Yup, you guessed it — I put on weight this week.
Not 0.5lb… not 1lb… not even 1.5lbs. TWO WHOLE POUNDS! Shame on me. And my big mouth. And everything that went in my big mouth.
Now, I should be more sad about this. I once put on half a pound at WW and cried all the way home. I'm not joking. I was at least 25, and I came home and cried under my duvet, and refused to come out for dinner — and I NEVER do that. But that's because I had been so good. This time, I'm not sure I can feel quite so virtuous.
I try to make notes in the week so I have something useful/interesting to write in my blog (hard to imagine, but true), so I went back to see what I had written at the start of the week.
1. "ANNOYED AT RUINING MY FAST, SO I RUIN IT FURTHER STILL."
Well, I think we can all see this is classic sabotage. I've fucked the diet, so may as well fuck it up good and proper. It seems that old habits die hard… I think this particular reference was to me eating a chocolate rich tea on my fast day — which is bad enough — but then going back to eat another one. Then another. Then a cracker. This was worse because I had nodded off on my bed, woke up, ate biscuits and went back to bed. What is wrong with me?? Like there aren't enough weird reasons that make me eat without me having to add 'feeling sleepy after waking abruptly from a nap' to the list. Fucking hell.
2. "NEED TO GET USED TO JUST FEELING THE HUNGER, NOT EAT THEN IMMEDIATELY SLEEP."
Ah yes, I know what this is about. In general, my fast day involves keeping myself busy during the day, coming home, cooking my meal and then just going to bed. Like that's all my body could possibly handle. RID-IC-U-LARSE. My fat body could easily handle a few days work and some exercise before it genuinely stopped being able to function properly on no food at all. I can talk to my bf. I can watch TV. I can do something. Just because I can't eat any more food doesn't mean life isn't worth living and I should just go to bed at 9.30pm.
3. "DRINK MORE WATER."
When I started fasting, I was dead good about drinking water, but now I am incredibly slack. And I think my skin is suffering because of it to be honest (I'm growing a massive spot as I type this.) So more water — we all know that. I have been saying this shit for weeks/months/years.
So those were my notes. I am a tad annoyed that I put on weight (especially before this wedding on Saturday), but it's my own fault, not the diet's. In fact, this diet has been great and as yet, I haven't really got any complaints! It's been a busy July and every weekend has involved an event that required a) lining one's stomach with stodge, b) drinking copious amounts of alcohol, c) eating a drunken snack and d) recovery food the next day. It's not an excuse, but it does make it harder to be more mindful on the weekend. Also, I had loads of cupcakes left over from my friend's birthday which were pretty calorific, but I just couldn't throw them away. All that eating was going to catch up with me at some point…
But some good news — I have been a bit more careful with portion sizes. I got halfway through my dinner the other evening when I thought "I am comfortable, so I need to stop eating any more of this" — so I did. Yey me! Was my stomach shrinking? Was I finally understanding that I need to eat less? Or was it the fact that I had eaten half a bag of low fat popcorn whilst the pasta was cooking? We will never know.
Also, I went to dinner with the girls and left food. ACTUALLY LEFT FOOD THAT I HAD PAID FOR, ON MY PLATE. I never do that. It was really delicious, but I was quite stuffed. Annoyingly, the waiter left our plates in front of us for AGES, and by the time he eventually took them away, I was peckish and probably could have finished it. BUT, I had already placed my napkin like a tiny little shroud over the leftovers, so it would not have been cool to start eating cold rice and kebab from underneath. My friends wouldn't have judged though — they have seen a lot, including an occasion where me and one of them had eaten so much food at a restaurant that we had to get back to her flat and lie on the cold, wooden floor for at least 15 minutes, just groaning and rubbing our stomachs. Her flatmate then came in, popped my friend's WW Points Calculator artistically between us and took a photo. I don't think Facebook was invented then — THANK GOD.
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
Monday, 15 July 2013
Week 6 : "Welcome to Dumpsville… Population: You."
Just so you know, I did not get dumped. But I tell you this much — if I did get dumped, I would not be writing this blog anymore. I would be out there, running down the street, flaunting my too-depressed-to-eat skinny body in hot pants and a boob tube.
