Weekend Coffee Share

If we were drinking coffee I’d be offering you a delicious ice coffee instead, with ice and milk and sugar. Because it’s frigging HOT here. Or better yet, how about a refreshing mint julep? Darn it, we’re out of soda.

In my pathetic middle-class desire to leave a smaller carbon footprint on the earth we’ve taken to using refillable soda bottles. Called Soda Stream, it has been available in Australia for what feels like forever. You have this contraption that looks like this:

(copyright SodaStream)

a bunch of spare plastic bottles and a large soda gas canister that fits in the back.

In fact, this is the exact version we have. It’s fun and cheap to use and when the gas canister is empty you can swap-and-go replacement cylinders at your local supermarket. That’s the plan, anyway. I’ll let you know how we get on…*

*much much later…

Huzzah, we found and bought replacement bottles! Fizzy water, welcome back. Is this cheaper than buying 1.25 litres of mineral water for .70c at Aldi? Not sure. What I do know is, we drink one heck of a lot when we have it. We’re probably spending about .50c per bottle, even though it suggests one gas canister will supply up to 60 litres, therefore costing us an imaginary .30c per litre.

IN OTHER NEWS.

I WENT TO THE GYM TODAY AND SWAM A LITTLE. Yes, I really really did. I feel virtuous in all sorts of ways. I’m gearing up to get back into the swing of consistent exercise and slightly less food. When I weighed myself  – at the gym, because I don’t own a set of human scales – I was pleasingly NO heavier than I have been at any time in the last 6 months. I’m just…squidgier. And as we all know, muscle is heavier than fat, so I can actually be heavier than I am now but a lot trimmer looking. And I’m sick of my face looking fat.

The plan is to lose about 2 kilos and assess the difficulty in reaching THAT milestone, then work at losing another 5. I need to get to the gym at least 5 times a week, and curtail my lolly and carbohydrate and alcohol intake. It’s not like I don’t have the time.

In family news, my stepson turned 18 last week. All of a sudden he’s an adult, although we all laughed hysterically when he said he wanted his mummy to drive him to uni for the first day (he doesn’t have a job, a car, or money yet). We celebrated his brithday at a brilliant Pan-Asian restaurant called PawPaw, in Woolloongabba, Brisbane. Food was AMAZING. He drank alcohol in front of us, but he’s no drinker – he’s not interested in getting wasted, even as he jokes about being 18 and drinking. We bought him a wrist watch – a proper one that looks like it came from a Mad Men set. Gorgeous. We’re also buying him a Barista course and an RSA (responsible serving of alcohol) course, so that he can actually work. He’s even talking about moving out of home at the end of the year. Bahahahahahaha. Anyway. It’s good to see him stretching his wings a bit.

In other news, my oldest child is throwing an engagement party for he and his girl, sometime in April. We’re travelling south to share in the day, but every day there’s more bills to pay and more frustrations to be had. We just can’t stretch our funds far enough. Dammit, I need a job.

I think that’s it for the coffee share. Although this should REALLY come under the banner of Monday murmurings.

I hope your weekend was a joy. Ours was lovely.

 

Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Diana at Part-Time Monster.

 

 

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Weekend Coffee Share

If we were having coffee I’d be inviting you to ignore the laptop and accoutrements I’ve set up on the kitchen table because it’s cooler in here than anywhere else in the house.

 

The air-conditioner is in this room too. When the day is hot and before the cooling breezes come through at about 4pm, the house is like an oven. So the dining room table is by far the best place to work. But it does mean my stuff is out, making a mess. It’s annoying for everyone!

If we were having coffee you’d notice I’m no longer grieving, depressed or angry. Last year was HARD. This year is a little better. I’ve pulled out my gym gear and am getting ready to hit the ground running. But not today. I WAS tempted by gym this morning because they have a fabulous outdoor pool that helps me get back into the swing of exercise, but the pool is closed for a swimming carnival, and I’m not tempted to go to the gym with a thousand screaming kidlets. Perhaps at 3pm when the kidlets go home.

