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...

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.

Connie good, fat lass bad

Well, I'm delighted to say that I did get back on Connie, the lovely rower (let's hear it for good old Connie), and I have increased my morning times since. That's all well and good and I am really pleased with the way it's going. But, oh, if all of life were like that.

Unfortunately, there's a 'but' and that is that I seem to be battling a nasty case of the Januarys... or should that be 'oh hell, now what else can go wrong' January blues! This is mostly a work-related thing so in theory I 'should' be able to go home at the end of another (hassle-filled) day and forget it all. Should... not can!

It's been pretty full-on since that oh so distant festive break ended (whoooee, but that seems like an age ago now...) and things have not exactly gone smoothly since. I seem to be paddling like hell to get nowhere fast a lot of the time, and feel like I'm falling behind on planned work because of all the fire-fighting stuff!  This 'too much going on' has quite often stopped me getting out to walk at lunchtimes too, and I'm less than impressed. And the stressing and mild sense of panic also means I want to eat... anything will do. This is somewhat of a daily struggle.

Although I've mostly won on this 'eat me' front, so there haven't been any disastrous effects on my weight (er, yet!), all this doesn't do much for my positivity and, for some silly reason, I can't let go of it at the end of the day. I guess it doesn't help that often I wake up and fret about things in the early hours too so I have also been growing increasingly tired.

Worse, I'm taking my bad attitude, frustration and short temper back home with me and my poor lovely hubby catches the brunt of it nine times out of ten. Not a great plan for maintaining marital harmony. Thankfully, he's a very patient, understanding man, so I'm very lucky.

The more logical half of me manages to keep relatively calm and cheerfully say 'hey, all this shall pass' but, unfortunately, my emotional part has her fingers firmly stuffed in both ears and is singing 'lah lah lah lah lah' at the top of her voice whilst running around like a headless chook.

The upshot is this - I'm officially fed up with January. Could we give February a try please? Who knows, it 'might' be better!

To end on a more upbeat note, I've been for my mid-life 'are you going to keel over soon' health check and it was hilarous. It started pretty well when the automatic 'I guess your height, weight and blood pressure' machine decided I was two inches shorter than I actually am! Ho hum. OK, so we corrected that pronto. Not that it's a huge deal, but hey, these are 'my' records and a three percent error will make a noticeable difference to that jolly old BMI value you know.

Then I did a silly thing and apologised that my BP was bit higher than I'd expected (at 129/59). Hmm, must admit here that this was because the fat lass got a tad tetchy when the instructions on the high-tech whizz-bang machine and what you 'actually' have to do didn't tally = instant grrr and raised BP! Oh, the rather surprised nurse said, but it's really good and your resting heart rate (55 bpm) is great too! Alright, so our perception differs a little here, but never mind.

Then the weekly alcohol intake, exercise patterns, smoking, family health history questions came and went. All responses seemed to make her a happy bunny. Doing OK so far... and those bloods results (full lipid panel amongst other bits and bobs) are still to come back, but the reaction when we discussed diet was an absolute cracker.

I was asked whether I felt my diet was 'good', 'poor' or 'alright'. Now who's going to say anything less than positive, eh? I told her mine was 'super' thanks. She then asked if I was aware of the 'low-fat diet' advice so I said that indeed I was, but added that I totally ignored it.

Oooops! There was a sharp intake of breath, so I explained that I followed a ketogenic diet and this helped me maintain substantial weight loss (at this point she checked on my records to see what I had been, and 'ooohed' a bit).

Then, because she looked a wee bit bemused at this 'ketogenic' business, I started to explain what it was, i.e. low carb - yep, this seemed an acceptable thing to do, with moderate protein - er, I guess that probably seems OK, and that this means my diet is high in fat - WHAT!!

Oh dear, I'm not convinced that she (or her student) expected me to manage to leave the consulting room before I dropped like a stone from imminent heart failure. Hmmm, I think both of us might look at those detailed blood results quite closely. An interesting morning, eh?

Onwards, and a shade frustratedly, ever...

Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it's hard...

...er, life, that is... and by extension, maintaining a sensible 'happy' weight, and keeping to my desired level of fitness.

So where am I right now? Well, a school report would probably say something like 'acceptable, but could do better' (actually, as a kid mine used to say things like 'could try harder' quite a lot).

My weight remains pretty stable, floating between 54kg and 55kg so that's OK. Mind you, it does seem a bit of a struggle to keep it in this range at times. If I'm honest, I'd prefer to be sitting in the 53-54kg range, but I don't quite seem able to hang onto this at the moment, even when I do get there. I think the fitness part feeds into this...