No, I'm talking about a different kind of dumping, people. (Don't worry — it won't be for very long.) I weighed myself after my second fast day last week and my weight was exactly the same as the week before. Given how much I had eaten over the weekend, plus eating out at work, I was quite content with being 11st 5.2lbs. At least this way when I weighed myself on Saturday (my official day), I wouldn't be shocked at the results.
As an aside (and an excuse to squeeze a picture in, cos that's what blog reader want, apparently), I believe in keeping fast day meals simple — I don't want to be faffing around with food when I am not free to just chuck stuff in. You can eat what you want all week, so two days should not need to be sexed up! This was some lovely spiced basa fish with griddled courgettes and mushrooms I had — very low in calories, so perfect for fasting :-)
So Saturday arrived and I (officially) got on the scales. 11st 4.6lbs. What the hell? After having a Chinese takeaway last night?? Man... OK... Just over half a pound is good, but how could I make it better? Hmm, could I try going to the loo…? Would that make a difference? Worth a try, surely? Well, I'm glad I tried, because boy, did that poo pay off! 11st 4lbs — IN YOUR FACE, FAT BODY!
There is a part of me that feels slightly dishonest doing a Weigh Day evacuation because I don't always try for a Number 2 before I get on the scales every week. But then I thought, "Fuck it — I'm in the fat-weighing business, not the poo-weighing business. It's not cheating!" And it's not like the old days where I used to pop a bunch of Sennakot before bed and pray to have a massive shit the next day… ANYWAY. Poo stories aside — I lost over a pound. I win. The End.
So I was feeling excellent on Saturday. And when you feel excellent, you want to do all you can to continue feeling this way. So, time for some exercise! I had nipped out earlier in the day and stepping out the front door was like entering an oven, so running was out of the question — I didn't want to miss my friend's birthday celebrations suffering from heat stroke. So I decided to do my Davina Power of 3 DVD. It had been well over a year since I had done it (I used to do it religiously) but at least exercising in the living room was a bit cooler.
The warm up was fine, but then I started doing the leg workout. The moves were feeling intense. Too intense. Every squat felt like someone was kicking me in my butt cheek — HARD. Halfway in, I decided that this was a stupid idea, especially as I was planning to wear proper heels for the first time in year later that night — I really didn't need jelly-leg syndrome! So I did some arm work and then went off to ice some birthday cupcakes, naturally.
After stuffing our face with three fajitas, we headed out to my friend's birthday. Excellent night out (although we were all sweating like little bitches), lots of nice snacks (that I didn't need but ate anyway) and I didn't fall and break my ankles, which is my constant fear when in heels — RESULT! As we didn't get a chance to grab a hot dog after the club, I rustled up more fajitas when we got in at about 3.30am, as well as defrost some dhal — never underestimate the effort a drunk foodie will put into a worthy post-club snack! Finally, it was time for bed.
The next morning —OH DEAR GOD. I could not move. Seriously, everything was aching. Thighs, calves, butt, hips, triceps — everything. It took me ages to get out of bed and I actually felt like I had been in a fight. FUCKING DAVINA!! (I am still in pain as I write this.) However it reminded me how good this DVD is, so I am going to try and squeeze it in once a week.
Having eaten all that food before bed, I didn't have a hangover at all the next day, so it should have been a good day food-wise. Unfortunately, there was no proper food in the house, so I gorged on cakes, biscuits and crisps ALL DAY. Not very satisfying or nutritious really. And it means I have to really be careful this week, as well as being on top of my exercise. In fact, my new technique when I am feeling tired on my run is to grab a handful of my saddlebags — honestly, that keeps me moving! (Although I probably look a bit mental.)
I have lost just over 8lbs in 6 weeks. My next goal is 10lbs (because it's a nice round number) and then after that it will be to get under 11st. If things keep going at this rate, a bit more of the wardrobe should start to fit at last. Roll on dinner with the girls!
No, I'm talking about a different kind of dumping, people. (Don't worry — it won't be for very long.) I weighed myself after my second fast day last week and my weight was exactly the same as the week before. Given how much I had eaten over the weekend, plus eating out at work, I was quite content with being 11st 5.2lbs. At least this way when I weighed myself on Saturday (my official day), I wouldn't be shocked at the results.