Those who don’t know my previous posts won’t know of the crazy self-immolating time I had in 2012-2013 when I totally rocked an Australia size 8 (size 4 in US). I was a gym-and-diet junkie. I wasn’t uber-thin, but I was very, very strong, and my cuddle-layer was missing. I was super-healthy, super-fit, felt super-hot, could wear ANYTHING. It’s amazing when you are slim how clothes just work. I had a trainer, I worked out consistently and dieted my socks off. I looked great, felt about 25 again, looked 25 again for about a minute, and really enjoyed my svelte thighs and slim arms. I’m one of those people who put weight on their arms, so I get arm-chub, which is as close as I’m going to admit I have a body image problem.

This was not sustainable because I went off carbs and had to calorie count like a demon, but it showed me that I am capable of getting strong and fit and slim, through hard work and sustained healthy eating habits. I’m not the world’s worst eater by any stretch. I make my own muesli, I eat avocado and eggs on sourdough toast, and I don’t go overboard on takeaway food (last week notwithstanding, when for dinner I had Afghan takeaway Tuesday, Japanese Wednesday, Vietnamese Thursday, and several chicken wraps for lunch. This is an aberration while DH and I get used to my evening teaching again).

But it’s easy to be lazy and grab a pie from the freezer, because 25 minutes heating it is easier than spending 5 minutes preparing a fresh tuna salad. Go figure. And I love my red wine, so cutting down on my nightly alcoholic bevvie is almost impossible.

If we were having coffee, I’d be telling you that, once again, 2016 is the year of getting fit. I have the time, so no more excuses. My lovely community gym has a raft of excellent day classes starting at 9.30am, including HIIT, boxing fitness, TABATA, and if I go for a swim after it’s likely to give me that endorphin boost I love. My body loves being active but I have to work out quite hard to get results, and my muscles just ACHE. I hate this, even as I know exercise is good for me. But you know the REAL reason I’m having to get fit? I don’t fit into half my lovely lovely clothes anymore. I hate it when my waistband is too tight! And the other day my model-thin daughter (who can’t seem to put weight on no matter how hard she tries, where did THAT come from?) told me I looked OLD because I was wearing what I fancied was resort chic. I thought I looked like this:

When what I apparently looked like was this:

(This woman actually rocks her outfit, but I’m not quite there age-wise).

If we were having coffee you’d notice my new pair of glasses. They’re bifocals. They’re giving me a headache. They’re Ralph Lauren Polo glasses, navy on the outside, striped navy/white on the inside. I like them because I can SEE but I hate when I get headaches from glasses. Always happens with multi-focals.

So, how to fill my days. That’s the challenge this year.

What’s YOUR exercise regime? And do you rock the resort look, or do you, like me, just look frumpy?

Weekend Coffee Share is brought to you by Diana at Part-Time Monster. Add your voice to the conversation!

And the weight loss treadmill begins! (again)

Yep, you heard it. In the week since my last weigh in I’ve lost 800 grams. I COULD call this a kilo but then I couldn’t include the breakfast I’ve not yet eaten. So my diet and health kick is working well. And for those who actually care about what I do, here it is in sordid detail.

In October 2012 I had had enough. After a trip to Greece in June that year my weight ballooned out to the mid 70s and I was looking and feeling like a little old middle-aged lady. It was not pretty. I felt old and tired and unattractive. Something snapped, and I made decisions. I went on a year-long health jag. Throughout this time I joined a small PT club. I worked with a personal trainer once a week, went to three exercise classes a week (boxing, HIIT), swam a lot, did some yoga, went on a diet (high protein, low sugar and low GI carbs), and lost all the weight and more that I had put on during my marriage. I was strong, fit, healthy and slim. I felt fantastic and easily fit into size 8 clothes. I think my lowest weight at this time was about 61kgs – I have no idea because I stopped weighing myself.

After Xmas 2013 I eased off a little. Maybe a little too much. I noticed I couldn’t fit into my litmus test pants: a pair of size 8 red jeans. Never mind, I thought, I’ll just go to some more classes. I got more and more laid back about my diet, my exercise and my health regime. I had a PhD to finish, y’all! I got busy at work. I dropped my PT now as it was too expensive to keep up now that I wasn’t going to so many classes. I joined a different gym. Ever so gently, my clothes sizes moved up a notch. From size 8 to size 9, then size 10. Now I was eyeing off size 11 clothes and then, in October last year, I bought a size 12 dress. Dang it. But I was enjoying wine and the good life too much to spend much time at the gym.

