Wednesday, 24 April 2013

12wbt Round 2, Pre-season wk1

I joined two weeks into preseason but took no time in catching up on weekly tasks. My first day in, and I got up- after a 25 min argument with myself, and went for a walk/jog.
Have I mentioned how I hate the cold?
I hate the cold.
I loathe the cold.
I wore a pair of leggings with track pants over the top of them, a long sleeved shirt, with t-shirt over the top, a warm fleecy zipped jacket that zips right up the neck, warm gloves and beanie. It was only 12 degrees celsius, it's going to get much, much, much, colder....
After 200m of jogging I was hot! I love to sweat :-)

Because I took so long arguing with myself I only had half an hour to train before I had to get ready for work.
The next day, my daughter had asked to join me, she takes longer to get ready than me, we still only had half an hour to train even though my 'self-arguing' only last 15 mins, not 25.

The next day, I had had a sleeplessness night and although I was awake enough at 4am to train, I knew my students probably wouldn't appreciate my mood by the afternoon. When my alarm went I had only been asleep for an hour since 3.30am. I decided that this day was my one day off training for the week.

Today, ANZAC Day, I got up an hour an a half later, went for my jog, went faster and for longer stints of jogging than previously, but not as far. I knew my speed was improving but came home disappointed in my distance and few calories burned. However, I am happy that I was taking longer strides and ran, not just jogged. I managed one stint of 600m, before walking for 600m.

Tomorrow I will do better, further and faster.

Weight ups and downs

I was daddy's girl. when most young women call their mums for advice or a listening ear, I would talk to my dad.
In 2004 my dad was diagnosed with metastasis melanomas in his brain. I cannot put into words how I felt when he was diagnosed. He was sick for 10 months. In those 10 months I gained 17 kgs. My friends from church said they watched me get bigger and bigger every week. I was 31. I was grieving.

2005- We moved again, to a bigger city.
After Dad died, I felt I could begin to move on. My sisters began to gain the weight after he died, that I had while he was deteriorating. I didn't feel that I was eating more, I think my body just shut down working properly in order to keep me functioning on a pseudo normal level. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was being over 30?

This is the beginning of my weight battle. I was just under 80kgs- 10 more than when I was full term in my 3rd pregnancy.

I gave up.

I watched a season of biggest loser in 2006 and was ashamed of myself when at the finale these people, some of which had been overweight their entire lives, were thinner, lighter, fitter and healthier than me.

I joined the gym again.

I was able to attend two classes that suited my schedule, now working every day for half a day, having three kids in school, and running a house. I enjoyed the weight work. I was always disappointed that I wasn't seeing the results that I had at 22-24 years of age. I worked hard, got fitter, but didn't feel that I was losing any weight. I probably ate more carbs rather than less. I probably just ate more...
There was a massive change in staff at this gym. Within a month about 12 staff left and went to work at a gym that had been closed for a year or so. It was up and running again. The new staff at my gym were very young, not so personable, didn't understand family commitments, didn't chat and were not as confident as the previous staff. Their classes were not as rigorous. The people from my classes also changed gyms.
A new young 20 year old instructor told me that I was expecting too much and that I couldn't expect to ever look the way I did when I was 20. She said that bodies change and me expecting to get back to 50 kgs, was unreasonable. I had feared this already, but accepted it as truth, as much as I didn't want to.

I had months of my annual membership to go and couldn't afford to join another gym simultaneously. I began to feel guilty that I had dogs that I should be walking instead of running on a treadmill.
My gym membership expired, the gym closed down and went into receivership, and I began walking my dogs 4 kms a day.

I began to lose weight!

I got down to 57kgs over 12 months.

I changed jobs. This new job required me to make appointments at different times on different days, giving me little routine. I was not able to have a set time to walk my dogs.
I gained weight.
Over two years I regained all but 5 kgs. I felt I was never going to be able to keep this weight off. I felt that I was destined to be overweight like my parents and my sisters (who were still the same size they were after our dad died).
I hated my body. I felt ugly, frumpy and exactly the person I never thought I would become.

I hated my body, I had no energy. I had trouble driving the car! Getting in and out behind the steering wheel was an effort, I couldn't turn my neck far enough to see out the back window, my clothes were getting tighter and tighter. I was 5"3 and 70+ kgs.
I embarked on a fashionable, fad, mass produced diet of no carbs, no dairy, with a  limited food intake. I lost over 20kgs in about 4 months. I was down to 52kgs at my lowest but hovered at 53-54kgs.

I kept it off for 12months!

I went away to visit friends and felt rude not eating anything they served as I lived on salad and steam veggies only.
I ate their food.
I began to think that I could eat normally now. I felt that I finally had my own body back and that it was going to function as it had throughout my youth. I felt that my overweight stint had just been a blip caused by grief for my dad and that it wasn't my destiny.

