"No, you USED to write a blog!"

Harsh. But true. I was rightly corrected by my friend when I mentioned writing my blog, but it's just as well because it has made me pull my finger out and start up again. 

Now, I don't normally get busy — I'm far too lazy. But everything was going fine until it Got Busy. I was exercising every day, watching my food intake, losing weight… In fact, prior to my holiday, I was stressing about all the 'Shred' days I would be missing and working out what exercises I could do whilst I was away. So, off I went up north, and this is what happened:

Day 1 of Scotland Holiday : squats and sit-ups, feeling the burn
Day 2 of Scotland Holiday : nothing.
Day 3 of Scotland Holiday : nothing.
Day 4 of Scotland Holiday : nothing.
Day 5 of Scotland Holiday : nothing.

You get the gist.

Instead, I ate my way through my 8-night break — a Scotch pie here, a doughnut there, chocolate treats, steak, chips, cheesecake, fucking expensive ale, gourmet crisps... We walked a fair amount in the day, but I felt obese by the end of it. Even the boyf gave my tum a bit of a weird look at one point. I would have been more upset, but even I was concerned at how rotund I was. I got on the scales when I got back and I had only put on 2.6lbs, which was actually a nice surprise, as I felt about half a stone heavier if I'm honest. 

But then when we came back, it was my birthday. And then it was the bank holiday. And then it was even harder to be good, as healthy eating was a hazy, tasteless memory. Chuck on another pound or two. BF asked me if I was going to exercise one morning and I bit his head off: "STOP ASKING ME — I WILL START. IT IS ALWAYS IN MY HEAD!". I just needed to motivate myself. I always know when enough is enough because eating nice things stops delivering any pleasure. Samosas taste mediocre, chocolate cookies taste sickening and I get bored of eating Chinese takeaway. 

But one evening, the realisation was all too much and I freaked out. I contacted my sister to give me a virtual slap over texts, which she did. It helped. I got on the exercise bike the next day, started getting back on MFP and generally got into Looking-After-Myself mode. And it feels really good to be in control again (not as good as when I have a chip butty in my hand, but you know what I mean). 

Annoyingly, I was just over a third of the way through the 30 Day Shred before I went away, but I have come to the conclusion that it makes more sense to start it again. So now my next session will be Day 3. It's not all bleak though, as I've been using heavier weights this time round and it feels like I'm getting more of a workout, which is obviously better. 

I need to get stuck into a mindless-but-healthy routine again. Same breakfast, same lunch, same snack, etc. Just so its all pre-decided. I'm going to try and be more organised next week and a bit more strict. 

Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood has been a fave tune on the bike, and I'm back having an affair with Jillian Michaels again. She is so muscly :-) 

"You wanna look like a burrito in your prom dress, huh blondie?"

I've had two mates yelling at me for not writing my blog, so I'm doing it now! LOOK! This is not supposed to be a bi-monthly blog, so my apologies.

So, I think the last time I wrote an entry, I was lamenting having a social life. Well, since then, I've done nothing, mainly because all my friends got pissed off with that post and stopped inviting me out…KIDDING! It's just been quieter, and thank god. Because since then I have actually lost some fucking weight! I have really tried to be careful with everything I eat at the moment — I actually feel guilty eating out mid-week now so I try to avoid it, but it seems to have paid off because in a fortnight I have lost 2.8lbs. Thank FUCK.

I haven't managed to stay on a slow-and-steady 1350 calories a day — it's more of a weekend-binge-plus-two-fast-days-to-try-and-rectify-the-damage kinda thing. Although, to be fair, my fast days have been pretty shoddy over the last few weeks — the less said about them the better. But I'm not getting too hung up on it at the moment. And on the weekends, I do try not to eat vast amounts and stay around the 1500/1700 mark, which has probably helped me start losing again.

I finished six weeks of heavy lifting, so now my next exercise regime (I am trying to change it up every 6-8 weeks) is my Jillian Michaels : 30 Day Shred DVD. It's only 30 minutes long in total, but it is reasonably tough. I dabbled with the idea of buying the Insanity programme after I saw someone on Facebook with amazing results, but I know myself well enough to realise that I am not going to like or continue doing an hour of very intense training first thing in the morning, six days a week, for 60 days straight. One thing I have learnt from reading up on exercise advice is that you should actually enjoy it. Now, I'm not saying that I enjoy lifting weights more than I enjoy eating a bag of crisps on the couch in my Dalmatian-print dressing gown whilst watching Friends, BUT I do get some kind of kick out of it. So I saved myself £100 and spent £5 on Jillian instead.

I was a bit worried that seeing as I always try to do some some kind of exercise (I'm not saying I'm amazing or anything here!) that I would find it a bit easy, but that hasn't been the case. It's split into three levels, and you do each level ten times. I'm still on Level 1 and I haven't quite been able to get through the whole thing without stopping at all (really need to focus on my last few sessions), so it is tough enough. Some reviews said people thought they were going to have heart attacks, some people were dripping with sweat, some people couldn't walk for three days (???), but I was fine. These people must have done no exercise EVER, but it made me feel like my body isn't as useless as I always think it is. It's basic circuit training, and its nice and straightforward. Apparently it's Level 2 that's the bitch, so I'm bracing myself for that… Oh, and I took some very unflattering pics of me in un-matching pants to do a compare-and-contrast once I've finished, just to see if there are any changes. I know two things will happen: 1) I won't look any fucking different, and 2) my phone will almost certainly get stolen in the next few weeks.

But so far, I really like it. Jillian is a refreshing change from fucking Davina McCall and her stupid, shit jokes that I am used to — and sick of. Jillian was the fitness expert on The Biggest Loser, so she talks to you more like a personal trainer, which I really love. She is a bit of a 'dude', and calls her helpers 'buddy' but I also like that. I mean, men will find her very typical of fitness DVDs (BF walked in whilst she was on once and just went "Oh nooooooooooo!" and started mimicking her and laughing) but I think women are a bit more used to the cheesiness of workout DVDs. I like someone shouting "abs like this don't come for free", "you gotta push though this", and "your neck is not invited to this party!" at me. The title of this post is from another of her DVDs (apparently), and I think it's fucking brilliant. Oh, the imagery… Also, when she tells you that she has seen people who weigh 400lbs do jumping jacks (so you have no excuse not to), it really does spur you on.

Whilst I do love this DVD, it is a bit more cardio-based — and it's really making me miss my weights sessions! Never thought I would say that in a million years, but I love feeling that I have muscles. So I am going to have to fit in some lifting twice a week I reckon… I don't really fancy doing it after work, but even if it's only 15 minutes twice a week, that' not exactly hard to find. If Obama has time to exercise…

I have also realised that I don't do my push-ups properly. I mean, I do the proper ones (not lady ones), but since setting up a mirror to check out my form, I am DEFFO doing them wrong. In fact, so are you probably. Watch a few videos on YouTube — one's arms are supposed to be much closer to one's body… Who the fuck knew this??? Not me. I can bust out 10 of my shit press ups, but I reckon I would struggle to do even one the proper way. So I am just going to have to train myself — by the end of the year, I would like to be able to do 20 PROPER push ups. Even if I can only do one at first, it will be proper. Then I can move on to two. It's going to be slow but I was to be able to bust a bunch out like Gwen Stefani in that Just A Girl video… [HA, I just went to check out a video of her doing them and even hers aren't TOTALLY perfect! But they nearly are and she looks amazing.]