Fitness has taken a decided turn for the not so good - I'm not the woman I was. Hmmm, nor the one I want to be. The lack shows a bit too much for my liking, and my shape is oh so definitely not what I'd prefer to see. The waist size I'd expect at my current weight is not, repeat not, what I actually see. In fact, it seems to be a half- to one whole inch larger than it 'ought' to be, and that increase is a flabby one. Now I'll admit that I never have a flat tummy (my perennial leftover kangaroo pouch sees to that!), but I appear to have a new and unwelcome squidgy bit just above the waistband of my jeans - pooh!

(in some ways this makes me giggle, when I think back to the bad old days when the very thought of wearing jeans seemed an impossible dream)

I need to get back to my daily stints on Connie the rower (sorry babe, I've missed you). I need to get back to the abs work too. I plan to do both... but life seems to have ganged up on me to foil my feeble efforts. The course didn't help (oooh, but it's been one hectic month and I'd quite forgotten the stress of exams!) and now the run up to the festive season has set a nice series of obstacles for me too.

Still, I used to be able to figure a pathway through stuff like this... so why can't I do this now? Grrr!

OK, I'll take what positives I can from this - I'm 'alright'. But I want to be better, and I know that it's do-able. Guess I need to, as Nike so often tell us, just do it!

Cough, cough, cough...

...and a growl or two.

So, it seems that the leftovers from the chest infection business still cling on and to be frank, I'm now getting pretty cheesed off with it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware that I'm just a whinging wuss. I know I'm way better off than many folks as this isn't life threatening, nor incapacitating, or anything much at all except feeling a bit 'tight' and breathless on exertion, and the blasted cough being an ongoing, almost constant, irritation. But even so... I want it to go away now please, and my poor work colleagues are probably just as fed up as I am with the repetitive barking sessions through the day.

Hmmm, just a thought but it'd be nice to have enough sustainable breath back to contemplate a return to the gym too. Hey ho, roll on the Bank Holiday weekend.

On a more positive note (gotta look out for those blessings, eh?) I re-checked my peak flow yesterday and it was good news - actually much better than I'd feared. My PEF averages have been about 450 litres/min over the last year or so (a bit higher than expected for my age, height and gender, especially given the asthma history). Yesterday's readings had dropped a shade, but even though I haven't done anything energetic (except bloody cough!) for nigh on two weeks, they still averaged 430 litres/min. I'm pretty happy because it means the asthma hasn't made a comeback nor got the upper hand. A definite positive this, in my books!

I do have a nasty feeling that my weight will have increased when I weigh this week though. My trousers feel a little tighter and I feel generally flabby and slug-like. Not surprising given the lack of exercise, and a tendency to put a little bit more in my lunch box than I usually do. This is comfort nibbling, my dears - and I really need to find a way to stop relying on food for this.

Still, even if the scales concur, it is something I know I can reverse... just as soon as I stop coughing! Ah well, onwards ever...

A long time...

Well, it's been a while since I felt driven enough to put anything new here. It isn't that things have been going particularly badly, nor has life been super-smooth, but just... well, sort of OK.

The positive news first. My weight is remaining stable at the 54kg I mentioned a while ago - er, actually about a month ago. Wow, but the time really has flown!

Yes I'd still like to skim off a little from this figure on the scales, and also get the fitness levels back up a bit, but that doesn't seem to be happening at the moment. That darned bug, which kept coming and going, then really developed over Easter and left me with a chest infection, put paid to my exercise plans, again... but I also haven't been as careful with eating as I need to be if I 'truly' do want to shed that extra kilo. I'm determinedly NOT stressing about it though - it will happen when I get myself properly together again.

Why am I not truly committed at the moment? Well, I feel like I'm marking time as we're still in limbo regarding that consultant appointment for my darling lovely hubby (I'm trying really hard not to let it get to me) and still waiting to hear from the jeweller about progress with Mum's wedding ring. This, I'm guessing, drives most of my lack of committment - uncertainty never sits well with this fat lass!

But let me tell you about something nice - that is our culinary cauliflowery adventures.

Oh boy. Thought we must have died and gone to heaven. Why, oh why, oh why have we never tried this before? We've sort of shied away from trying it for no real reason at all and, in retrospect, that wasn't a good decision. I'm talking about cualiflower 'rice' - that low-carb/paleo staple we've seen so many folks rave about.

So, to the glorious details... we had some beautiful rashers of belly pork from a nearby farm butchery (all they sell is fully traceable, welfare-friendly meat, bred and produced at the farm itself or by it's immediate neighbour) just waiting to be popped into the halogen oven to cook. You could see they were going to be good, and that all they needed was a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Nothing else required.

We also had a chunk of cauliflower lurking in the fridge which needed using too, so we grated it, then cooked it (enough to get lovely crispy brown edges) in the bottom of the halogen in the tasty fat which dripped off the pork as it cooked to perfection.