My husband loves food, junk food, good food, sweet food and any food. My husband is overweight but couldn't care less. His lineage is thick with stories of longevity despite reckless living. Men who have smoked, drank and worked physically since their early teens, live until their 90s. My husband has great confidence in his genes and sees no reason to change his diet or shopping habits.

If food is in front of me, I eat it. I don't buy biscuits, chips, cakes, soft drinks, but if they are there, I will eat them.

Again, I got cocky and thought I could eat what I liked, after all, I do love the taste of food. I felt that after being so strict, I deserved to let my hair down a bit, or a lot!
I rewarded myself for my weight loss by allowing myself treats and snacks and a little more than usual and eating the same sized meals as my family.

I began to gain weight.

I got back up to 70kgs in what seemed like no time at all.

In 2010, I got very very sick with gallstones. while I waited for my appointed surgery, I couldn't eat anything except strawberries, watermelon, lettuce and coffee.

I lost a lot of weight.

I was down again to about 56kgs.
By some miracle, and after about 6 months, I got brave and tried a bit of this and a bit of that, I was able to eat again and I hadn't had my surgery. My gallstones had been located just above the opening leading to my bile duct- had they passed through? Dissolved? I still do not know to this day. I have the x-ray showing their presence but have not had any surgery or any further problems since April the year after diagnosis.
I maintained my weight loss for about 12 months.

Again, my job changed and I was working full time in a position that caused me a lot of stress. I gained 17 kgs between April and December.
Again, I felt that I had failed.
I had disappointed myself and felt I had no control.
BUT....I refused to give up.

In January 2012, I took charge again and derived my own diet of smaller portions, filling my plate with green leafy vegetables, limiting protein intake, few carbs, drinking 3 litres of water per day, no snacking.
I became aware of the Michelle Bridges 12wbt and tried to rally friends to join with me. None were keen. I didn't feel I could do it on my own, I didn't join. Instead, I organised a group of ladies to participate in a weekly walking group. I tried hard to stick to my guns regarding not eating high calorie foods.

I discovered another friend had started the 12wbt and I was envious but at the same time kicking myself for not asking her when I asked all of my other friends to join with me. She just didn't seem the type.
Was I wrong?!?!
She transformed not only her body, but her life and mindset as well. She inspired me. I began getting up at 5.30am and walking my dog.
My 17 year old daughter expressed an interest in joining me, but was keener on 6am than 5.30. We started walking/jogging together daily.
I lost 3 kgs in about 4 weeks. My husband, now working away, was also inspired and began walking as well. I got my first iphone and discovered apps that count calories, apps that count steps, apps that track progress and more. I shared these with my husband who said these apps are just what he needed to get him motivated.

This brings me up to only about 6 weeks started to get cold, I went away, I got out of the habit of exercising, I ate more liberally than I should, I gained 4 kgs.

I refuse to become a victim to my laziness, to my old habits of rewarding myself with a vanilla slice, chocolate sundae, and those maccas fries. I must not drink more coffee than water, sneak that kit kat or even that extra yoghurt, let alone that whole packet of rice crackers!

Last weekend, I paid my fee and joined 12wbt round 2, 2013.

  • I plan to learn discipline, to not give in, to know how much and how often a treat is reasonable and what type of treat is the better option.
  • I plan to show that gym instructor (wherever she may be) that I can get back to 50kgs.
  • I plan to change my thinking about exercise, that it IS a part of life not just a way to achieve a goal and then to disregard.
  •  I am not conceited enough anymore to think that when I get my 'body back' it's just going to stay that way without effort.
 I want to be fit, I want to be strong, I want to have more energy, I want to be motivated, I want to enjoy training in the cold as well as the heat...I just want this! And I'm going to get it better than I have before, because it's going to stay this way. I'm not going to give up, give in or get complacent, I'm not going back......I'm getting it right this time!

History of my gym ups and downs

Never having any weight issues throughout my youth, I was a happy 47-48kg, 5"3 19 year old, when I became pregnant with our first child- SURPRISE!

My body although altered, sprung back into shape quite quickly. After some mental effort I accepted that bigger breasts, widened hips and a small post baby bulge came with the territory. I was not big by any means, but after some weeks was convinced that starving myself was not going to get me back into my original shape and certainly was a main cause of my lack of breast milk. I was having trouble producing enough milk for our baby. I didn't consider exercise as an option.
I took up smoking as I had heard it stopped others from gaining weight.
I didn't have any scales in the house.
I was an average size 8-10.

Two years later, I was pregnant with our second child, and had quit smoking. Whilst pregnant with her I gained 16 kgs. My cravings included loads of junk food- fried dim sims, picnic bars, KFC, hot chips, cordial and so it went on. This was in great contrast to my first pregnancy, when I craved chicken and salad sandwiches and strawberry Big M, as well as copious amounts of fruit.