As an aside (and an excuse to squeeze a picture in, cos that's what blog reader want, apparently), I believe in keeping fast day meals simple — I don't want to be faffing around with food when I am not free to just chuck stuff in. You can eat what you want all week, so two days should not need to be sexed up! This was some lovely spiced basa fish with griddled courgettes and mushrooms I had — very low in calories, so perfect for fasting :-)
 |
| This is even better with smoked basa… |
So Saturday arrived and I (officially) got on the scales. 11st 4.6lbs. What the hell? After having a Chinese takeaway last night?? Man... OK... Just over half a pound is good, but how could I make it better? Hmm, could I try going to the loo…? Would that make a difference? Worth a try, surely? Well, I'm glad I tried, because boy, did that poo pay off! 11st 4lbs — IN YOUR FACE, FAT BODY!
There is a part of me that feels slightly dishonest doing a Weigh Day evacuation because I don't always try for a Number 2 before I get on the scales every week. But then I thought, "Fuck it — I'm in the fat-weighing business, not the poo-weighing business. It's not cheating!" And it's not like the old days where I used to pop a bunch of Sennakot before bed and pray to have a massive shit the next day… ANYWAY. Poo stories aside — I lost over a pound. I win. The End.
So I was feeling excellent on Saturday. And when you feel excellent, you want to do all you can to continue feeling this way. So, time for some exercise! I had nipped out earlier in the day and stepping out the front door was like entering an oven, so running was out of the question — I didn't want to miss my friend's birthday celebrations suffering from heat stroke. So I decided to do my Davina Power of 3 DVD. It had been well over a year since I had done it (I used to do it religiously) but at least exercising in the living room was a bit cooler.
The warm up was fine, but then I started doing the leg workout. The moves were feeling intense. Too intense. Every squat felt like someone was kicking me in my butt cheek — HARD. Halfway in, I decided that this was a stupid idea, especially as I was planning to wear proper heels for the first time in year later that night — I really didn't need jelly-leg syndrome! So I did some arm work and then went off to ice some birthday cupcakes, naturally.
After stuffing our face with three fajitas, we headed out to my friend's birthday. Excellent night out (although we were all sweating like little bitches), lots of nice snacks (that I didn't need but ate anyway) and I didn't fall and break my ankles, which is my constant fear when in heels — RESULT! As we didn't get a chance to grab a hot dog after the club, I rustled up more fajitas when we got in at about 3.30am, as well as defrost some dhal — never underestimate the effort a drunk foodie will put into a worthy post-club snack! Finally, it was time for bed.
The next morning —OH DEAR GOD. I could not move. Seriously, everything was aching. Thighs, calves, butt, hips, triceps — everything. It took me ages to get out of bed and I actually felt like I had been in a fight. FUCKING DAVINA!! (I am still in pain as I write this.) However it reminded me how good this DVD is, so I am going to try and squeeze it in once a week.
Having eaten all that food before bed, I didn't have a hangover at all the next day, so it should have been a good day food-wise. Unfortunately, there was no proper food in the house, so I gorged on cakes, biscuits and crisps ALL DAY. Not very satisfying or nutritious really. And it means I have to really be careful this week, as well as being on top of my exercise. In fact, my new technique when I am feeling tired on my run is to grab a handful of my saddlebags — honestly, that keeps me moving! (Although I probably look a bit mental.)
I have lost just over 8lbs in 6 weeks. My next goal is 10lbs (because it's a nice round number) and then after that it will be to get under 11st. If things keep going at this rate, a bit more of the wardrobe should start to fit at last. Roll on dinner with the girls!
Monday, 8 July 2013
Week 4 & 5 : A Happy Ending (but not that kind)
Sorry for missing a post last week. Work was manic and then I started my weekend early, so was too busy mooching. But I'm here now to fill you in.
Week 3 on 5:2 and things seemed to be going OK. I was really determined to lose weight having stayed the same the week before, so I tried to be good and stick within my calorie limit. I took a deep breath and got on the scales (then exhaled quickly — might make me heavier) — I had stayed EXACTLY the same. Well, actually, I had lost 0.2lbs, which I was going to take, thank you very much. So two weeks of staying the same... Was it finally time to accept that the fast diet was too slow for me? (Oh my GOD, how Carrie Bradshaw was that?? Shame.)