Simple, low-carb deliciousness and most assuredly something we WILL do again... very soon if this fat lass has any say in the matter. We bought another cauli yesterday and decided that very soon we'll have a go at cooking it in coconut oil, with a shallot (or garlic), some red pepper and maybe a couple of peas to make a special fried 'rice'. Watch this space.

Failures and successes!

Let's begin with the good stuff. OK, I'll admit we got off to little bit of a shaky start, but I can now say that our relationship has gone through a 180 degree turnaround and I do really like the new high-tech gym... er, even the rather unintuitive no-touch automatic shower.

OK, our midweek session was still a bit traumatic, as we were still doing our own thing without any clear guidance (never a great plan for this fat lass), but Sunday's session (with a nice shiny new pre-set, multi-step, graduated programme to follow) was great. I'm really looking forward to going back again for another session on Wednesday.

This morning I am... hmmm, a tad on the sore side. Not a groaning 'oh Lord, this is hell' awful sort of sore, but more a pleasantly(?) 'oooh, I'm aware that I've moved my body around' feeling.

When it comes to the stations, the surprise hit is something called the Wave machine which uses "multiplanar movement to simulate speed skating" no less. It is designed to work your leg muscles in multiple planes of motion (not just back and forth) as well as your core and, if you hold the handles in different places - though not sure which and where yet, it'll.work the abductor, adductor and glutes, and the tendons and ligaments around the knee... oh, and the core muscles too.

Sounds horrid, eh? Well, it isn't easy to get used to but I'm hooked - choosing it in preference over my old favourite, the elliptical 'spotty dog' walker. And, after playing on the Wave a few times, I am aware that some rather unusual bits of me are being employed. A good thing, n'est ce pas?

I also rather like the whizzy abs crunch machine which adds a whole new element (and weights) to working my mid-section... now I've figured out where to hold those odd shoulder strap thingies!

Weightwise, things are not quite so super-duper and this weekend brought me up with a shock. Having maintained a pretty constant 53kg for ages, the scales told me I'd gone up a kilo on Saturday morning. What's more, that came on the back of lovely hubby asking me if I was gaining weight (brave man!) having seen me undressing the previous night.

This gain is, unfortunately, real since it was still there, facing me in black & white on Sunday. And the cause? Nuts! Yep, yet again. This time a large bag of brazils in my desk drawer, and it's all down to getting seriously stressed (with family issues again, amongst other things)... so of course I overate the damn nuts.

Rant time...
I know this emotional eating business is a ridiculously stoopid thing to do so why do I fall into this trap time after time and... WHY CAN'T I DAMNED WELL CHANGE THIS???????

Resigned sigh time...
OK, I can't change what I did last week, but I have changed what I'm doing this week. I've taken steps to reduce my portion sizes again to address the gain, I've given myself a good talking to over fretting about stuff I can't alter (yes, brother mine, I'm talking about you) and I'm going to have a spell without my tempting (if supposedly 'healthy') snacks around me at work. We'll see how things go.

On a positive note, I'm going to have a girly day at the end of the week with my sister. Looking forward to that, and I plan to do a LOT of walking.

Gentle groans

Gym induction on Friday went well, although rather quick. It was definitely only a whistle-stop tour where we just observed and hoped to remember enough so that we could figure out what to do with the various high-tech bits and bobs when we first flew solo!

Wings spread and we attempted this on Sunday morning's session... supposedly when things were quiet and calm, but... er, flying solo with this level of technology highlighted a couple of little challenges.

Started off fine, on a treadmill which must afford the best view I've ever had the pleasure of enjoying while trying to raise a sweat. Looking out over the sun on the river and the meadows and the city roofline was gorgeous. So far, so good. Yeah - we can do this :-)

But then we had to negotiate setting up the correct position for using the leg curl (me) and leg extension (hubby) set-ups. Now we've used similar things in the past at our old gym, so how hard can this be - easy, huh? Nope - this was more a case of WTF! Hey Technogym, I can only say your purportedly 'helpful' little diagrams (on all the equipment) really suck!

Between the two of us we think we eventually got that sorted, but then comes inserting the magic key and trying to figure out how to set it up so it recorded what we actually did. You see, I set my desired weights on the stack (a nice gentle start at 15kg, just to get back into the swing), but the super-whizzy technological panel decided I was using 5kg (only!) and refused flatly to remember my actual weights when I reset them on the damn panel... er, several times. Sod it - gave it up as a bad job and just used the darn thing anyway so I could try to get to grips with keeping my movements (little green lights) at a speed to track the panel's orange 'ideal' band. Partial success, but we'll work on that.