I successfully breast fed my second child but unlike many others, I didn't experience dramatic weight loss through breastfeeding, in fact I always retained a 'covering' whilst breastfeeding. I was a busy 22 year old wife,  mum of two littlies and running a house.

When Baby # 2 was about 6 months old, a friend, 10 years my senior, also with a baby, wanted to shift some weight and found a great current deal with Fernwood Fitness Centre in Bendigo, entitling us to half price membership if we, as two friends, signed up together for a whole year. We did it!
This was my first experience attending any group fitness classes, doing weights, doing any formal or structured exercise and joining a gym.

I became addicted!

I couldn't wait to get there each day. I attended every class that I could, competed daily with myself on the circuit and asked staff any questions I had, always receiving helpful information. My husband worked nights back them and was home during the day to care for the girls while I went to the gym. Due to this we ate our main meal at lunchtime rather than dinnertime. We both felt healthier and even though my husband wasn't exercising we both lost weight as a result of not relaxing on a heavy meal.
My friend's husband worked shifts and was less reliable to care for their baby so she was not able to attend as often as I was. Neither of us were willing to put our children into care. I began looking for extra opportunities to exercise, walking my daughter to 3-y-o kinder rather than drive, walking 5kms to return dvds instead of driving. My friend became somewhat dejected that my body was responding more quickly than hers, staff at the gym explained that this was for the most part due to my youthful age, and that being over 30, she had to work that little bit harder. She stopped attending the gym.
I was 50 kgs in size 7 jeans, everything on my body was firm.
I felt amazing.
Friends and family commented frequently about how good I looked. I was so happy that after two kids, I looked fitter than I ever had. Before children I was skinny, now I was slim but strong! I knew that I was able to get my body back- so I got cocky, and wanted a third child!

I got pregnant straight away and continued at the gym throughout my pregnancy. Fernwood were great at altering my program to accommodate my changing body. I gained 20 kgs! However, my body sprang back better than either of my first two pregnancies. After 4 months, I was back in my size 7 jeans. My baby suffered from terrible reflux, my husband refused to be left with him alone. I couldn't continue at the gym.

We moved to a different town after that, and the one gym there, was not to my satisfaction. Also, I didn't want my young children in care.
My son was 18 months old when he weaned himself. I kept eating as much as I had when I was feeding us both. I was 25, a full time stay at home mum, with my first child now at school about 55kgs. I was busy. I took the plunge and joined the gym. I was going regularly when my husband got home from work in the evenings.

One evening a young woman that worked for my husband, saw me at the gym and told me off for being selfish and leaving him at home with three young children after he had been working hard all day long. I was crushed.
I stopped going in the evenings.
I bit the bullet and against my better judgement, put my two young non-school aged children, in the quite unsuitable gym creche (It was in a garage at the back of the gym, complete with roller doors and punching bags for evening boxing classes). I only used the 'treadmill room' as it was close enough for me to hear what was going on in the creche. My children didn't like it. It wasn't working. I stopped going to the gym- Again.

Way back when....

As a child I was active, although not athletic.

I was one of those kids that ran EVERYWHERE! I was outside as much as I possibly could be. The youngest of three girls, and a daddy's girl, where he was, I was. My dad worked hard to provide us with the lifestyle he wanted for us, which included growing up in an outer leafy suburb of Melbourne on five acres with horses, dogs, cats, chooks, ducks, goats and birds.
I would walk 5 kms on Saturdays to spend the day with him at his weekend job when my mother was unable to drive me there.
I often showed an interest in dance, and various sports however this was never really encouraged as neither of my parents were interested in sport AND according to my mother, I had no coordination.

Mum baked cakes and biscuits for our school lunches even though she worked 4 days a week. She would reward us with chocolate and store bought ice creams and sweets.Thankfully we were never forced to eat more than we were able, or to finish a plate. Food was used to entice, not to discipline. My dad was always more than happy to finish off what was left on our plates.
Dad loved food, all food. He had travelled widely in his youth, and had experienced many gourmet and international meals. He often reminisced and shared these experiences through retelling dining events and meals in great detail and with enthusiasm.

We were all slim children, my oldest sister and I, skinny. We ate quantities and calorie rich foods that should have seen us become obese, but this was not the case. We must have had fast calorie burning metabolisms. This proved to give me a false sense of security regarding my ability to eat whatever I like, as often as I liked.
My parents were both overweight.
As a teen I rode my horses regularly, jumping, dressage, cross country and for pleasure. This meant that if I concentrated and had enough interest and determination, I did have coordination as I had hands, elbows, fingers, knees, thighs, heels, toes, seat, back, chest, eyes, chin, head, voice, calves all working simultaneously to guide and direct and respond to my horse.