I weigh 70 kilograms, I need to weigh 60 kilograms.
We have started a Biggest Loser competition at work, which loosely translates into living in the Big Brother house where your every hand-to-mouth movement is scrutinised by your colleagues. Although this is a good thing, because it forces you to “be good” and eat well because you are being watched, I find it really annoying when Sally over in sales wants to turn her nose up at my whole avocado pear when I should only be eating a ¾ portion. The competition is tough with everyone vying for first place. The water cooler is always busy with gallons of water being consumed daily, and the chitchat around this waterhole revolves around stomach crunches and whey protein, as compared to last week’s conversations about how many shooters you downed at the club the night before. And the canteen has become a vegetable patch.
My own reason for losing weight is to just get back to my pre-baby weight. I am not a skinny girl, the last time I was skinny was about 20 years ago – before the onset of puberty, when it really didn’t matter what size you were anyway. I do not want to be a skinny girl either. But I do want to be healthy, I want to give my body the best chance I can for it to work optimally and serve me for as many years as it potentially could, as opposed to it shutting down before it’s time, because I didn’t look after it.
This week has been incredibly difficult for me. Going from someone who eats anything without restriction in quantity or quality, to someone who follows an eating plan which contains hardly any sugar, carbs or anything remotely tasty, has been very challenging. Although the eating plan is realistic and easy to incorporate into a way of life, with six meals made up of oats, chicken, vegetables, lean mince, eggs and fruit before 12pm, it’s still not a way of eating that I am used to. Firstly, it is actually way more food to ingest, than I would in a normal day – who has six meals a day? Secondly, there are little to no carbs – my greatest love. I haven’t had any bread or pasta in over a week (even though I am allowed carbs before 2pm), and more than anything, I just want to bite on a big hunk of unsliced white bread, dripping in melted garlic butter! What I have come to realise is that dieting is by far, more about the mind, than the body. Your body is so compliant, it will do whatever you tell it to, yes it may shout out in disagreement, but it will pretty much do whatever you tell it to. But getting your mind to accept an apple over a Bar One, or a glass of water over a glass of wine is where the real problem lies.
My body is craving a chocolate, in fact, as I type this post, I am sitting next to a delicious extra large breakfast platter from Fourno’s laden with muffins, doughnuts, custard danishes and apple pies, and I have to physically restrain my hand from stretching over and scoffing something into my mouth, but in my mind I keep telling myself that I don’t need it. It requires a lot of self discipline (something I don’t have) and it requires WILL POWER (another thing I don’t have). I refuse to cut myself off completely from the finer (more sugary) things in life, as I still have a cup of coffee with milk and sugar a day, or this weekend I may just have an ice cream cone, after all life is meant to be enjoyed and I do find pleasure in what I eat and drink, but I do intend to choose the healthier option where I can.
It has also been rather difficult because as I try and shed the kilos, my husband has been packing on the carbs in preparation for his race tomorrow. This meant that while I slaved over the stove last night, making him the most delicious pasta, drenched in a delicious tomato-y sauce, I had to make myself believe that my boiled eggs, tuna and veggies were a treat for a queen. Sigh. But still I go on!
This week I lost 1.9kgs. I have 8 kgs to go. I have written this post as proof – physical evidence – of this journey to reach my goal weight. I desperately want to achieve my goal, not because I want to look hot (but of course this is the main reason, let’s get real), but because I need to prove to myself that I can actually stick to something without giving up; that I do have self control and will power and that I can beat my body and mind into submission, without my stomach growling back at me for that last slice pecan nut pie on the plate.
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