To be honest, my heart rate (and blood pressure) doubtless soared while we were at the gym, but that was stress, and all because of this high-tech 'computer says' business. Probably gave me more of a work-out than the machines. Heaven only knows what 'those panels' think I did and what 'they' recorded on my magic key. Ho hum, give me a good old-fashioned piece of paper and a pencil stub anytime. [yes, I know I'm a dinosaur]

And those gentle groans? Ah well, the other thing I discovered is just how darned unfit I've become. My legs and abs are pretty much fine today (thank the Lord), but my shoulders and upper body in general are telling me I that I did something out of the ordinary. I'm guessing this could be mostly down to that arm bike thingy - ouch! It's not something I've encountered before but I'd call it a piece of wickedness designed by the fiends from hell!

Still, we got ourselves moving, we are learning, and we're going back there mid-week. Gottta be a good thing, eh?

Induction night is here

Just a quickie... Off to the new gym in an hour or so for our induction sessions - yep, we loved it and signed up the very next day. It's funny but, now that day has arrived, I'm one part excited, two parts scared stiff.

I am under no illusions that any claim to fitness I could ever have made has deserted me and that I'm very probably going to hurt over the next few days... but what the heck. Let's go for it and enjoy it.

It starts with a single step...

Reminder to self. Apart from the obvious - food, that is - one of the ways I help to maintain my weight loss, and not allow the dreaded fat to plop straight back onto me when my back is turned, is to keep active. Well, pretty active anyhow. And it is worth maintaining because losing around seven and a half stone in weight was a fairly long-term project (after all, you didn't gain it all in a day, did you!) and it took a lot of commitment and hard work.

That said, you've been slacking a bit over recent months (er no, let's tell it like it is, eh, fat lass? You've been a seriously lazy mare!) and that less than 'tight' body tone tells the tale clearly enough. That 'might' be just about OK/acceptable/able to be hidden whilst we are all still bundled up in our multiple layers of winter woollies (and we STILL are here in the UK, dammit) but it just won't do for when you can finally get the summer attire out of mothballs. Go out and about in a closely-fitting, short-sleeved tee-shirt? Aaaaaargh!

Time to get on with it, and put your money where your mouth is, if you want a better body shape for summer.

So, just like I've been promising myself... or perhaps that was 'threatening' myself...  Easter saw the return of my rowing (with the help of my old friend Connie the Concept rower) and the abs work first thing each morning. Oh dear. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I'd forgotten that you KNOW that you've done something when various parts of the anatomy start to complain in tandem! Still, no pain...

What I haven't slacked upon, throughout my lazy patch, though, is the walking. In fact, to encourage myself (a.k.a. to plant a foot firmly in my own backside!) to do this, if nothing else, I've been wearing my step counter and aiming for about 12,000 steps a day. Most days I've hit my target, or very nearly so. Hey, that's not too shabby, even if it hasn't really been enough, or the quite right thing for all-over tone. Still, the rowing and abs should help address that.

Yesterday was a particularly good day and I blew my target away. It was a busy one, and I thought I'd done a bit more than usual. Even so, I was pretty surprised when I checked the final figure on the step counter as I undressed for bed. I'd walked 17,253 steps in total yesterday! That comes out to about eight and a half miles. Wow!

So, the moral of this ramble, my dear fat lass, is to remember that every step counts and every step is worth taking. Just because the rowing and abs stuff seems tough at the moment, keep on at it. It will help you, and it WILL get easier as those poor old ignored muscles get a wee bit stronger once again, and more accustomed to being given a job to do. Give it a week or two... or maybe three or four... and you will begin to see results.

And it starts with that single step... or stroke... or sit-up... Onwards ever.

Growl, hiss, spit...

Hmm, it's been long time, no write... and I guess there's a reason for that.

The fat lass isn't happy. The reasons are manifold, but top of my grumpy list is the return of the cold weather. Just when the spring flowers were starting to emerge and show their pretty heads, we get the arctic blast and a return of snow (albeit only flurries so far, thank goodness). Oh boy, I do so want spring to arrive, and I'm getting increasingly desperate to see some extended periods of sunshine... guess I'll have to wait a bit longer.

Work isn't exactly the happiest place to be right now, with stuff going on which is a bit worrying - not for me directly, but certainly with some pretty serious repercussions. On the emotional front, there are still family issues going on too, so that isn't doing much to cheer me either. Adding to that, I couldn't be with my Mum for Mother's Day and that smarts a bit.

And the other reason for my blue meanies and miseries is that I'm still not over this damn bug and it feels to have been with me for way too long. I couldn't put hand on heart and say that I'm 'ill' exactly, but I'm just not 'OK' yet. I feel tired all the time, generally run down and apathetic, lacking in energy and enthusiasm and, especially in the mornings, I'm still just a little achy. And this 'not OK' stuff is reflected in my peak flow readings.

