settled on a few machines we definitely want to continue using. Mostly we agree, though there are a few that lovely hubby is happy using but that I detest, and vice versa. We will figure it out at some point, and then we'll have a template to work with and can think about what 'progress' might look like.

So it's onwards, and hopefully upwards too.

Now pardon me if this is TMI, but there have been a few giggles along the way. The gym has a vibration trainer (a power plate I think it's called). I may have mentioned in the past that I have a prolapsed bladder - I still do physio exercises to keep it under control (mostly). This prolapse (a.k.a. my 'wee problem') occasionally causes me to leak a little. Think coughing, laughing, tripping up... I had expected that using some of the bits of apparatus might trigger the odd leak, given the exertion. Actually, I've been really pleased that this hasn't been an issue. Until, that is, I stood on the vibrating doodah and hit the 'go' button. Ooops! Instant reaction = game over for the day. Hmmm, don't think this one will become part of the routine - so glad I carry a spare pair of knickers!

The Ups and the Downs

Nope.

I'm not going to mention weight this time, since it appears to be neither of these things and I'm still right where I was as far as the scales are concerned. I suppose that can be viewed either way, as a good thing or a not so good thing, but the jury is still considering this.

Here I'm more about life's ups and downs, so feel free to move along and come back some time when I blether about weight-related stuff instead.

So, let's focus on those lovely 'ups' for a little while.

One bit of good news was seeing the supermoon on Monday. We went out quite early in the evening and walked for a while to find a good spot, then sat on a bench to await moonrise. Well, I say we saw it, but for us it wasn't exactly like the wonderful photos we've seen since. It was more a fleeting glimpse here and there between thick banks of cloud. But it was still amazing and I'm really pleased we made the effort.

Another positive is that we've been to the gym a few more times now and we are really enjoying it. We feel a bit more confident about which bits out of the plethora of kit we want to use (er, and how to use it!) and the people there really do seem so welcoming and helpful it makes you want to go back.

Oh, and the instrument of torture I called the cow (that abs track thingy) has a competitor. This one (similar to the one pictured) was apparently designed by Torquemada and can reduce this fat lass to a quivering, whimpering mass of frustration before you can say abdominals. Hard, you ask? Yep, but the beggar will NOT get the better of me!

I'm still volunteering, and am still really enjoying it too. Again, some super people, so there are definitely some blessings to be counted.

Ah, but as with all see-saws there are a few 'downs' too.

Next week will see a trip away. Sadly though, this isn't for nice reasons as we're travelling to a funeral. I'm dreading it if I'm honest, as this will be the first one I've attended since we lost my darling Mum, but no way can we not go.

I hate to say this but I'm struggling with the return of that bloody black dog, and pretty much on a daily basis I'm getting:
a) angry
b) downhearted
c) teary
Or all of the above. This happens at the drop of a hat just at the moment, and I seem unable to shake it off. The damned beast seems to have sneaked up behind me when I wasn't looking, settled itself on the sofa and made itself right at home.

I'm very aware that some of the causes are explained pretty easily (sadness at recent news and worries about the future with the apparently unending and fruitless job hunt), but I wonder if moving to a lower dosage HRT may be contributing towards these reactions and I guess a little of it relates to the time of year as well.

My darling lovely hubby is being especially caring at the moment, which is a great help. It does relieve things somewhat and I appreciate this more than he'll ever know. Strangely though, neither his TLC nor going to the gym is the solution to breaking this blues cycle. They are great, but offer only very temporary relief. I am trying to stay positive, but...

I don't have a lot more to say right now, so until the next time, it's onwards, as ever...

Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!

Well, we've been to our try out session at the gym today and it was great.

Don't get me wrong, we are both woefully unfit and it's going to be a hard slog just to get somewhere near back to our former gym shape, let alone improve. It has been a fair while, after all... and I've a feeling that odd parts of our bodies will reflect this tomorrow, for all we took things steadily.

And while the gym is a shade down at heel - it definitely isn't quite what you'd describe as state-of-the-art (one of the rowers is more arthritic than I ever hope to be!) it is a surprisingly welcoming place. Although a bit unnerving to first walk in to (with some V-E-R-Y serious bodybuilders, of both genders), there are also enough less fit folk about to make you feel a tad less the self conscious newbie.

We spoke to a few people there, and every single one told us how friendly it was, how much help they'd been given by other members, and how much they liked it. One lady (who helped show me what to do with the abs track thingy - an instrument of torture quite new to me, and one I've already nicknamed the cow!) was lovely, and we chatted about gyms and health benefits in the changing rooms afterwards. She is in amazing shape, and told me one of her motivators is reducing the effects of depression - she says the gym is better than any pill!

Another chap, Brian, a man-mountain of muscle, was equally lovely and very encouraging - even after we'd been gobsmacked (and somewhat disheartened) having seen the weights he was working with, apparently without extreme effort.

So, as Arnie might say... "We'll be back!" It sure is onwards, ever...

And finally, a note of sadness. Not going to say a lot. I mentioned needing to count my blessings a few posts ago. More than ever at the moment that's true, for one of my friends who I've known for over thirty years is no longer with us. That wicked bitch cancer upped her game in short order and, sadly, has triumphed.

Holiday, and an update

Well, we had the most magical week away in a cosy cottage in the depths of Shropshire to celebrate the birthdays and anniversary. We walked a fair bit more than we'd anticipated, mostly because the weather was so kind to us we couldn't bear to stay indoors. There were fabulous, if somewhat hilly, walks in the beautiful colours of woodlands in autumn, right on our doorstep. Talk about blessings!We ate well too, but not all that much differently to the way we do at home as we took the slow cooker with us (good plan). There was an exception to this. Twice (naughty, naughty!) we walked down into the local village and had coffee and gorgeous home-made scones, nicely warmed, with lashings of butter. Delicious!  Nope, you are quite right - although not particularly sweet they were not even slightly low carb. Ah well, at a push they were at least relatively small scones, and partially offset by the steep(!) walk back up the hill to our temporary home.

Now we're home, I'm back to the Oxfam volunteering (and still loving it) and am looking out for 'suitable' paid jobs to apply for. There are a few things on the horizon that may offer potential, so cross your fingers, eh.

My weight, when I summoned the courage to step on the scales back at home, has gone back up to 56kg from my 55kg, but I'm not too worried about that.

Other news...

We plan to go to a gym next week for a try out session. It's ever so slightly scary as it isn't like anywhere we've been before - it's a serious bodybuilders and boxing gym, but they seem very friendly and welcoming and the fees aren't astronomical. Having talked to my sister about osteoporosis (which she has and my lovely Mum had) I can't help thinking a bit of weights work to build muscle mass and strengthen bone would benefit me - especially if I plan to come off HRT at some point in the not too distant future.

We bought ourselves a present while we were away, and enjoyed the fruits of its labour this evening. It's a cast iron mincer, and tonight's dinner was Shepherd(ish) Pie, made with our very own minced ox heart. Very tasty it was too, with a topping of creamy cauli mash. Lovely hubby says he had a fair old workout cranking the handle to mince the heart, too. Time to order a couple more ox hearts, methinks.

That's about all for now. Until the next time, it's onwards, ever...