Hmm… I wasn't quite ready to give it up, so I decided to peruse the last few weeks on MFP and see what differed from week to week… Quite a lot, it turned out.
Week 1 = 671 calories over weekly target
Week 2 = 1653 calories over weekly target
Week 3 = 1869 calories over weekly target
Week 4 = 2215 UNDER weekly target, but oh wait, that's because I didn't even log what I had eaten over Saturday and Sunday…
I also realised I hadn't run at all in Week 4… Suddenly, the reason for staying the same the past two weeks was blatantly obvious. RIGHT. Week 5 needed to be different. I had to stick to a daily limit, not go over my 500 calories on a fast day and get back running. I think I was feeling a little down that week (for no apparent reason), but unless I was going to cut out eating altogether (ha, fat chance), depression was not going to shrink my jean size.
So Week 5 commenced. I stuck to all my rules, went running, upped my protein and even cut down carbs. After my first fast day in the week, I weighed myself, filled with excitement about all the good changes I had made…
STILL THE EXACT SAME FUCKING WEIGHT. Cunting hell — fuck this stupid diet! I was getting quite annoyed now. I didn't know how much more I could tweak the bloody thing. I ranted to Blog Mate, who tried to bring me some comfort with kind words like "it's probably just lady time weight", or "you WILL lose this week, I promise" and "just stick with it — it took time to put on, so it will take time to come off…". But I was having none of it. I was feeling fed up and just wanted to eat EVERYTHING. But I didn't. I figured I would at least wait until weigh day, and then cry in a heap on the floor. So after my second fast day, I got on the scales.…
LOST A MOTHERFUCKING POUND! BOO-YA!
I was so chuffed. It was a clear, whole pound and meant I'd lost just shy of half a stone in 5 weeks. This made me happy. So happy that I went out for a long run in the searing midday heat — not one of my smartest moves, but I did a frickin' good job, despite still sweating several hours later. So after all this positivity, the best thing to do was to be good over the weekend and try and maintain that superb feeling, right? Wrong. SO WRONG.
I play a gig in Colchester every year and all my friends always come up to watch, but they are mainly there for the excellent barbecue food and delicious cakes. And I happily join in. At the end of the day, 5:2 is supposed to enable you to have an evening of food and wine without freaking out, so I was not going to try and diet. However, I did want to try and listen to my stomach so that I wouldn't look like I had eaten the whole barbecue stock by the time I got on stage, desperately pushing my tum in with my bass.
My food schedule (seriously, can I ever hope to be thin?) was burger, veggie food, hot dog, cake. But I didn't fancy the hot dog come the evening, so I skipped it — yey me! I had a very dry piece of coconut cake later — I probably shouldn't have finished it, but it was there. We got back home in the early hours of the morning, and at about 2am sitting in bed, I thought I would tally everything up. FUCK. ME. OK, I thought I deserved a massive pat on the back for skipping the hot dog, but buggery fuck — I should have skipped A LOT more!
I forgot I had eaten a bit of pasta before we had left — 273 calories.
I had also had a cup of tea and some Mini Max cereal for breakfast — 167 calories.
It had slipped my mind, but when we stopped for petrol on the way up, I bought a packet of Scampi Fries and had a McDonald's Iced Mocha - 437 calories.
I had also drunk 3 glasses of apple juice and a Pimms — 492 calories.
And even whilst I was entering all of these into MFP, I was eating crisps from a big, bottomless bag — 550 calories. (Incidentally, Big Bottomless Bag will end up being my nickname if I don't stop gorging.)
Grand total? 3500 calories for the day.
And there you have it — what happens if I am not counting every single thing that goes in my giant gob. Actually, I was ready to go "Look blog readers, I didn't even eat much and this is how calories are mean to me", but then I realised that this IS a big list of food! But I'm just saying: it's easy to eat way more than you should, especially when none of it is very nutritious.
The next day my boyfriend lost a bet (he thought Andy Murray wouldn't win the tennis — and he is Scottish!!) so he had to buy dinner. Dinner was a double pepperoni pizza with salad, garlic bread and Fanta Zero… Let's just call it a weekend of fun eh? I didn't eat my share of pizza because I was full, nor did I eat my Cornetto for dessert, so I must have been really fucking full.