Wow, this was quite an exercise-heavy post. You'd think I was as buff as hell given how much I have waffled on about it! Ok, so let me sum up with some more cheery info — food! The best thing I've eaten recently was at a pub in Camden called the Lock Tavern. They do the Big Apple hot dogs that I mentioned in my FEAST post, and I still maintain that they are the best hot dogs that I have ever eaten. Fucking amazing. Even my veggie mate was almost tempted to take a bite! And of course, I have no fucking pictures of it. 

Also, a word of advice : don't ever worry about being the person who turns up at a friend's house with low fat crisps to snack on — there is no shame in that. The only shame is when you get home and realise you have just eaten half a bag of tortilla chips when you could have eaten half a bag of Popchips. Your hips will thank you, as will mine. Next time. 

The Trouble With Having A Social Life

Sorry for missing a post again last week. I did absolutely nothing, so there was nothing to say. And obviously, I went up by 1.5lbs again. This is not news to anyone, given that it has  been happening for 7 weeks now, so really not worth telling you. BUT THEN I went up a pound further and broke the cycle, except in the wrong direction. FUCK.

I've been trying to set my brain right and make a few lifestyle changes. One thing I have done is not leave any food at work. Nothing. Crisps, chocolate, crackers, fruit — all gone. All lunches are now prepared after dinner (when I am not hungry) and that's all I'm allowed to bring in. Seeing as I have no willpower at all, I've just had to remove everything. And it seems to be working, which is really good news. However, I made the mistake of implementing this on a week where I was eating out three times, so I probably won't get to appreciate the results as much. But next week should be better! 

On the subject of eating out — I think I have finally fulfilled all my dinner plans with people. Being social is a fucking bastard. Everyone is too busy to meet up around Christmas, then everyone is skint in January, so come February, everyone wants to start catching up again. Fucking hell, I've never been so busy (well, busy for me!). I am used to having pages and pages of my diary having nothing on them except for eyebrow threading appointments, but since February I have been involved with the following: dinner with bf's mates, work lunch, food market, dinner with my friends, surprise party, work dinner, dinner with bf's mates, dinner with my mates, dinner with BlogMate, dinner with Aunt, and late lunch with my sister. Now this might not seem terrible for someone with willpower, but for me, it's a fucking minefield. 

Since Saturday last week I had tried to be quite strict with my calorie intake and I was doing pretty well, but then I went to my friend's for dinner. They were all having pizza and seeing as the calories were just too much, I decided to go for something a little less calorific so I could enjoy the other snacks and desserts that I knew would be there. This was all fine until it was revealed that one of mate's had bought garlic bread. I could have said no (and I am in no way blaming her AT ALL) but I am so shit that I ended up having two slices of garlic bread, plus a quarter of her Chicago Town pizza. Calories over goal? 407. Motherfucker. I only decided to check calories AFTER I had eaten it, which I won't be doing again! I was so annoyed at myself. Whilst I can control food at work, I really need to work on controlling it in other areas. My friend that we were visiting has a bf and he has lost loads of weight by basically going vegan (I think). He was there that night, and when garlic bread or pizza was offered to him, he just said "No thanks" very easily. No drama, no "Oh my god, no, I really shouldn't… oh go on then", nothing. He just politely declined and that was it. I have no idea if he wanted garlic bread or not, but I am sure that it must have involved some strength of will. I wish I had that. There were a few other spare bits of pizza being offered to me — I'm back to being a human bin! Maybe that is the next thing to work on — staying focussed. Food is always there — I don't ALWAYS have to eat it.

The next day (Wednesday night), I went to Bodeans with BlogMate. We'd had this booked in the diary for a couple of months so we were VERY excited. But that all changed when they told us a wait for a table was going to be 1hr 45mins. What the fuck? In Soho, where there are a million other restaurants? At 6.30pm? It wasnt even a newly opened! Thankfully, BlogMate said that would be too long (I was actually contemplating the wait), but the waitress told us that they could seat us in the upstairs area, which was all long, tightly packed sharing tables… Now, given that Bodeans is based on traditional American rib shacks with chicken wings and pulled pork and BBQ sauce and burgers, I was slightly worried about sitting quite so close to strangers and eating what was bound to be a messy meal… It was also annoying that the Boss Hog Platter that we were going to get was not available upstairs, but it would have been too childish to leave because of that. To be fair, I needed a moment to come to terms with that fact (boo-hoo!), but once we had ordered something very similar, I was fine. 

The food was excellent and I probably ate a little too much, but fuck it — this was AN EVENT. Then we went for peppermint tea and (small pots of) gelato — a thoroughly pleasant evening with excellent company. On the way home, I did try to work out the calories for every thing: turns out I would have had to not eat any food for the next two days to make up for extra calories. Fucking great. I figured the best thing to do was just move on and be good for the next two days until Weigh Day. I can't turn back time — I'm not Cher.

Thursday was a fasting day, and after all that fucking protein, thank fuck. I have actually got back on the fasting again, which has just made life a lot easier this last week. It's not as bad as I remember it, and having no food in the office made it a lot easier actually. It's the only way I'm going to lose any weight and I know it works for me when I actually do it. Also, every time I have been slogging away on the exercise bike or doing weights this last week, I reminded myself that if I dont eat less, breaking a sweat is all for nothing. I will never see the muscles I have worked quite hard to develop — they will just sit there under all the fat from over-eating. The website I posted last week stressed that losing weight is 80% what you eat, so I really need to keep that in mind. 

Friday I ended up doing all-you-can-eat Chinese with my sis and Aunt. We overestimated our eating capabilities and almost had to resort to stashing some of it away secretly in a tupperware box I happened to have in my bag. But thankfully (or unthankfully, depending on whether you are looking at wastage charges or waistage charges, fnar fnar!), we took a breather and managed to finish it. Except for the chicken satay, which was too dry. I really will eat anything, but this was more like beef blimming jerky. Anyway, I went home feeling guilty but also ready to start afresh on Saturday: next week, I will be watching my calories like a fucking HAWK…

Back in the fasting groove and looking at new recipes, I found something quite good: zucchini spagetti! I know we call it a courgette, but the former sounds better, doesn't it? Anyway,  It looked amazing and I figured it could fool the brain a bit, so I bought myself a julienne peeler and made this great meal on the left for a fast day. Courgettes, mushroom, extra light Philly, paprika, half a veg stock cube, chilli flakes and a tiny bit of parmesan. I cannot recommend it enough. After you have julienned the courgette, you just put it in the microwave for 2mins and have it with whichever sauce you want. Blimmin' brilliant. Will try it with bolognese sauce soon… Also just chucking in a pic of a piri piri chicken and sweet potato meal that I had — also delicious. Sweet potatoes are also back on the menu! 

As I have also been on a bit of a protein kick, I went to another good wesite called  http://www.fitnesstreats.com/. This lady is very inventive and makes lots of cool stuff that I have been experimenting with. I made her savoury lentil cake (with hemp protein), which was ok, but I think I might experiment with my own receipe next week… I also made her White Chocolate Protein Brownies, but they tasted more like scones… which was fine by me! Both filled a hole. I have also developed a New York Deli Salad — pastrami (lots of protein), salad leaves, cucumber, tomato, light cheese, red onion, gherkins and a bit of mustard — really loving it. 

So, as my social life is pretty empty from here onwards, I'm actually really looking forward to not having any excuses to be bad and trying my best to shift off this weird plateau I seem to be on. I must be eating too much or I would be losing weight — simple as. And whilst I need to be able to eat out and show some willpower, it's nice to not worry about any upcoming dinner dates and know that I am totally in control — it's all down to me.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

As I was typing this, someone just sent me a Facebook invite to an event called "Jolloff Rice Night". What the fuck? See what my life is filled with?? I am being invited to evenings based solely on eating carbs — THERE IS NO ESCAPE. SAVE YOURSELVES.