Then I bought some easy wear pants and they were a size 10. Cool. I was still ok. And then Xmas 2014. Oh dear. Whoopsy-doo. All that lost weight began to creep on around my waist. Buttons began to pop. Tops began to look frumpy again.

So I made a decision to refocus my energies into getting that spare tyre removed, getting fit and healthy again, and not eating and drinking quite so exuberantly. I have a 10kg weight loss goal. Really, I just want to fit into my old size 8 clothes again.

This is what I’ve done.

A week ago I joined my gym’s latest “8 week body transformation”. Perfect timing. It gets me 8 PT sessions, a dedicated work out class, weigh-in and measurements, a food diary thingy and an end-of-the 8 week weigh-in and measurement. I have some spare time at the moment, so I’m trying to get to the gym at least 4 times a week. Mondays: Boxing class OR something in the AM such as Zumba plus a swim. Tuesday: PT. Wednesday is a day off. Thursday is the dedicated fitness class, a bit HIIT, with body weight exercises and running. Horrible but healthy. I don’t mind doing Burpees or Mountain Climbers or high knees, but I often feel faint during the class because I have low BP. Friday I took off but there IS a boxing class in the morning followed by yoga. Should go. Haven’t yet. Saturday could be a long one if I let it: HIIT at 8.30, Yoga at 10, plus a swim. Sunday Core X and swim.

That’s enough exercise to keep me busy and engaged, and plenty of exercise options. Although no dance. Result: I’m not as UNFIT as I thought I would be and my fitness level has gone back up quite quickly. Phew.

I also have an account with MyFitnessPal. This free app and account (I know, awesome, hey?!) is a log of all my activities and will also sync with my Apple Health, plus about 30 other health measure apps such as Fitbit (which has a terrible app, don’t use it). MyFitnessPal also allows me to connect with other members, it has an enormous food database, and logs my favourite foods too. I can log my exercise, food, calorie or KJ intake, weight loss and other things. It’s a near perfect app for me. So I calorie count and limit my food intake to 1500 calories per day. This is enough to lose weight when I add up all the exercise I do but it’s not enough to starve me. I’ve stopped drinking alcohol for FebFast and I’ve never really drunk sweet drinks. I’ve cut down on crap food too. And NO dessert any more (sadness).

So, there it is. A three pronged approach. Goal-setting group fitness classes plus PT, a calorie-counting diet, and an app that records my stuff and connects me to a wider community. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. Although I have to admit something. It is just as hard to maintain a healthy weight as it is to lose it. I hate feeling sore all the time and I hate not being able to eat Tim Tams. So that’s why I let my health drop a bit.

I have done this before, I will do this again.

Writing, walking adventures and food for thought.

After yesterday’s writing jaunt, I am once again in front of the computer screen, and now the writing appears to be flowing somewhat. I lack scholarship as yet, in that I am have few references on paper. Having to look up yet more references is the bane of my existence. I recently had to do an annotated bibliography for a study in which I am the RA, and it was the best thing I have ever done. By far my best, quickest and easiest AB to date, and I realised that over the four years I have been struggling with my PhD studies, that I could have been doing a few more of these, particularly now that all the stuff in my head needs to be put on paper.

Yes, I know there are books on how to take notes, and how to reference. I didn’t read them. Bad Jessie.

Anyhoo, at least I have an inkling of how this Methods chapter is going. 10000 words to write, and I appear to have written 7000 of them. I’m only 6 weeks late for submission of this chapter to my supervisor. It’s definitely my own fault. Can’t blame anyone else here but me.

So, that’s the writing explained. The walking adventure was that yesterday, when I thought about going for a walk with hubby, we did. We walked the equivalent of about 10kms over about 3.5 hours. It was great. At least, I thought it was great. Hubby didn’t. Hubby threw a tantrum on top of a mountain. Ok, the problem is this. I love walking, getting out into the great outdoors. I quite like camping, and fishing, and washing up in streams, and camp fires and cooking tea in billycans etc. Apparently when I was 9 I wanted to join Girl Guides (cubs), so I did, and I stayed until I was 14. We went camping and learned how to put up tents and light fires and tie knots (well, that’s a lie – I never really learned how to tie knots). I now have a new, mustard coloured waterproof pair of boots with which to go walking, at the very least.

