Sorry I’ve been a little quiet on the blog front, I’ve been held hostage by a sick grumpy baby and a uni assignment along with a new addiction to selling stuff I no longer want. So far I’ve sold two books for a total of $4 but I’ve also listed some size 10 dresses on Ebay because every time I open my cupboard I can feel them judging me.
So why this new found urge to purge the house of unwanted items? I’ve decided it’s time to get my shit together and tackle the things in my life that make me miserable. One of these things is a cluttered house. I’m more minimalist than hoarder and given that our house is now overrun by fluffy elephants and stacking cups, I’ve decided to get rid of the crap I no longer need.
Another thing I’ve decided to tackle is the extra layer of fat currently residing around my butt and the pool noodle of dough that is cascading over the waistband of my nana pants as I write this. Enough is enough. I am unhealthily overweight and I hate it. Time to change my lifestyle and get happy.
Over the past six months I have pretty much tried and failed at almost every program out there. It goes a little something like this:
Step 1: I find a new shiny weight loss program and decide to throw myself into it…starting Monday (I decide this while munching on a French Vanilla macaroon and slurping a Jumbo fat white – the missing ‘l’ is intentional). I fill out my weight loss spreadsheet and decide to lose 8kgs before we head to Port Douglas in December. Goodbye kaftan, hello keeners!
Step 2: Monday arrives and I jump out of bed, pop on the gym gear I laid out the night before and get on the treadmill by 5.45am. Yes, I am the champion of Monday motivation. Roar! I eat well all day and go to bed feeling like I’m finally on the path to post-baby hotness.
Step 3: Wednesday rolls in and the alarm miraculously fails to go off. Never mind, I tell myself, I’ll get to the gym tomorrow. I snuggle into the doona and get a few more zzz’s. I shuffle out of bed at 7am, feed Moo, then start to prepare my breakfast of two boiled eggs with Ryvita. When I open the pantry, I notice the biscuits I bought “incase someone comes over for tea”. I stare at the eggs, then back at the biscuits and decide one little treat won’t hurt. By lunchtime I am covered in chocolate chips and dunking a spoon into a tub of cookies and cream “light” ice-cream.
Incidently, no one has ever come over unexpectedly for tea…
And so it goes…I’m surprised my butt isn’t all shades of blue from falling off the wagon so many effing times.
I started with Weight Watchers. I toddled off to meetings clutching my weigh-in book and stood on an industrial scale in front of 10 other fatties, but by Week 4 I was racking up 54 points instead of the recommended 36, thanks to my friend Lindt Ball and his mate Freddo.
Then I got microwave happy on Lite n’ Easy. I was all about the miniature pikelets for brekkie and frozen meatballs for lunch but ended up ripping open Day 7’s snack bag on Day 2. Those date biscuits were calling my name.
Frustrated and rotund, I decided that Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation (12WBT) was going to change my life. I did all the pre-season tasks – cleared out the pantry, created a Pinterest 12WBT inspiration board and stuck a pick of buff Mish with a motivational message on the fridge. This was it (insert fist pump)! I gymed six times a week, ate a Korean beef hot pot that looked like sewer water and spent over $300 a week ticking off Michelle’s extensive shopping list. I felt great! I was in control and losing weight, until…
…the 12WBT ended up being the 4WBT. Yes I lost weight but then my husband went overseas and my gym routine went out the window and I found myself wading through another sea of excuses, munch, munch. All those red-faced burpees and mountain climbers gone to waste. Again.
So what now? Well, after Googling hypnosis for a week, I’ve signed up to Jenny Craig and I start tomorrow. My gym gear is already laid out.
So why do I think it’ll work this time? I’m going to use my mother-in-law as support. She’s successfully lost weight on Jenny Craig and knows how much I am struggling with the extra kgs. I’m also hoping one-on-one consultations will make me more accountable and I’ll be able to discuss the reason I eat too much. I know it’s a combination of boredom, stress and habit but I’ve never really focused on the cause before, only the effect. Until I fix my mind, I know nothing is going to work.
So here we go. Again. Fist pump.
In Sydney before I became an oompa loompa, I can’t fit my foot into those jeans now.