They did, quite understandably, hit the floor during the worst of the bug, but although they've come back up a little bit, they are still (at around only 400 l/min) well below my 'normal' levels. Silly, maybe, but maintaining decent PEF values is something I take a (perverse?) pride in. Some of this drop in value is down to a continued reduction in activity levels I guess. I can't face Connie yet and even my walking (which I am still keeping up) isn't being done with my usual gusto.

Before the looming black dog takes over completely I've got to look for some golden nuggets of positivity in life, so here goes. The good news I can dig out is that my weight remains stable, that I have a wonderful lovely hubby, and that my beloved curly kale is still in season... er, but not necessarily in that order.

Ah well, onwards ever...

Walkies!

 A timely post over at Karen's site today, which I spotted just as the finishing touches were going into this one. Life's full of coincidences sometimes, isn't it.

Well, I'm not quite ready for a return to the rower yet (sorry Connie, my dear), but I still have the last dregs of that darned bug hanging onto me - it just won't seem to go away. I feel grotty once again and have a throat like a saw blade this morning!

However, because I know that exercise is an important part of my 'down-sized' life, as well as good food choices, I am making sure that 'some' activity takes place and I move my sorry ass a bit. To this end, I'm walking whenever I can, and I've unearthed my old step-counter to merrily monitor how much I'm walking.

The other thing I unearthed was the information about steps per day I looked up a few years ago. Wow! It's interesting reading... so more of that in a minute.

On Monday, I totalled around 11,850 steps. I know from what I did and where I went that this is generally a wee bit less than my 'usual' habits, when I'm feeling energetic, enthusiastic and on top of the world.

Today, I got to around 9.30 a.m. and had already clocked up over 3,750 steps... and counting! I'll be off for a walk at lunchtime (albeit under grey skies, in the cold and rain - grrr), then there'll be another (shorter) walk to catch public transport home later on, and I will do the usual running about at work, all of which will add to today's total. It may come to more than yesterday, it may come to less, but it'll probably be roughly similar.

As I say, I'm not firing on all six, so imagine my surprise when I checked out what this sort of level equates to...

Huh...me? Somewhere between 'active' and 'highly active'? Doesn't seem possible at the moment as I'm feeling rather more sloth-like than cheetah-like right now. It's a nice surprise, but I'm taking it with a pinch of salt as it's one I don't have an awful lot of faith in. Still, every little helps.

Connie, lovely hubby and me

It's turned to autumn with a vengeance and been raining and windy here in the UK, so let's ditch the blues and think about some positives.

Well, I can honestly say that whatever else life is chucking my way at the moment, and there's some fretful stuff going on that's giving me a lot of sleepless nights, there are a few nice constants.

The foremost of these is, of course, my darling lovely hubby who is such a support in the worries going on in life at the moment (hmmm, maybe I'll write more of these in a later post... if I feel brave). He is such a love and takes care of me and protects me much more than I ever expect, or deserve. I won't go into detail, but he is quite prepared to change his life completely to help me and I can't thank him enough for 'being there' for me. He's a very, very special man.

The next though, surprisingly enough, is Connie. Even though I was pretty happy with our old Horizon rowing machine, I always hankered after a Concept of our very own and I'm so glad we bought her. She wasn't cheap, but she's worth every penny. In fact, I'd say, if she's good enough for this man, she's good enough for the fat lass!

Now, I can put my hand on my heart and say that I just can't believe how much difference she's made to my mornings. Hopping on and rowing (albeit for way too brief a time, dammit!) is sheer pleasure now she's set up in the office and some days I feel like could cheerfully carry on for hours if time permitted. It's like the difference between wearing a silk shirt and a haircloth one. It's funny, but it's really motivating - the knock-on feel-good effect continues right through the abs work too, which I'm also now enjoying much more than previously.

Another 'plus' is that my body finally seems to be catching up and getting the low carb message. Yes, I know, I know... I'm just too impatient!  But, I tested with Ketostix at the weekend and there was a bit of a colour difference so I guess I'm entering 'ketosis' and beginning to use up some fats as a fuel, not just glucose/glycogen. So, let's keep going this way and see what happens next.

One tiny worry though (and it's one I never thought I'd find myself putting into words) - the scales have also shifted downwards by just over a kilo in a week (aaaargh!) so I'll need to keep an eye on that as I really don't want to lose much, if anything at all. For one thing, we can't afford yet another new set of clothes... and, perhaps rather vainly, I like the clothes I have now! Hmmm, that said, if it reduces the 'orrid flap of belly fat a bit more I won't complain. Watch this space, I guess.