A Very Precise Yo-Yo

Apologies for the post that never materialised last week... My bad. But it is what it is, and we all need to move on.

RIGHT! So what has been happening? Well, I did A LOT of reading about calories, weights, fat, protein, exercise, BMI, BMR, RDA... Fucking shitloads. It got to the point where I was actually stressing myself out with how much I was reading. To be fair, I did learn a hell of a lot — but alas, I am still fat. I can talk the talk, but when it comes to walking the walk, I'm definitely waddling.

I was doing all this research because since I have been doing weights, I am always tired and hungry. It's not that I'm doing too much (30mins exercise a day is recommended) so I thought maybe I wasn't eating enough. After a bit of research, I thought I'd hit the jackpot with a site that was telling me to eat 1700 calories a day (woo-fucking-hoo!!), but then I fucked myself over… I found an a different website that was very well written, really well researched and full of actual info rather than crap. It was excellent because the information was straightforward and busted a lot of myths. However, if I was going to put my trust in this site, I also had to accept that the fact that it was advising me to eat the grand total of 1379 calories a day. That is only 100 more than what I was on with MFP. * Sigh* One thing that really stuck in my head from this website was the screen shot on the right:

Now, I know that this is not new particularly new information, but it really makes you realise how important what you eat is, demonstrated brilliantly in this piece (from the aforementioned website): http://www.acaloriecounter.com/blog/why-am-i-not-losing-weight/.

I mean really, that article is basically my blog summed up, isn't it? But that is the one problem I have — I can't stop eating. I am exercising hard almost every day and really sticking to it, but because I am a little piggy who loves food, I'm undoing all my good work. But I just cant stop. I am seriously thinking I need to get hypnotised — I really just don't know how to control it otherwise. I have no willpower.

But before I go down that route, I really think I need to make a concerted effort to try harder. So some new rules I have are:

1) No crisps until the weekend. Not even healthy ones.
2) FINALLY CHUCKED OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING MARZIPAN!
3) No stockpile of food at work — all food is to be brought in from home. If it's not there, I can't eat it.
4) High-protein lunch, and generally increasing my protein intake throughout the day
5) Eating out less.

The last one has been difficult. For some reason, the last month has been really busy and I've had dinners with people or an event with food every single week since mid January. It's made life more difficult, but only because I'm a little piggy who won't then cut back calories on another day. Why is it so hard? WHY? WHY? All foodies, can't all be fat, surely? I remember the last time I properly did weights and was under 10st (several years ago), I never really went out. People would ask me out to drinks after work but I would decline and go for a run followed by weights. On a Friday night. Depressing. To be honest, I didn't feel depressed, but I missed out on a lot of social events, but I don't think that bothered me that much… So perhaps it was worth it? Maybe that is what it is going to take — cutting back on socialising and not giving myself an excuse to eat extra food every week.

My weightlifting lady (Nia Shanks) advises on her website to stop counting calories and just eat 'real food' (meat, cheese, fish, beans, fruit, veggies) until you are comfortable, but I definitely can't do that. I know she has been anal in the past about her diet and this is a way of relieving yourself of weighing food like a crazy person, but I don't think she ever had a problem with being OVERWEIGHT (she is tiny). So until she shows me a pic of herself as a total fatty, I will not be following her advice! Literally, it's the worst the worst thing you could tell an overweight person to do. Some people need boundaries. I wouldn't be in this predicament if I knew how to control myself, would I? I am actually too scared to even try it for one week. Some people need to follow some strict rules — that is just life. 

However, Nia had some nice recipes for things to do with protein powder, so I have been using some of those in the morning. I have thrown away tonnes of protein powder in my life. My mum uses my old jars to keep her lentils in, and she has quite a lentil collection! But I bought a small tub this time and actually, I like it so much that I could eat it with a spoon. I DO eat it with a spoon! It tastes just like baby milk powder. [God, my mouth is watering right now, but when I google 'eating protein powder neat', all that comes up is "Woah, dude! Why the fuck would you do that? It's gross!". Oh, the shame.] I've had a chocolate one mixed with yoghurt and banana slices — so filling in the morning and I didn't need anything else until lunch — RESULT! (Although I did feel slightly oppressed by it — it took determination to get through the whole bowl). I've also mixed it with pumpkin puree, yoghurt and some pumpkin spice — this was really tasty with a dash of sugar-free maple syrup and some oats. Next week I am going to try to bake with it.

So, what's been going on with my weight, eh? Well, the week that I didn't write a post for I went up 1.5lbs. This week just past, I went down by the exact same amount. Now, this friggin' yo-yoing has been happening for six weeks. It is bizarre. My weight is always up or down by the SAME exact amount as well, which is really hard to believe. It's not muscle, that's for sure (women can only put on like, 0.2lbs of muscle in a week). It might be water. It is very probably fat. My masses of reading has lead me to believe that this can happen when you start lifting because your muscles will retain water, but I still should be losing fat and it should still be showing on the scales, at least on the body fat read-out if nothing else… I dunno, I am trying not to get frustrated, but it is testing me. I can definitely feel a difference in my muscles, but I want this blimmin' bulge to sod off too! Urgh — I just need to lock myself away for a year, not go out, not be allowed to go to the shops, not work out. Maybe then something would happen.

OR... I could stop being such a whiny bitch and just eat less. 

There is no easy diet. If I'm not suffering, I'm probably eating too much. Anyway, lets see if upping the protein, sleeping more to combat tiredness (rather than eating M&Ms), and keeping the calories down will nudge the scales in the right direction next week… Ah yes, next week, where I have two midweek restaurant visits with friends… Oh for fuck's sake. 

Pass me the bastard M&Ms.

In the words of Eric Cartman — "BEEFCAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"

Firstly, I lost weight. It looks like I basically just lost whatever I 'put on' last week, but given that I am doing weight training and have been reading so much about water retention, losing inches rather than pounds etc, I'm really not putting too much stock into this. If I lose, I lose. I just have to know that I am sticking to my calories and exercising enough. I would normally be excited about a loss, but at the moment, it all seems fairly meaningless, so I'm just getting on with it.

My new weigh day is now Saturday, just because I normally end up eating something unhealthy this day, and it means I have a week to repair the damage! On this particular Saturday, we went to Frankie & Benny's for dinner — woo-hoo! The food was all delicious, even though I didn't get to eat their amazing hotdog — BUT I WILL ONE DAY. I was quite in the mood for a cheeseburger, so I had settled on that until my boyfriend ordered the double Philly steak burger… For some reason, I felt that this gave me the green light to order a double cheeseburger — WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I'm supposed to be watching what I eat! Well, I got punished in the end, because I couldn't finish the second patty in the bun and felt terrible for wasting it. Note to self: don't do that again, because you are not a slim man with a super-fast metabolism. Despite this, I had the low-fat pancake for dessert (well, let's try, eh?)— 200cals and really very nice! No pics cos I wolfed it all.

These looked and tasted delicious.

On Sunday, I went a bit mental in a food market in St Albans and spent about £15. And that's only because I stopped myself. I went with my uncle and his son — my poor cousin tried to buy a gourmet bacon roll for £4 and my uncle just told him, "Don't buy that — we've got two rashers of bacon at home"… ehehehehe. Thankfully, he was allowed to buy a scotch egg and a mini quich later. I bought some giant flat mushrooms, a black pudding scotch egg, a huge croissant, ostrich burgers and a coconut bird feeder thing, which I obviously didn't eat, even though it looked quite appetising — a bit like a rustic Bounty. Oh, I also bought some super-spicy pickled onions! They are an absolute godsend on a fast day — really fucking hot (there are Scotch Bonnet chillies in the vinegar and my mouth is watering just thinking about them) but very low in calories. The flat mushrooms were amazing just grilled, but on the second day I added some sundried tomato paste, garlic salt and a few herbs and stuck them in the oven — frigging fabulous!