Hubby hates all of the above outdoor activities. I really don’t know why. Hubby thought that buying a cute pair of suede Converse high-top sneakers would suffice for walking about in the Yorkshire wilderness. Noooo. Not really. We’re in Yorkshire at a time when the snow is melting, it’s freezing cold, folks are tramping, and there is lots of muddy boggy stuff about. One needs waterproof shoes with good soles and probably one of those ugly windbreaker jackets instead of the very stylish woollen overcoat hubby bought in The Hague. So, as we’re trying to walk round the Semerwater lake but it’s too muddy in the direction of the lake, I’m seeing one of those teensy tiny “public footpath” signs to Bainbridge – 2 miles, and I’m thinking, hey, let’s go on an adventure. We’re dressed for it, we can go to the pub for a refreshing ale before walking home, and it will be fun.

Over hill and dale, through bog and marsh, over stile and turn, and tramping through stinky, muddy farmlets is not hubby’s idea of a fun time. Nope. Not at all. At one point I couldn’t see the next stile/ drywall fence and we were on the side of a steep hill, following sheep tracks because the “walking path” had got hidden under snow, and hubby was slipping and sliding about because his shoes just weren’t cutting the mustard and he finally exploded, yelling he “didn’t sign up for this!”. At which point I apologised a lot and walked a long way away from him, concerned that I couldn’t see the next walking marker and getting quietly panicky.

Finally saw the stile – we had walked downhill rather than up and had to retrace somewhat – and waited for him to make his way to me. At which point I then said, rather quietly, “this is exactly what I came for”. It was beautiful up there.

This is where we nearly “got lost”, or “lost it”, whichever way you look at it: not a great place to lose sight of one’s self.

Apologies were meted out all round, and of course, not too far away was the ROAD. Which we followed to Bainbridge and the pub. Somewhat of a disappointment, the rather chilly pub didn’t even serve hot chips as a side dish, so after I drank a pint of Black Sheep Bitter (VERY good beer), we marched home again, all 3 miles. A great walk, and which I felt justified the very large serving of sausages and mash I afterwards prepared with a glass or two of not-very-good Tempranillo.

Which brings me to FOOD. Urgh. It’s hard when it’s cold not to eat lashings of potato, and bread, and lovely mild Wensleydale cheese and wine. So I’m eating them anyway. I feel guilty as sin, and I can almost SEE the kilos marching right back onto my butt, but we’re walking A LOT. In very COLD WEATHER. Surely that counts?! I’m well over my calorie count for the day, even with exercise, and my only excuse is that it’s hard to work out how to eat well when one is on holiday and the only things on offer at the local eating places are very carb-dense foods or soup.

Which reminds me, time to get cracking on some body-weight exercises, as if tramping about clambering over stiles and through bog isn’t enough. While I think I can forgo the lunges and squats, I am reminded that my upper body still needs a workout. Time for some pushups, planks, crunches and maybe even some yoga poses. I have to hide to do all these because I’m not sure what hubby thinks of all this exercising nonsense, but I can certainly report I wasn’t flagging at the end of 3.5 hours walking. Felt great.

And slept like one of the dead. Which reminds me, we were told to turn on the de-humidifier they’ve thoughtfully provided for the cottage to ensure that the windows don’t mist up. I did so, but we’ve been slowly dying through dehydration and I’ve had a terrible headache. Well. I turned the blasted machine off and placed bowls of water about to try and humidify the place. It’s finally working – I feel better, although still very dry. Crazy lack of moisture in the air, enough to make a singer gasp her last breath, drily. I hate under floor heating. Can’t get it cool enough.

 

 

 

 

When the cat’s away the mice….study.

This week DH heads off to Europe for business and I follow him a couple of weeks later. I’ve been thinking about what I might potentially do while we’re apart, and it occurred to me that I don’t have to worry about spending time with my man because we can’t. This bodes well for my study timetable, I hope, even as I know I will miss him terribly.

So it will be interesting to see if I can finish my methods chapter in the next week,  or whether I’m kidding myself and his absence makes absolutely no difference to my study timetable. I’m thinking of this as a test scenario for when I’m in Yorkshire on our study retreat.