This morning, I could barely walk because I was so bloated and uncomfortable. Honestly, I looked about 5 months pregnant — it actually scared me. A bit of peppermint tea sorted it out and, truth be told, I am very glad to be fasting today. I have a Morrisons soup for lunch and turkey and vegetables with Old El Paso Smokey Fajita seasoning for dinner — it's my new favourite meal.
So I am going to stick with this diet. I just need to accept sometimes things might move slowly. As long as I don't put on any weight, it means things are going in the right direction. It feels sustainable. Yes, it has required more tweaking than Dr Mosley might have suggested, but that's not the end of the world really. It still feels like a realistic way to lose this weight, and I actually feel dead nice at the moment :-)
Week 3 on 5:2 and things seemed to be going OK. I was really determined to lose weight having stayed the same the week before, so I tried to be good and stick within my calorie limit. I took a deep breath and got on the scales (then exhaled quickly — might make me heavier) — I had stayed EXACTLY the same. Well, actually, I had lost 0.2lbs, which I was going to take, thank you very much. So two weeks of staying the same... Was it finally time to accept that the fast diet was too slow for me? (Oh my GOD, how Carrie Bradshaw was that?? Shame.)
Hmm… I wasn't quite ready to give it up, so I decided to peruse the last few weeks on MFP and see what differed from week to week… Quite a lot, it turned out.
Week 1 = 671 calories over weekly target
Week 2 = 1653 calories over weekly target
Week 3 = 1869 calories over weekly target
Week 4 = 2215 UNDER weekly target, but oh wait, that's because I didn't even log what I had eaten over Saturday and Sunday…
I also realised I hadn't run at all in Week 4… Suddenly, the reason for staying the same the past two weeks was blatantly obvious. RIGHT. Week 5 needed to be different. I had to stick to a daily limit, not go over my 500 calories on a fast day and get back running. I think I was feeling a little down that week (for no apparent reason), but unless I was going to cut out eating altogether (ha, fat chance), depression was not going to shrink my jean size.
So Week 5 commenced. I stuck to all my rules, went running, upped my protein and even cut down carbs. After my first fast day in the week, I weighed myself, filled with excitement about all the good changes I had made…
STILL THE EXACT SAME FUCKING WEIGHT. Cunting hell — fuck this stupid diet! I was getting quite annoyed now. I didn't know how much more I could tweak the bloody thing. I ranted to Blog Mate, who tried to bring me some comfort with kind words like "it's probably just lady time weight", or "you WILL lose this week, I promise" and "just stick with it — it took time to put on, so it will take time to come off…". But I was having none of it. I was feeling fed up and just wanted to eat EVERYTHING. But I didn't. I figured I would at least wait until weigh day, and then cry in a heap on the floor. So after my second fast day, I got on the scales.…
LOST A MOTHERFUCKING POUND! BOO-YA!
I was so chuffed. It was a clear, whole pound and meant I'd lost just shy of half a stone in 5 weeks. This made me happy. So happy that I went out for a long run in the searing midday heat — not one of my smartest moves, but I did a frickin' good job, despite still sweating several hours later. So after all this positivity, the best thing to do was to be good over the weekend and try and maintain that superb feeling, right? Wrong. SO WRONG.
I play a gig in Colchester every year and all my friends always come up to watch, but they are mainly there for the excellent barbecue food and delicious cakes. And I happily join in. At the end of the day, 5:2 is supposed to enable you to have an evening of food and wine without freaking out, so I was not going to try and diet. However, I did want to try and listen to my stomach so that I wouldn't look like I had eaten the whole barbecue stock by the time I got on stage, desperately pushing my tum in with my bass.
My food schedule (seriously, can I ever hope to be thin?) was burger, veggie food, hot dog, cake. But I didn't fancy the hot dog come the evening, so I skipped it — yey me! I had a very dry piece of coconut cake later — I probably shouldn't have finished it, but it was there. We got back home in the early hours of the morning, and at about 2am sitting in bed, I thought I would tally everything up. FUCK. ME. OK, I thought I deserved a massive pat on the back for skipping the hot dog, but buggery fuck — I should have skipped A LOT more!
I forgot I had eaten a bit of pasta before we had left — 273 calories.