Last Thursday, I made the mistake of eating my fasting dinner (because I was fucking starving!) before doing my weights session. I will NOT be doing that again in a hurry, dear god, no. I was really fucking thirsty, so I had also drunk quite a lot of water through the evening… It was mainly all fine until I had to lie on my front to do back extensions and suddenly I could feel air and food all swooshing around dangerously close to the top of my throat… I ended up not completing the exercise because I was on the brink of throwing up — nobody wants to be found wearing cheap leggings, an exercise bra and furry boots, drowned in their own vomit under a 5ft dried-up Christmas tree, do they? Lesson learnt. 

Looks gross, but was actually delicious.

This brings me to the problem I have encountered since I upped my exercise routine (I now work out every day except Sunday) — I feel like I am permanently ravenous. And it's been affecting my fast days quite badly, to be honest. Last week was a pile of shite when it came to fasting, but at least I didn't go over my daily calorie allowance. To combat this crazy hunger, I've tried to find a more filling breakfast — step in savoury porridge! Yup, sounds disgusting I know, but it was actually just like risotto. Oats, red onion, mushrooms, parsley, ham and light garlic cream cheese. I don't really like sweet breakfasts, so this was perfect for me, but I imagine some people would really struggle with it. But at least it was filling. I think I will experiment with some other savoury oat recipes next week — makes a change for breakfast! [FFS — whilst I am trying to type this, I keep seeing an email come up titled 'Donut Tasting' — seriously??]

Still very much enjoying the lifting, and sticking with the principle of just lifting more and more each week. My posture feels a hell of a lot better, my arms feel strong (I cannot stop flexing and moving my biceps whilst sitting at my desk — what a geek!) and whilst I probably can’t quite crack walnuts between my thighs, I could definitely smash a few on top of them. So at the moment, that is what I am concentrating on — feeling good and trying to eat well. The theory is that everything else should fall into place… right? RIGHT?

Snacking: The Death of Me

Due to my obsession with crisps and other savoury snacks, I have had to implement a ban on them outside the weekend. This was very difficult for me, but it seriously needed to be done, and the conversation below kinda nudged me in that direction…

Me: Cock, I shouldn't have eaten those peanuts… but I was hungry.
BF: Er, where did those peanuts come from?
Me: I bought them today when I was in Tesco.
BF: I thought you only went to Tesco to buy a can of sweetcorn?
Me: Well, yes, but then I saw these were on deal in the snack aisle…
BF: But why were you in the snack aisle?
Me: (Getting irritated) Well, I was wandering round all the aisles... 
BF: But why wer… Ohhhhhhhhh. This is what you do, isn't it? 
Me: What?
BF: Well, I hate food shopping, so when I go to a supermarket, I just want to get my item, and get out as quickly as possible. You actually like food shopping, so you wander around the WHOLE shop.
Me: Yeah… but I still shouldn't have bought those peanuts.
BF: No, you shouldn't have.
Me: Hmmm.

I don't know if this makes my BF sound like a hard-arse, but he really isn't… Well, sometimes, but not on this occasion! I was starting to get irritated with his questions, but I genuinely hadn't realised how differently we view going food shopping. From my perspective, it was a bit "DUDE! Why the fuck wouldn't I be wandering around the whole shop?? What if I see something amazing I want to try? What if something is cheap?". But it's his idea of absolute hell. That is why I am a foodie and he is not. He is very much a 'work to live, eat to live' kinda guy. And whilst he does very much enjoy eating a piece of delicious fridge cake or a really tasty burger, he doesn't live for it the way I do. And so comes the second issue with my rampant snack addiction — I end up roping him into it too. 

For a number of weeks, I got into the bad habit of having a little snack whilst cooking dinner. I am always (psychologically) starving when I get in, and I am straight in the cupboard, grabbing the nearest bag of sharer crisps. I know I'm not supposed to eat them, but how can I alleviate this awful guilt? I know — "Hey, do you want some crisps…?". To be fair, the answer is quite often "No thanks, I'm alright", but I know that once he comes into the kitchen and sees me munching on them, he will grab one, just for a taste. Then he will grab the bag out of my hand, and then eat quite a lot of them. Guilt alleviated.

Now, anyone who knows my BF will know that he is of slim frame. Hell, until last year or so he was wearing clothes that were sized 'XS', whereas now he is just 'S'. But BF also has the fastest metabolism ever. I mean, it's not good to eat loads of crap, but if anyone's body can take it, his can. But I don't want my bad eating habits rubbing off on him. It's not fair, especially as he wouldn't even buy bad stuff in the first place. So, to address this, I've tried to have a weekday snack ban. I can't cut them out, but I can save them as a treat to look forward to, as can he, because I really I don't want to be his feeder.

Strangely, I do seem to be sticking to my new rule. I managed to not go mental in Sainsbury's on a fast day (not quite sure how, but I did!) which just required a lot of breathing and a 'think of the bigger picture' mantra. But one day this week I was really tired. Inexplicably tired. I still have absolutely no idea what was wrong with me, but I don't remember ever feeling that tired after a day's work. My eyeballs were hurting, I had a headache, and I really struggled to stay awake at work or on the bus. However, on my way home, I found myself slowly-but-surely being drawn towards the bright green lights of one of my favourite supermarkets — Waitrose.

Now, I don't actually have a MASSIVE love for it, but you don't see a Waitrose that often, do you? So when you see one, it's a bit exciting because you know that whilst everything will be overpriced, it will all be delicious. So in I went, lurching around like a zombie until I hit the snack aisle. I have to say, I was rather impressed with my willpower at this point, because somehow I managed to leave not with a bagful of fancy cheese crackers or makhni poppadoms, but with some low fat breadsticks, a jar of chilli pickled onions and a really bizarre chorizo jam. I KNOW.

Some of you might say "Well, if you had true will power, you wouldn't have gone inside in the first place". To you people, I say "Fuck off". This is my journey. For me, that was pretty fucking restrained. Low fat breadsticks are not fun, so I knew I wouldn't eat a lot of them. Also, pickled onions would provide that salty, spicy hit I am always looking for when I get in, but with a trillionth less of the calories. The chorizo jam, well, that just seemed like a fun and interesting item to try. And it was, as you can see from the packaging! 

It took me ages to get the 'Eat 17' reference… Nob.

I would recommend it. They also do a bacon version that I could be tempted with, although £3 a pop for quite a small jar is a bit much. Maybe it would make a good gift. 

So, with all this being good and snack-cutting-down and weight-lifting and exercise-biking, one would think I would have lost some weight. Or one would think I would have at least stayed the same. But no motherfuckers — I WENT UP TWO CUNTING POUNDS. Now, if I hadn't read this article on Nerd Fitness (excellent site by the way) I think I would have been quite upset. Also, I know when I've had a shit week, and this really wasn't one, so I definitely don't believe I have just piled on 2lbs of pure fat. Heck, I didn't diet AT ALL during Christmas and I only put on 3lbs! So this is bollocks. However, I also don't think I've put on 2lbs of muscle either (though that would be fucking sweet!). So it's probably a combination of water weight and muscle. But mainly water, probably. I hope. However, seeing as I have about 25lbs to lose, I will be keeping an eye on my weight just to make sure it doesn't keep going up — that would be bad! Maybe it's finally time to pay attention to the body fat read-out on the scales…

In other news, I'm really enjoying being aware of my muscles and the feel of a post-workout ache. I can feel my muscles getting bigger and stronger with each session, so whether the scales go up or down, I know for a fact that changes are taking place. Now I just need the fat to fuck off from my body so I can reveal the Xena-Warrior-Princess physique that I am clearly hiding under all this chub.