Onwards ever...

Missus Shift It, that's me!

Yep, that's me alright. For the last three days I've moved, shifted, re-organised, re-labelled, chucked out, cleaned and generally blitzed a couple of rooms at work in preparation for refurbishment work... which starts at sparrow-cough on Monday.

Why the mad panic rush, fat lass? Couldn't you have planned this better? Hmmm, you may well ask.

The rush is all to do with yours truly asking for weeks (and yes, I mean this quite literally!) when the work will start so I can make a plan and enroll some able assistance. The answer I 'always' got was "ah well, we think it'll be soon-ish, but can't give you a date just yet". Huh! That's men for you.

That WAS the answer, that is, until Wednesday morning when I asked for the umpteenth time and was told that Monday is the big day. What the ?*!#? Nothing like a tight deadline then...

So... in the past few days I've shifted fridges, freezers, filing cabinets, desks, drawer units, lab equipment (some big, awkward and seriously heavy) and a gazillion boxes of 'stuff'.

I've swept and washed floors, cleaned shelving and generally got my hands (and every darned thing else) filthy dirty, whist fielding questions from almost everyone who passed about what I was doing and why. Very few came with an 'is there anything I can do?' offer!

As of this moment I ache, I'm extremely grubby and a tad disheveled, a bit bruised in places and I'm absolutely knackered, but I feel really, really, very satisfied.

Why? Because I did it... And because I 'could' do it... And because, despite a return of summer here in the UK, I barely broke a sweat... And all that is in the most part because of the weight loss and fitness. Faced with this task a few years ago I'd probably have curled up and cried. Not now! It was head down, grit teeth and get on with it.

I've still rowed and done my abs workout in the mornings, still gone walking at lunchtime. I've (mainly) eaten sensibly. I feel strong and powerful and unstoppable, and there's a snippet of song playing over in my head at the moment. It's by the late, great James Brown, and it goes

Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, now
I feel good, I knew that I would, now
So good, so good...

Whyever did I delay?

Lordy, but the fat lass can be really stooopid sometimes!

I've been a real old moaning Minnie recently, mithering on for ages about not having been exercising properly and not feeling enthused to start again, and still doing nothing much concrete to change things... until this weekend.

This weekend I bit the bullet, and it saw me back on the rower in the mornings. Hey, do you know what? It's great! OK, it isn't easy - in fact I puffed and blew like a grampus after my first stint, but the good news is that I'm back in the saddle (or on the rowing seat, anyhow).

My shoulders surely do know I'm doing it (ouch!), but my legs have been managing without a problem, and I've already upped my number of strokes after just a few short days. I'll be back up a respectable level before you know it... and that's a promise to myself!

I've also hauled the abs torture instrument out of mothballs and am back to that too. Er, my poor old belly muscles are noticing that I'm insisting on them doing some work... my belly's telling me loud and clear this morning that it isn't used to the trauma. But, it'll shut up soon enough if I keep at it... and I intend doing just that.

And the benefits of the increased exercise will be? A bit more tone back in the old bod (especially around the mid-section) and a whole lot more energy! My poor achy knees are already feeling easier.

Onwards ever...

Walking the tightrope....

...and occasionally falling off?

I don't like to admit to this, but I'm going to. I've been struggling for a while. Struggling a lot, somehow, but not in a practical manner. Rather more of an internal struggle, often in the form of a battle with my inner child.

With some good news and an end in sight to my darling lovely hubby's health problems (well, we think that's pretty much the case), life 'ought' to be straightforward and cheery and I 'should' be happy as a lark, but somehow things are not quite like that.

Hmmm, so what's been going on here? Blowed if I can figure it out yet, but let's get it down in black and white and see if that helps.

When I look back at the last month or two, I've had spells where I seem to have sunk into a bit of a pit, and have lost the incentive (interest?) to look after 'me' properly. This bit sounds really silly, but I haven't even been taking care of those little personal things, like shaving my legs or painting my toenails. Sure I got my hair cut, but I'm not too fussed about the results of that even.

My eating has slipped, quite badly, for short periods. My inner brat bellows "I want" very loudly and 'me' has been giving in to her raucous demands just to shut her up. Then I realise what's going on and I get it back in hand... for a while, until it happens again.

I'm not exercising daily as I should be. Huh? Why ever not? I would usually do my exercises willingly and get pleasure from it. At the moment, it all seems a huge chore to be endured not enjoyed.

As you'd imagine, the combination of poor food choices and lack of exercise is having the expected effect - my waistband has got tighter and weight has been fluctuating.

Not very happy to say this aloud, but a week or two ago I was nearly half a stone heavier than I want to be [picture a horrified face here, à la Edvard Munch's 'Scream'].