I had also had a cup of tea and some Mini Max cereal for breakfast — 167 calories.
It had slipped my mind, but when we stopped for petrol on the way up, I bought a packet of Scampi Fries and had a McDonald's Iced Mocha - 437 calories.
I had also drunk 3 glasses of apple juice and a Pimms — 492 calories.
And even whilst I was entering all of these into MFP, I was eating crisps from a big, bottomless bag — 550 calories. (Incidentally, Big Bottomless Bag will end up being my nickname if I don't stop gorging.)
Grand total? 3500 calories for the day.
And there you have it — what happens if I am not counting every single thing that goes in my giant gob. Actually, I was ready to go "Look blog readers, I didn't even eat much and this is how calories are mean to me", but then I realised that this IS a big list of food! But I'm just saying: it's easy to eat way more than you should, especially when none of it is very nutritious.
The next day my boyfriend lost a bet (he thought Andy Murray wouldn't win the tennis — and he is Scottish!!) so he had to buy dinner. Dinner was a double pepperoni pizza with salad, garlic bread and Fanta Zero… Let's just call it a weekend of fun eh? I didn't eat my share of pizza because I was full, nor did I eat my Cornetto for dessert, so I must have been really fucking full.
This morning, I could barely walk because I was so bloated and uncomfortable. Honestly, I looked about 5 months pregnant — it actually scared me. A bit of peppermint tea sorted it out and, truth be told, I am very glad to be fasting today. I have a Morrisons soup for lunch and turkey and vegetables with Old El Paso Smokey Fajita seasoning for dinner — it's my new favourite meal.
So I am going to stick with this diet. I just need to accept sometimes things might move slowly. As long as I don't put on any weight, it means things are going in the right direction. It feels sustainable. Yes, it has required more tweaking than Dr Mosley might have suggested, but that's not the end of the world really. It still feels like a realistic way to lose this weight, and I actually feel dead nice at the moment :-)
Thursday, 27 June 2013
Frickin' Fasting…
I REALLY don't feel like fasting today.
I don't know what's wrong with me — it could be a lot of guilt from not exercising this week (I'm injured, aren't I?) but I have woken up this morning in a massive grump and not in the mood for it. But I will do it — I am not going to sabotage myself. Yet. I've had a cup of proper tea though… I only drink herbal tea on a fast day usually, but I figured having a proper tea might a) put me in a better mood and b) stop me from going mental on a packet of biscuits. Which, helpfully, I can see out the corner of my eye.
For lunch today I have Glorious Sunny Thai Chicken soup — 204 calories for half the tub. It’s bloody good! It's coconutty and full of flavour, but I like to water it down a touch to make the most of it, as it's quite thick. Water is calorie-free, right? RIGHT???
For dinner, I'm trying out something I found at this blog www.fastdays.wordpress.com. We have quite different writing styles (I have a potty mouth, she does not), but Kirsty has been doing this diet for longer than me and has a few good recipes on her blog. One absolute BEAUT of a find was Waitrose's Prosciutto Cappelletti — half a pack is a mere 166 calories. Now, in the Michael Mosley book, he does say to avoid pasta, bread and potatoes on a fast day, so I won't be eating this all the time. But on a day where one is struggling (much like today!), it certainly comes in handy. I had it on Tuesday with some griddled courgettes, mushrooms and a tiny bit of pesto and it was really delicious.
Chillis are rather nice to eat on this diet because they make you fill up on water (although I think they made my tum go a bit weird on the last occasion). And this meal also made me discover the joy of a griddled mushroom too — who knew?
For me, it's quite important that my evening meal is nice. Soup at lunch is fine, but I would recommend trying to make your fast day dinner as nice as you can. I had a weird kitchen situation on Tuesday where my BF actually helped me come up with a fast day meal! He likes to eat Morrison's Basa Fillets and discovered they are only 228 calories per pack! Which is really good because it means we can eat the same meal on a fast day next week, which is nice because we have been eating separately a lot recently (because of fasting, not because we hate each other's guts). I try to avoid lingering looks at his roast potatoes or chips or Chinese-style pork chops when I can't eat much, but I think I'm getting better at it, which is good ("You can eat chips tomorrow, you can eat chips tomorrow…"). So fish and roast vegetables next week will be a welcome change!