Oh Thank Fuck

This is exactly what my BF was thinking when I stepped off the scales this weekend and delivered my weight loss news to him. All week I have been waffling on about how good I've been and how well I have stuck to my calories, so if I hadn't lost, I'm not sure he knew how he was going to handle the emotional fallout that would almost certainly follow.

Luckily, weight loss this week was just over 1.5lbs, which I am massively pleased with. I didn't quite do as much exercise as I did the week before, but having tested out my new weights routine, I have now worked out a nice weekly schedule that — for the first time ever — actually excites me a bit. I have been groaning a lot this week — hamstrings, glutes and abs have all been put through their paces and I have really felt the burn. I might be expecting slightly unrealistic results from this new weights venture, so I'm trying to not to get overexcited, but it is nice to feel positive for a change.

I have found the weekly graphs on MFP to be very handy in the last few weeks, for one quite important reason : the average daily calorie intake graph. This has been invaluable to me recently, as if you do go over your suggested calorie intake for the day (which I ALWAYS do on the weekend because I am a human being who wants to enjoy life), you can work out how to rectify the damage, whether it's by eating less another day, having a fast day (which I am properly doing again, thank fuck) or chucking in some extra exercise. It does stop you from going too mental in the kitchen, although it has not stopped me from eating a shit-tonne of marzipan. Yup, I've had it in the kitchen since Christmas and it seems to be a regular accompaniment to a cup of tea these days. I can't bring myself to throw it away, nor can I stop eating it! Also, BF is annoyed with its presence because the yellow foil keeps making him think we have a packet of custard creams, only to discover it is squidgy, smelly, disgusting marzipan (in his opinion).

[Oh my god — I was actually just frantically searching around my desk for the small piece of cereal bar I had just put down and was genuinely shocked when I realised I had just eaten it… WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME???]

I saw my lady-friends for dinner this week, and I made sure I had planned my potential food options before I even got to the restaurant. I turned up a bit late and they were all, "Oh no, you're going to take ages looking through the menu now, aren't you?" (they know what I am like with too much choice) but I already knew what I was having (steak salad with fries on the side) and I knew it was within my allowance — BOO-YA! I can't lie and say I wasn't tempted to just order something huge and cheesy (we were in a fucking Frankie & Benny's after all!) but I knew that it would make me feel like absolute shit after. So I settled for having a bit of mayo with my chips and scraping the whipped cream off my friend's milkshake — oo-er! (We're a very close bunch.)

Begrudgingly, I am also adding up every bastard thing that passes my lips on the weekends, which I never used to do, but I have realised it gives me a better gauge of how the week might pan out. Looking at Saturday just gone, I had better exercise my arse off or prepare for a gain next weigh day, because it turns out I ate 3000 calories in one evening… That sounds terribly disgusting, but there is no way you can go to a Deep South restaurant with friends and have a nice dinner with lots of alcohol on a calorie budget of 1290 — jog on mate, seriously. (I have been THAT person who is sitting with a bowl of salad and tap water, looking miserable as fucking sin. I would rather eat the good food and then exercise it off.)  The best you can hope for in that situation is that the food was worth it, which it was. We had lots of delicious starters (chicken wings, shrimp, jalapeno poppers), followed by ribs, fries and coleslaw, which was then topped off with a lychee martini. And when I say 'a', I obviously mean 'three', plus a beer, plus another cocktail. Well, we didn't have dessert, did we?? Anyway, fuck off — I saved 250 calories on Sunday night, so there.

I am no longer setting myself any short term goals, such as "be 10st by my birthday". I never fucking hit them, and then I just feel like a massive loser, and then I go drown in a box of Krispy Kremes. Followed by chips, followed by pizza, followed by Jam Mallows. I am just going to stick with what I am doing, make minor adjustments and just make sure the trend is generally downwards. It's boring, but I think it's sensible for me.

Oh, I forgot to to say — my new favourite activity is punching my tensed-thigh, watching how less and less of it is jiggling with every passing week and then shouting "GRRRRRR!".

Blog post done.

Getting There… Really Fucking Slowly

Yo peeps. Told you I was going to get back back on the blogging train, so here I am! It has taken a bit of effort to be honest, but you know what they say — it's not worth having if it's easy… yadah yadah. 

OK, so for a second week I have lost weight, which is good news. It wasn't an awful lot, to be fair (0.6lbs), but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, as my dad always says. I also did 30mins of exercise every day except Saturday, so I'm pleased about that. It definitely helps that when I lean forward for my fast intervals on the exercise bike, my thighs nudge my stomach, which is sure to get any girl spinning hard! I've managed to get up to 12.5k in distance, so I will just keep trying to improve that. Although one thing that is worrying me slightly is the increasing size of my quad muscles. They are starting to bulge, people — I can see the corners of them sticking out through my leggings! I know I am not going to turn into Chris Hoy overnight, but I do have concerns, as I can build muscle pretty easily. Hmm, I really should do something with that…

Speaking of getting tonk, I have also found a new weights routine that I want to start — this was the website if you are interested: http://www.niashanks.com/. I was going to start it next week (new for February), but I literally have just decided (whilst typing this up) that I am going to start it tomorrow. The sooner the better, surely? Plus, I might need a week to tinker with it as it involves barbells and all sorts, which should make for some amusing stories if nothing else. I must remember to not load them up too heavy, as when I first tried using a barbell I damaged my back by lifting a little too much. Yup lady-bros — I am quite strong! Even the BF is surprised at my strength when I'm trying to stop him doing non-sexual wrestling moves on me. Although I have had to tap out on several occasions, followed by some teariness.

BF and I went to our local Wetherspoons this weekend and ended up eating there, and it was quite a pleasant surprise to see that their menu has the calorific value of every single dish beside it. I was quite impressed, and it did actually steer me away from their hot dog section (DAMMIT!). It also meant I couldn't lie to BF about my choice being healthy when it blatantly isn't, not that I EVER do that, of course. 

I love highlighting.

We also had a rather strange discussion about my weight chart on the Bakerloo line, which is so fucking noisy that half of bloody London must know how much I weigh. Now, anyone who knows me will know I always make a new weight chart every time I start a new diet. It's an obsession. In fact, if I put as much time and effort into actually losing weight rather than faffing with a variety of weight-loss printouts, I would be a size 8 by now. True story. The issue I have with my scales is that they give me my weight in stones, then pounds, and then some decimalisation, which I find weird. Surely it should then be in ounces? I think the main problem is that at WW, the scales would only ever round to a half pound, which keeps things nice and simple when you write them in your little book. But now my home scales go 11st 10lbs 0.7 = what the fuck is that??? It's not a full pound, it's not half a pound, so how do I chart it? Only shade in half a square? Although BF did point out that ounces would be even more complicated, so I guess I just wish my scales would round up/down to something meaningful. I just feel that if I round up, it's cheating, and if I round down it's disheartening. And I can't change it to kilos, becuase when it comes to my fatness, I think in stones (thank you WW). BF did say I had no business charting a loss of 0.2lbs (FUCK YOU BUDDY!), but I like to because it just feels like things are moving in the right direction at least. So above is my new double chart (one for actual weight loss, one for a nice round number guide). It's mainly necessary because I don't seem to be able to do basic maths. Needless to say, I have never completed a chart, ever… BUT THIS COULD BE THE ONE! It could be. 