I had begun to feel old and tired most of the time. My joints were beginning to complain and I'd started to look pretty darned flabby, not toned. Er, although I've managed to shed some of those pounds, I still feel that I look flabbier than I want to... and that's despite some assurances from lovely hubby that I'm not really turning into a complete jellified blob again.

The worst part is that I 'know' what I have to do to get back on track... but just can't find the will/energy/self-discipline to get up and at it, then keep on keeping at it.

Buffetted by the strong side-winds of life's stresses, I can feel myself wobbling on my tightrope and feel in real danger of falling. So far, when I've slipped,  I've just about managed to grab hold of the rope on my way past and pull myself to my feet again, but look out! There's peril ahead. I'm likely to miss my grip at some point, and I know if that happens my own personal 'gravity' will take over. It's an awfully long way down from here, and it won't be a comfortable landing. Worse, I'll have a serious battle to haul myself back up onto the rope. My weight loss efforts over the years will have been wasted.

I'm also scared that, if that happens, it'll sink me deep into the black despair I've felt in the past and that's just hovering in the periphery at the moment. Something needs to change.

It may be, in part, a reaction to the emotional roller-coaster ride of the last year, with periods of intense stress and spells of relative calm, but no real resolution until recently.

It may be, in part, that it hasn't been possible to take a break - almost all of my annual leave allowance has been used when lovely hubby came out of hospital after the various rounds of eye surgery. Boy, I could do with a holiday, but...

Whatever the cause, I need to take full control. It is MY choice, and my choice alone, whether I descend off the rope into a crumpled (and obese) heap, or whether I hold up my head and walk onwards, despite the odd wobble.

The plan is to choose the latter path. Onwards ever...

Feeling fighting fit

OK, so that isn't strictly 100% accurate but it ain't too far off either. Life feels pretty good.

Lovely hubby and I went for a fabulous two-hour stint at the gym over the weekend and had a whale of a time. It was brilliant, really quiet (there was a local half-marathon on which kept the numbers down), and even the showers were warm this time. We both LOVED it, and came out of there into the glorious spring sunshine buzzing with energy and dancing with joy! In fact we went for quite a long walk afterwards too.

That pesky asthma-beast behaved itself quite politely and let me do everything I wanted to, with only a little coughing to remind me he hadn't gone away completely. C'mon beast... it's about time you went into hibernation!

As to feeling fit, well a small proportion of me (mainly around the pecs and shoulders) is a tad achy-sore this morning, but that just proves I did some work, n'est ce pas?

I decided to mix things up a little and do some different cardio stuff, rather than my usual routine, and also to add in some additional weights work. It went really well, although I struggled with the newer version of the elliptical (see picture) to begin with, at least until I got the hang of it and got into my stride. For some reason I started off backwards on this new one!

It's amazingly different to the old-style one that I'm used to using, but in a good way as it's very smooth. I shouldn't really be surprised, I guess. After all, the new stair-stepper is a world away from the squeaky, clunky older ones too. Hmmm, one other thing I noticed was that I am urgently in need of a new gym bra. The old one doesn't really fit any longer and certain parts of my anatomy were somewhat less comfortable than the norm. Must do something about this, pronto.

I do love our gym - there's none of the neon-lycra-clad poseur brigade about it's clientele and it is so good to have well-qualified and helpful staff at hand to show you exactly how to set up and use 'new' bits of gym equipment correctly. I had almost worked it out for myself, but confirmation from one who 'knows' is very reassuring.

The daily morning rowing stints are going pretty smoothly too (if still a bit of a daunting prospect when the alarm goes off at 5 a.m.!), and I'm looking around for other abs exercises I could use in our all too short period of time in the mornings, to give me a little variation in what I do.

From a food standpoint, things are also back to going pretty well. I was a bit naughty last week (actually quite a lot naughty, and paid for it with a smallish gain) but am back to sense and good healthy eating again so that excess should come back off without too much trauma.

Onwards ever...

Move it

OK, so the gym and the rower has been off the agenda for a while (Grrr! Thanks asthma, I don't think!) but that doesn't mean I haven't found some ways to keep my posterior moving.

Most of this has been through walking, using the stairs not that tempting lift, and some half-hearted abs stuff. Sure, it's been a wheezy experience a lot of the time, but I have not given up. And it's this movement that has largely helped to save my bacon, I think, and means I haven't turned back into the giant flab monster once again. And, just let me assure you, it wouldn't take all that much.

Constant vigilance is definitely the watchword for keeping weight off, methinks. Seeing it as a 'lifestyle' choice not a diet, and remembering the health reasons for wanting to lose the weight from the beginning, is of the essence.