Certainly this weekend yawns enticingly ahead, mostly free of work commitments (1 glossary to complete today). I’ve no money to buy stuff with and no overriding need to do anything other than clean the floors, do my washing, go to yoga and walk the dog. No friends to see or people to meet. Nothing but drive my man to the airport in an hour. Mind you, I’ve already wasted half the morning playing Plants vs Zombies and reading the paper.

I will report on my findings next week, after I’ve been teaching for 37 hours as per usual.

*In the meantime, for all those interested in my weight loss regime, I’ve not lost much weight these last few weeks because I’ve been slack (or busy at work, whichever way you look at it), and haven’t been to the gym more than twice a week. I’ve been rather careless with my diet, too, and yesterday was VERY naughty, because it was my birthday celebration dinner. So this next 12 days or so will see me up the regime, attend more gym and eat better, in preparation for a fortnight of walking over windy hill and dale, eating heart warming stews and probably drinking rather too much ale/red wine/ whatever’s available at the ye olde British pub.

Losing weight the SLOW way

A coffee shop owner recently confided in me that she and her daughter are undergoing something called “Hipoxy” weight loss. As she put it, you are placed in some sort of machine which massages you for 30 minutes while you do some “light” exercise. Afterwards you are measured. You do this once a week for several months. Apparently her daughter has lost inches! However, neither the cafe owner or the daughter has lost any weight. Just inches.

OMG. How can I tell this lovely, well meaning woman that what she is doing is BOGUS? That someone is taking her money for her to lose water? The website selling this bullshit weightloss regime purports to show scientific evidence for “targeted” weight loss from thighs and buttocks, etc, but all I’ve seen from her is nothing. No evidence that she is losing weight, gaining muscle, or achieving anything other than a lighter wallet.

SIGH. On the plus side, the trainers at my gym are REALLY noticing my weight loss and muscle definition. It’s great. Went there yesterday, tired and grumpy as always, felt better as soon as I walked in the door, when Chelsea-the-trainer noticed my new and improved frame. I had a good, targeted workout that for once felt totally doable (reduced my reps to 12 from 15 but upped the weight) then gossiped terribly with Bailey-the-trainer, and afterwards weighed myself. Despite having a horror few weeks with poor diet and low exercise, I’ve still lost another 300 grams. So I’m down to 63 kgs (138 lb). I don’t weigh myself every week any more. It’s not healthy and I don’t need it. My clothes are testimony to my weight loss, and the comments from people who never knew me as a slim person are really great to hear.

I’m just 4 kgs off my goal weight of 59 kgs. It’s losing these last few kgs that becomes really hard, and they march back on really easily, too. Is it worth the angst to drop these last few kgs when any lack of work at all will reverse the weight loss? 4 kgs equates to 10 lbs. The old 10 lbs problem. I need to think on this (maybe while going to that third gym class).

I’m turning 43 next week and to have the body of a 30 something woman is a real thrill. Slow and steady has done it for me, like I thought it would.

Hang on, I lost weight after all.

After a super PT session this morning using only dumbbells and free weights, we weighed me and found I’ve lost yet another kilo (2lbs). Woohoo! I thought I was just treading water. No. My body is clearly saying to me: run, jump, exercise, lift things, lose weight.

So, from last week’s weigh-in where I had lost no weight at all (64.6 kgs the week before), I am down again! I seem to move in 2 week cycles. Nothing one week, then a good amount the following week. Nice. I am now 63.7 kilos (140lbs). My waist is the most impressive part, as I’ve lost most of the excess fat around my tummy and I have a lovely taut waist and hips again. But Bailey-the-trainer is totally thrilled with the results from my diet and exercise plan. He sees definition in my upper body and arms and is really happy with my approach. I love my gym.

Eating: yes. Eating sensibly? Well, mostly. No chips or fries or anything, but the occasional sandwich wrap if I can’t get a frittata or salad for lunch, and I even had cake on the weekend. Drink? Yes, thanks. Red wine is fine and sometimes I even have two glasses. Pizza? No, thanks. But I DID eat a Grill’d burger the other week and it was GOOD.

Result? I’ve moved into the long-term phase of my eating and drinking plan. The one that says I can have wine, and cake, and chocolate and even potatoes. Just not too much of any one thing, and not too frequently, either.