In other news, you know you get those selfies where people take a picture of themselves but don't notice something weird in the background? Well, that TOTALLY happened to me last week. I wanted to show my sister what a difference wearing under-eye concealer makes, so as I was doing my make-up in the morning (which I always do without any clothes on — sorry for the imagery everyone) I took a picture of myself shoulders up. I looked at it and thought "Phew, no-one can see my nakedness anywhere — that would have been bad!". Great. Went to my mum's that evening and got the picture out and something made me just check it one more time before I showed my sister… AND THANK FUCK I DID. I don't know how I missed it the first time, but I looked at the picture and you could CLEARLY see the reflection of my fat, naked back in the mirror behind me, PLUS some boob. It was not flattering. There were fat rolls. There was my broad back. It looked like a walrus with big hair was sitting upright on my bed. If my mum had seen that — and those of you that have met my mother know what I am talking about — she would have never, ever, EVER let me live it down. So, I just put my phone away and did a demonstration on my sister's own dark circles, which was probably more effective anyway. 

I went a bit over my average daily calories last week, so this week I'm going to really try to keep the average down, and hopefully see a better loss this week. Unless my new weights routine has me looking all pumped-yet-fat, in which case, we will have a problem…

 

What Is My Chubby Arse Doing???

11st 8.5lbs.

11st 10.5lbs.

11st 9.5lbs.

11st 10.5lbs.

11st 9.5lbs.

This is what I have weighed at random intervals in the last two weeks. I was pretty chuffed at the fact that I had only put on 2.8lbs across December, only to then basically put on that weight in the space of one fucking week. And I can't even blame lady time! In fact, I was actually trying to diet for the first of those two weeks, so that makes it a million times worse. Shame on me, and shame on my approach to healthy eating. I'm not sure what that approach was now (it's long been lost in memories of Yo! Sushi lunches and handfuls of crisps) but I definitely needed to stop. So I have.

This week I am back on track and sticking to fasting — THIS IS THE YEAR. I say this every year, but this year I REALLY have to fucking try because I just realised something last week and it terrified me: I am very likely to get married in the next year and a half. FUCK FUCK FUCK. I cannot be feeling insecure on my wedding day. I cannot take loads of selfies to hide my double chin. I cannot ask the photographer to cut my fat arms out of every shot (hmm, or can I?). I need to actually look decent, so I really need to start NOW.

I'm not saying that I am going to be uber-strict (ha, god forbid should I actually stick to anything in a bid to lose weight) but I am going to need to remind myself of the 'W' word every time I am thinking about lifting unnecessary food items to my big fat mouth. 

So, I have printed out new goal weight countdown sheet thing (I updated the one that barely got highlighted last year, obvs) and have devised a new exercise routine that I need to follow (alternate days of exercise bike and circuits). I have made it ultra basic, because I am the laziest fucker known to man. I just need to do it every day until the end of February so I get into the habit, and then I will improve it so I can have arms like Jodie Marsh. Yeah, fuck off — I don't care what you think about that.

This does mean that I will now be exercising on fast days, but seeing as I have more fat reserves than your average polar bear, I really don't think I'm going to be collapsing on the tube anytime soon. I've also decided to eat the same lunch for a whole week, thus limiting how much time per day my brain is allowed to think about lunch possibilites. This also means less lunchtime trips to Morrisons, which also means I am less likely to pick up a sharer bag of salt & vinegar sticks and eat them all in one sitting. Speaking of salt & vinegar sticks — I bought a pack from Waitrose last week and they were fucking rank. I don't know what was wrong with them but they they smelt funny and tasted weird. Still finished them all though.

Dieting is such simple maths but I just find it so fucking difficult. I don't know why. Maybe I need to work with food so that the sight of it makes me sick by the time it comes to mealtimes, you know, so I'm svelte like Gary Rhodes or Michel Roux Jr. But then I realised that for every one of those skinny chefs, there are often two flabby foodie friends like the Two Fat Ladies or the Hairy Bikers making tasty dishes for each other. Even the flippin' Hairy Bikers have managed to lose fucking weight now! 

URGH. Come on lady, get it done. WEAR YOUR HUNGER LIKE A BADGE.

Starting Over... Again.

Yup. My yearly pilgrimage to Diet Land is on.

Just like everyone else who now resembles a Christmas pudding due to overindulgence during the festive season, it's time to shape up. It's always nice to start weight loss in January. You have a clear slate in front of you and you can forget about everything you ate last year. I was supposed to be counting calories after Christmas Day, but that went straight out the window and I decided to eat bacon crispies instead. 

The last weight I inputted into MFP was on the December 3 (shame!) and this Monday I bit the bullet to see the damage: I have put on 2.8lbs since then. That's not bad really, but then it's not like I was starting in a particularly great place (I'd already put on a little) so I shouldn't pat myself on the back at all really. But as I ate a lot of pretty good stuff over the holiday (I have travelled the globe via my plate!), I feel ready to start.

I want to say this year will be soooooooo different and that I'm properly gonna bust a gut (ha!) trying to lose weight or that things have clicked in my brain, but I don't think any of that is true. I have to get on with it without it being the focus of my existence, which is very hard if you're a foodie. I need to somehow not be obsessed with food, because I'm genuinely worried that when I die I'll realise that I spent my whole life just eating and obsessing about my weight. And that terrifies me, because it is such a sad and pathetic existence. I'm scared of death as it is, let alone wasting my life on top of it.

Another thing that worries me is that I am pretty sure that my overeating affects my breathing, ie. my chest gets really tight and I have to take my inhaler. That is not good. Or healthy. Or normal. For one short minute, I did debate the idea of taking slimming pills… but I'm not going to, so stop shouting please. I will be doing a mix of diets I think, but I think I will stick to the fasting mainly.

URGH. I also had a total clothing/boot meltdown over the holidays (yes, that is a thing). I bought some new dresses but needed a pair of boots to go with them. So I ordered a pair from Office. They didn't really go, so obviously I had a breakdown before my last day at work. Honestly, my BF puts up with a LOT. It was so bad that I almost cried at work. I don't want to do that anymore. It all boils down to me feeling like a blob, but I have no-one else to blame except myself. I don't want to get that depressed again. It does not help that I am a useless shopper to boot (I am now thinking I look bad in all of them), but then nothing looks good when you feel like shit.

I promise to update more often and with more (lemon) zest than today. I've just been very busy with work, although as a dedicated foodie, I still managed to slip out to Yo! Sushi for lunch… dont worry, I counted everything! It's not that bad as long as you stay away from any bowls of rice, as they total a super-scary 400 calories! What the what?

I thought I would finish this post with my mum's reaction to a body shape test I did (USING MY ACTUAL MEASURMENTS!!) online. 

Enjoy. 

Week 22 & 23 : Lanzarote Restaurants — Watch Out!

I am sooooooo sorry. My blogging has been massively shite of late, but basically my life was 'illness, holiday, shitloads of work, illness" — and that was it for a month. But I am back on it now so should be able to bring you all the events from the the last four weeks in a funny yet succinct manner. You may just have to settle with succinct. Or maybe not even that.

So, after a week of sickness, it was finally time to get out of the country — THANK FUCK. I was a bit wary of packing on the pounds whilst away, so the plan was to enter everything I ate into MFP. Needless to say, that plan went out the window once I shoved the first mojo-covered Canarian potato into my gaping pie hole (incidentally, I am totally off pie-based products these days).

Steak, Canarian spuds, pork, chicken AND salad.