Making sure I move every single day, even if not up to my usual standards, is such an important thing for this fat lass. I just cannot stress enough how much it helps me, nor how different this is to my previous way of life in my obese days when a nice sit down was my aim for much of the time. Even if I 'could do better', doing something is vital. In many ways, doing at least 'some' exercise is as, if not more, important than good eating these days.

That's not to say I could (or would even want to) go back to my old bad habits in the food department. It's amazing to think I would miss my fresh fruit and veggies and oatmeal far more than I would enjoy a bowl of chips, a box of chocs or a full English fry-up.

Somehow though I can understand the change in my tastes, and this helps keep the eating on track. But never in my life was I ever someone who was considered (or considered myself) remotely 'sporty' and I am actually a confirmed exercise-phobe... particularly if 'exercise' involves any sort of 'team' activity. Bleh!

I can't begin to account for my sea-change in approach to movement. I suppose finding things I can do which pander to my 'loner' tendencies has been of great help. Walking and my indoor rowing is not competitive in the least and that works for me. Whatever the cause of the change in 'me' I'm just grateful for it.

Finding what works 'for me' has been the biggest help to getting the weight off in the first place and keeping it off. I guess the message in this is to listen to your body and figure out what it is trying to tell you. When you've heard what it has to say, and understood what it wants from you, do your body a favour and act on its requests. But if you don't get it quite right at first and it needs a little tweaking, then tweak. Between you, you'll figure it out.

The right direction

Once again I'm moving in it... albeit slowly.

Although the chest is still a bit problematic (thanks to the inhalers it's manageable though) I got back on the rower this morning. Oooooh, but that was rather hard going she says... putting it mildly! My stamina seems to have dropped to near zero so I didn't stay at it too long and was shaking and felt weak as a kitten when I got off. Still, it's a start.

I did a shortened version of the abs stuff too - again not finding it anything like easy, but it was do-able. All this activity sort of caught up with me on my way into work though, with a massive coughing bout so an enforced break at a coffee shop with the inhalers to the rescue. But I'll keep at it and it'll improve.

Foodwise, things are better too and the carbs and comfort food are not quite as magnetically attractive as they seemed. The scales are beginning to reflect this with a small loss. Yep - the correct direction, and there is only one way... straight on, right?

OK, let's see what this week brings.

Wonderful weekend, miserable Monday, but a tolerable Tuesday?

Saturday brought us quite a bit of walking, which was lovely, but also quite a bit of sitting down (on a coach journey to visit a friend, which took about three hours each way). It also brought pretty moderate and reasonable eating, as I could happily portion share with my friend as her appetite and mine are quite similar, with neither of us often stretching to eat complete restaurant portions. A successful day, all told.

And Sunday? Well, we didn't make it to the gym, as we'd planned, but the deeper than expected snow meant we both had a darned good workout anyway, clearing the white stuff from all the paths for about an hour and a half to two hours just after first light. I guess that counts as decent exercise, eh? Certainly feels like we used a few muscles. It was pretty though and, boy, it was C O L D!

Food was once again quite decent. We had planned to treat ourselves to a naughty-but-nice bacon buttie at the local greasy spoon after our exertions, but went indoors for home-made porridge instead (just polishing my halo as I write). The hearty winter stew we cooked up in the slow cooker for a late lunch was a good thing too. Not only was it tasty and warming (with a healthy dose of garlic, cinnamon and cumin), but I'd got carried away with the prep so it contained way more veggies (of all sorts) than it did meat. What's more, when we started dishing it up we decided there was too much, so it'd do us for two days. Guess what was going to be on the menu Monday night.

Unfortunately, the good news sort of ends there. After a great morning, I started feeling pretty rotten in the afternoon and actually went back to bed for a few hours late on in the day as I felt so groggy. I ended up having a very uncomfortable and pretty sleepless night on Sunday, with bunged up sinuses, an aching jaw (hmmm, coincidence?) and a throat like raw meat.

Getting up on Monday morning was hard work, and I really didn't appreciate slithering into work in the icy slush. Not a great day. It felt like my day at work was only made possible by throat sweets and paracetamol aplenty, although I felt a teensy bit more human later in the day than I did first thing. Flagged by evening though, as you do.

Today saw a little bit of an improvement. Although the bug is still rampant I had a somewhat better night so have felt slightly less 'orrible! My headache is down to manageable proportions, but the throat is still quite a picture. Not only do I have the swollen,tender and undercooked steak look but I've sprouted a couple of odd yellowy-white spots too. If this doesn't go away pretty soon I may have to take it to the doc. Until then, throat sweets 'r us. Unfortunately, not being used to so much sugar, I've now broken out in mouth ulcers to add to the fun. Ho hum.

Here's to a reasonable rest of week. Onwards ever.