Happy? Yes. Thrilled, actually. NOTHING fits me any more. But I’ve complained about that before. I’ve bought interim clothes and I have nice shoes. On the down side, my meal sizes have dropped AGAIN, to 1260 calories per day, which will be very hard to stick to without going over. Darn it. For example, I’ve already met nearly all my day’s requirements and I’ve not even had dinner yet. My main meals are about 300 calories each and I’ve taken to eating a protein and berry smoothie half way through teaching at night to keep the energy up, so it means I only get about 200 cals for my evening meal. No wine for me this week!

Tired? Of course. Exhausted. It could be worse. I could be shlumpy, chubby and exhausted. Now I’m exhausted and fit. Heeheehee!

Too tired…to…write

I would write a nice long post, but I’m too tired. Here’s what has happened this week (nothing bad, mind).

I haven’t lost any weight. But all my clothes are too big for me, so that’s ok. Even my size 8 pants from Laura Ashley are too big. I’m exercising regularly 3 times per week, aiming for 4, except I’m not really managing 4. We ARE walking the dog quite fast, though.

I’m working very hard. I have started teaching again, so my timetable is looking horrendous. No time for shopping or relaxation. I will have 37 hours teaching per week over the university semester. That’s one-to-one singing lessons and 2 tutes. Ugh. I love teaching, but even I’m feeling the pinch this week.

I’m finishing off a thesis edit and formatting the document, messy stuff. I’m writing a glossary, coordinating staff to get them to add to the glossary, and compiling the results for the Musical Theatre students. I’m TRYING to write the first chapter of our singing book so that I don’t have to worry about that again. This paragraph should be over by next week.

And I’m trying to finish off my PhD.

No way, Jose. So, there it is. And Poppy the dog is gorgeous, but very nippy for a little puppy. Annoyingly so.

And now: bed. Night night.

Getting to my goal weight!

Another kilo bites the dust! Actually, 2 lbs bites the dust, and not quite 1 kilo, so 2lbs sounds much better. I’m now 64.6 kilos (142.5 lbs) and 10.4 kilos (23lbs) lighter than when I started. Hooray! I do my training on Tuesday mornings with Bailey-the-trainer and the Achieve Team, and I do my weigh-in then, which is why a few of these happy posts are published now. Time to thank Bailey-the-trainer and the team at Achieve Personal Training in Bulimba, Brisbane for their support and friendship and encouragement throughout this time. It helps to have a team on your side. And apparently Bailey-the-trainer is trumpeting my success to anyone who will listen!

We’re doing measurements next week but when I checked my waist it was 74cm (29″). In my extreme youth I had a 67cm (26″) waist but I’m not sure I can lose much more fat from my waist.

My goal weight was originally 59 kilos (130lbs) by March – luckily there are 31 days in March. Last year I projected how much weight I wanted to lose by March, which was 15 kilos. I should nearly achieve this if I keep working at this pace. I’ve calculated half a kilo, or 1 lb a week until my goal weight is achieved, which takes me to April, but given that muscle is rather heavier than fat, my actual physique is already tauter than when I last did this, in my 30s. At any rate, my happiness is not predicated on a number: rather, it’s dependent on how I feel when I look in the mirror. I’m glad I took a sensible and realistic approach to my weight loss – it means I have been able to hit those goals and not lose hope when I didn’t lose as much weight as I had planned.

I’m getting stronger, anyway: I can leg press 180kgs (396lbs) with ease now and push ups are a breeze, and burpees really aren’t that hard any more. Planking? Meh. No biggie. Crunches? Meh, can’t even feel them.

Last post I reported buying new clothes – pretty much a necessity given that none of my regular clothes fit any more. They probably won’t last too long, either, if I keep this up. Of course, now that I’m so close to my goal I’m backing off the very heavy diet regime but still sticking to around 1500 calories per day. Given my exercise regime, this still means I’m losing weight, but I’m allowing myself the occasional mini-Magnum icecream or glass of wine and I don’t feel like I’m depriving myself.

Getting off the “white” carbs has been a great decision – removing potato, rice and wheat from my diet has seen a slow and steady weight loss, but I’m maintaining plenty of other carbs such as leafy green vegetables and salad. I eat enormous amounts of veggies – but then, I always have. I love my veggies.

I feel great. Thanks you guys for supporting me and my weight loss – I feel fitter, healthier and happier than I have in a long time.