For me, one of the best things about going on holiday is the opportunity to eat nice food. And Lanzarote had plenty of it. We stayed in a fantastic self-catering apartment in Puerto del Carmen called Montana Club, and on the first night there we had a very delicious BBQ in the pool bar. I did get a slightly odd "Helloooooo!" from the chef who was distributing the food — at first I thought it was because I'm so darn attractive, but I then figured it was probably because he had just realised he’d run out of little Spanish sausages (the last one went to BF — nooooooooooooo!) and he needed to create a distraction (too late mate, I clocked it). However, he did give me a massive pork chop to compensate, which I split with BF for half a sausage. It was pork well spent in my opinion, as that chorizo sausage was delicious.

We opted for self catering because we like to get up late on holiday, and we decided to keep lunches simple. Sandwich and crisps and then back out to lounge by the pool. Why does everything taste so much better on holiday? Everyday, we ate cheap ham and cheese in a baguette with garlic mayo, with crisps and a cake for afters, and it was always really tasty. Yet if we ate that at home, we'd consider it the shittiest lunch ever — weird. Also, I know French bread is a bastard when it comes to calories, so although I was missing breakfast, I was more than making up for it four hours later.

The holiday was filled with excellent food. There was a lot of variety, but one thing we agreed on was that we would not eat at any Italian places — that is just too shit. I mean, we even avoid Italian at home as a rule, so I certainly wasn't going to eat it on holiday. However, we did end up having a Chinese on the second night… shame! It was here I realised I really can't eat satay chicken curry. It's too fucking sweet and makes me feel a bit ill. It was beautifully cooked, but not to my taste. The night before, we had Mexican, where I ate a massive burrito and had some chocolate tequila — LUSH! I also had my only dessert on this holiday here, which was cold hot chocolate poured over a scoop of vanilla ice cream and topped with whipped cream — really very nice.

Slightly embarrassed when this giant plate arrived…

I also had the best tapas of my life on this break. The restaurant we visited had 4.5 stars on Trip Advisor and was the only place on the whole holiday where we had to wait for a table, But boy, was it worth it. We ordered a little too much, despite the owner telling us we needed to cut a few dishes. When the last dish came out, I was just poking it with a fork and looking stressed. The owner came and stood by the side of the table and with a glint in his eye went "Full…?" Cheeky bastard. I wanted to shout, "DUDE! I'M GONNA BARF!", but I just nodded — he could tell I was suffering so he didn't rib me further. Everything we had there was absolutely fantastic. We had delicious bread with spicy garlic butter, a deconstructed tortilla with sausage, garlic prawns with octopus, pork in blue cheese sauce (my favourite meal on the holiday), and mini pork burgers with a frozen shot of their amazing sangria. Taberna de Niño, we salute you. 

Burgers, prawns, pork. All eaten.

On the fourth night, we had a barbecue after we had visited Timanfaya National Park, and after what can only be described as a white-knuckle coach ride. Big coach + small road = me crying. Honestly, I thought we were going to topple into some volcanic crater/ravine. But that was me being a baby — the driver was excellent. Which made it worse when I realised we had no money to leave him for a tip for not letting us perish in the volcanic landscape.

It was on this death trip that we met an 81-year-old man who was on holiday alone. His wife had been placed in a nursing home due to dementia back in England and I am guessing it had been a stressful six months for him, because he told us his son booked this holiday for him as he probably needed a break. He very much enjoyed talking to the young folk, especially as he seemed quite lonely here on his own, and he was actually a pretty interesting guy. However, he kinda made us come to his hotel the next night (not for any shenanigans!) because they put on big shows there and stuff. We were going to try and wriggle out of it, but he REALLY wanted us to come, so we obliged.

So the next day, we trot up to his hotel, but not before I walk into a ruddy great big CONCRETE BENCH. Oh yes. In the busy street. Outside an even busier cocktail bar. It hurt like a motherfucker, but that's what you get when get distracted by some girl's hairdo. I kept turning my head to look at her (whilst walking at speed because we were late) and before I knew it, I was planking in the fucking street like a nob. FUCKING MORTIFIED. FUCKING PAINFUL. 

We got to the hotel, and it turned out our new friend wanted to have dinner with us… I should add that there were two Irish sisters that we had met on the same trip who were also roped into this plan, so we weren't alone in this odd situation at least. Because new buddy wanted to pay, he took us to this road side cafe that he had been into for lunch a few times, as it was cheaper than the hotel buffet. We didn't want to let him to pay anyway, so we should have just gone to somewhere decent, because this place was pretty unglamorous. I ended up having a bolognese pizza (and thus breaking my Italian food rule) but one of the girls had a tropical pizza that had pineapple, banana and apple on it. Eww. Anyway, I was annoyed as wasting a night of good eating in some tiny Spanish version of Little Chef, but my BF said it was the right thing to do, as this guy really wanted the company. Anyway, after a few jugs of sangria, I didn't care so much. BF kept saying to me "Hey, it's a story at least" — and he was right. I've waffled on about it for three paragraphs!

On our last night, I finally squeezed in some paella, which was very important on this trip. I feel really bad saying this, but I still kinda prefer the one I get in Tesco… I know, I know — I have no style whatsoever. Oh well. It was very good, but I couldn't finish it because I had eaten a shed-load of Canarian potatoes as a starter, whoops. They were just so darned tasty and always came with three sauces, so I couldn't resist. Didn't eat a single fucking salad like I said I would, but fuck it. And then I also stuffed in one more tapas meal before we left, during which we caught a Northern woman have a really awkward argument with a Spanish waiter…

I stared into this plate during the aforementioned argument.

I really didn't feel like I had stuffed myself on this holiday and was feeling quite virtuous, but then I remembered one thing I hadn't taken into account : alcohol. And I had drunk copious amounts of it. Beer… cocktails… the free shots they dole out after every meal… sangria… all empty calories. Delicious, empty calories.

So, my weight before I went away? 11st 5.8lbs. And when I came back, I had put on exactly 3lbs. Now, considering I had put on the same amount after 48 hours in Cambridge a few weeks earlier, I was pretty chuffed. 3lbs over a week was tolerable.

But fasting again after my holiday was not, apparently…

Week 20 & 21 : My Giant, Consuming Body

Sorry for the delay — I have been mega ill and kinda still am, so blog activities have been on the back burner. But seeing as I will be on holiday next week and will have lots of food-related stories to tell you when I get back, I figured I should probably sum up the last two weeks.  Let's start with Week 20.

As I was not going to be home on my usual Weigh Day, I had to check in on the scales a day early (Friday). To my surprise (but total delight) I had shed the 0.8lb gain from the week before — woo! BRILLIANT. I was very happy to start my weekend in Cambridge with my uni gals with this very delightful news. So what better way to celebrate than to buy a half dozen box of Krispy Kremes, eh? YUP. If I hadn't had such a heavy and FUCKING EMBARRASSINGLY SQUEAKY suitcase to wheel around Liverpool Street station, I might have even gone for a dozen box. But thankfully, my inner Jiminy Cricket wasn't silenced by me stuffing a doughnut in its mouth — it was able to speak out and make me realise that three girls do not need to eat four friggin' doughnuts EACH over the course of their 48 hours together. And so a six pack it was, which we happily tucked into with a lovely glass of prosecco when we arrived at the hotel.

It was a lovely weekend. We had a disappointing Italian meal the first night (me and my friends agreed that there was nothing worse than wasting precious calories on SHIT FOOD), but we got over it. My mates both looked lovely, by the way. They have both lost weight recently and they looked gorgeous. I have to admit, it made me feel a bit guilty that I hadn't done as well as them, but this was not a weekend to calorie count.

We had a cooked breakfast at about 11am in the hotel, which was delicious, and then we headed out to see the sights. That didn't take long because Cambridge is surprisingly small. We stopped off at a tea shop called Fitzbillies at about 2ish — I'd overheard a girl on the train recommend it and it did not disappoint. So I had a scone with clotted cream and jam, and a pot of tea. By the time we had finished it was about 3.15pm, which would have been fine, if we didn't have dinner booked for 4.45pm. FUCKER. We wanted to get drunk that night so had decided to have an early dinner, but we were all feeling pretty full after our cakes. DOUBLE FUCKER. So we wandered around the shops in the hope of building up an appetite... FUCK.

Turns out, this was not a problem. We went to Cau, an Argentinian steak place that had good reviews on Trip Advisor. We all had a steak each, with triple-cooked chips, garlic mayo, coleslaw and onion rings. OH. MY. GOD. Get yourself down to this restaurant, people! It was absolutely amazing — the best steak I have ever eaten. It was so amazing that I totally forgot to take a picture — sorry! I was worried mine was on the more raw side of medium, but it was actually cooked to perfection. We were stuffed by the end though, so we waddled back to the hotel. I immediately started stuffing myself into control pants AND control tights… We had a fun night out, marred only by the fact the fucking garlic sauce repeated on us BIG TIME. It was so bad that we could actually tell when one of us had burped on the dance floor  — SEXY!

We left the next day, with terrible hangovers, obviously. But it was a fab weekend. I started to feel a bit ropey come Sunday night, but I assumed it was just because I was hungover. But the real nausea was to come on Monday morning when I got on the scales... 11st 8.8lbs.

Five pounds. I put on FIVE FUCKING POUNDS in one weekend.

FUCK CUNT SHIT FUCK CUNT FUCK SHIT FUCK MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERFUCKER.

That is pretty much the last clear memory I have, because since then I have been incredibly ill. And I have been ill for over a week now. Most people would lose weight, but I've still been eating, so my weight has only come down slightly to 11st 5.4lbs for Week 21. But still, that's better than nothing eh?

To make matters even worse, I've had to shop for a swimsuit for the last-minute holiday my boyfriend and I are going on. Cue lots of crying. Never go looking for a swimsuit whilst you are chubby and delirious.

I would really like to not pile on the pounds on the holiday, so we are doing self-catering — we don't get up for breakfast so we'll just have a sandwich at lunch, and then dinner and drinks in the evening. If I only put on a pound or two, that would be great. I normally like to enjoy my holiday to the max, but it wont make me feel better if I go mad and put on loads, so I am going to try and stay a bit focused. This might be a bit easier given that we are going to hot Lanzarote, so the heat might make me want to eat more salads. Here's hoping....

... even though right now I am speed-eating a carbonara and have actually got it in my hair.

I am disgusting.

Week 19 : I Bloody Told You.

It caught up with me.

I fucking knew it would. I even predicted it. Which basically means I willed it to happen. Which it then did. I put on 0.8lbs this week, which is EXACTLY what I lost the week before. If nothing else, my weight journey was strangely poetic.

To be fair, I've eaten a lot of nice things in the past seven days, so if there was going to be any week I was going to get chubby, it was going to be this one. (I was just about to write "get my chub on" but then remembered that means something TOTALLY different in other parts of the country!) At the beginning of the week, I met up with my FFF (Former Fat Friend) for dinner whilst she was down in London for a few days. I will just add, she looked even slimmer than the last time I saw her. Bitch. We went for a drink before food, and I wasn't supposed to have anything alcoholic (I was trying to be good), but then she had a pint and I figured that as it was a mini reunion, a Diet Coke would almost certainly ruin the catch-up session. So it was a bottle of Desperados for me — my new favourite drink. For dinner we went to ASK, because a) it was close by, b) I could get a discount with my Taste Card, and c) I knew I could log it easily with MFP. I had all the low fat options already worked out, so my shortlist was pretty small. Seeing as I'd had a beer already, I knew that I should have been ordering the Fettuccine Verdure (peas, tomatoes, some other boring shite but only 423 calories), but then my mate ordered some creamy gnocchi dish and my willpower started to waver... I started looking at the pizzas... then spaghetti carbonara… then some meatball rigatoni dish... All the while, my neck was getting really hot. My palms felt clammy. I could feel myself getting flustered and sweaty... Will it really make a different if I have something more tasty? ARGH! NO! Be good, be good, be good! So I was, to my shock. The fettuccine was actually OK, but like my friend said, I would have felt terrible if I'd ordered something calorific. Especially considering what happened 36 hours later.

So, a few days along, BlogMate and I met up. We had been planning this meal since the last time we were sat down for a meal together. Finally, we were going to hit Shake Shack. Hard. Excitement was in the air! We weren't even put off by having to queue in the cold and then potentially eating in the cold. We were two women on a mission. A tasty, cheesy mission. And I tell you — the mission was a success. Behold, the below picture.

You are looking at the following:

• Shack Stack Burger: a cheeseburger with a breaded-and-fried-til-crispy portabello mushroom filled with melted cheese
• Crinkly fries
• Fifty/Fifty: Half lemonade, half iced tea
• Sticky Toffee Concrete: Frozen vanilla custard, chocolate toffee, chocolate chunks, salted caramel sauce and malt powder

Sorry the picture isn't great, but a) I am shit at taking photographs, and b) I don't really want to be one of those dicks who spend ages taking pictures of food for no apparent reason. This meal was absolutely delicious. The burger was fucking amazing — all melty and beefy and cheesy. The chips were crisp, the drink was refreshing and the ice cream was THE creamiest thing I've ever eaten. All in all, worth the wait. (And worth the weight, to be honest, which is what I accidentally typed out first). It is very unsurprising I put on, given that the total of this meal was a whopping 1640 calories. What's worse is that I was supposed to eat light that day, but I somehow ended up eating a million Viscount biscuits so my daily intake was through the roof. Ah well. There is no light way of doing burgers — if it's light, it's not right. 

So the next day, I was fasting (thank fuck) and I decided to go to H&M to try on some skinny jeans, and these jeans were as fucking skinny as they come. They didn't have a size 16, so — as they were very stretchy — I stuffed all my fat into a size 14 pair. They didn't look too bad actually, so into the basket they went. I also tried on some, ahem, leather trousers… I have had an obsession with them forever, so I just wanted to see. What I saw was that they were going to go no higher than my knees, so they were promptly peeled off. Not one to be defeated, I then tried on something of a halfway house — leggings with a leather panel down the front. I managed to get these on, but whilst checking them out in the mirror, I started feeling a bit funny and hot...FUCK! Even that small strip of leather was making me sweat and go weird (think Ross in Friends), so they were also a no-go. There was also the brutal fact that I am simply a foot too short and, coincidentally, a foot too wide to pull them off. So bye-bye leather pants — I'm afraid we just can't be together. It's not you — it's me. 

So given the fact that I hadn't lost any weight, I was a bit more carefree than usual on the weekend. In Guildford, I almost had a pretzel-coated sausage, but I couldn't face brandishing something quite so phallic-looking in public (especially with that bit of sausage poking out the top) so instead I had the pretzel-wrapped Twix. Unfortunately this also had an air of pastry penis about it, but once I'd got it into my head that it was like a healthy deep fried Mars bar, there was no turning back. And obviously, it was ridicuously tasty. Melted things are just good. That is what I have learnt this week.

Add to this a McDonald's Quarter pounder with cheese meal, a strawberry milkshake, 2 pints of blonde beer, pizza, crisps, tiramisu and fuck knows what else, it was not a particularly virtuous weekend. Which is only made worse by the fact that I am now ill so morale is running low for fasting. The best I can hope for is to stay the same to be honest. Next week's results might also be a bit weird as I am going away with some lady-friends for the weekend. I'm not promising I'm going to be really good, but I am also going to try not to go mental. We shall see...