OK, just gotta keep busy and get through this bastard day…
I don't know what's wrong with me — it could be a lot of guilt from not exercising this week (I'm injured, aren't I?) but I have woken up this morning in a massive grump and not in the mood for it. But I will do it — I am not going to sabotage myself. Yet. I've had a cup of proper tea though… I only drink herbal tea on a fast day usually, but I figured having a proper tea might a) put me in a better mood and b) stop me from going mental on a packet of biscuits. Which, helpfully, I can see out the corner of my eye.
For lunch today I have Glorious Sunny Thai Chicken soup — 204 calories for half the tub. It’s bloody good! It's coconutty and full of flavour, but I like to water it down a touch to make the most of it, as it's quite thick. Water is calorie-free, right? RIGHT???
For dinner, I'm trying out something I found at this blog www.fastdays.wordpress.com. We have quite different writing styles (I have a potty mouth, she does not), but Kirsty has been doing this diet for longer than me and has a few good recipes on her blog. One absolute BEAUT of a find was Waitrose's Prosciutto Cappelletti — half a pack is a mere 166 calories. Now, in the Michael Mosley book, he does say to avoid pasta, bread and potatoes on a fast day, so I won't be eating this all the time. But on a day where one is struggling (much like today!), it certainly comes in handy. I had it on Tuesday with some griddled courgettes, mushrooms and a tiny bit of pesto and it was really delicious.
 |
| Not a great photo, but taking 'awesome pictures' was not my priority once it was ready! It was Drool City behind that lens… |
Chillis are rather nice to eat on this diet because they make you fill up on water (although I think they made my tum go a bit weird on the last occasion). And this meal also made me discover the joy of a griddled mushroom too — who knew?
For me, it's quite important that my evening meal is nice. Soup at lunch is fine, but I would recommend trying to make your fast day dinner as nice as you can. I had a weird kitchen situation on Tuesday where my BF actually helped me come up with a fast day meal! He likes to eat Morrison's Basa Fillets and discovered they are only 228 calories per pack! Which is really good because it means we can eat the same meal on a fast day next week, which is nice because we have been eating separately a lot recently (because of fasting, not because we hate each other's guts). I try to avoid lingering looks at his roast potatoes or chips or Chinese-style pork chops when I can't eat much, but I think I'm getting better at it, which is good ("You can eat chips tomorrow, you can eat chips tomorrow…"). So fish and roast vegetables next week will be a welcome change!
OK, just gotta keep busy and get through this bastard day…
Monday, 24 June 2013
Week 3 : Whoops…
Yup — I didn't lose this week. Well, technically I did lose a tiny bit. But I don't think a post-poo 0.2lbs is worth mentioning, do you? (And yet I just did…)
It's fine, seriously. In a way, it was good to test the limits of this diet a bit. This week, I did four exercise sessions and had about 2000 calories every day ( I know, what a lard-bucket), resulting in me staying exactly the same weight as last week. So as maintenance plans go, that's not bad! But seeing as I don't want to maintain this chubby body, I will be running a tight ship this week. And by 'tight' I obviously mean a fairly loose regimen that has me eating Cadbury Trifles and such.
I am getting to grips with 5:2 otherwise. Soup for lunch, protein and veg for dinner — it's nice not having to obsess over EVERY meal, EVERY day. I tell you one thing though — I am so fucking pleased when I go to bed on a fast day, because tomorrow will be filled with a cheese muffin or some crisps or a biscuit.
However, I did notice one quite disgusting thing about last week! According to my weekly round-up on myfitnesspal (MFP), I ate 19% protein and a whopping 41% of FAT. DOUBLE THE AMOUNT. That is gross. And wrong. And explains a lot. So this week I need to keep an eye on my intake. Especially as I am terrified of dying. (Ha! You were not expecting me to bust that one out, were you?) Like, ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED. It is the one thing that genuinely makes me feel like I might throw up. My brain can't compute death — mine or anyone else's. I know I HAVE to die (as does everyone), but it might be nice to prolong my life by a) not getting diabetes, b) cutting back on salt, c) staying fit. URGH.
Bearing this in mind, it means that running (or any exercise) can no longer be something I only do when I want to lose weight — it needs to be a way of life. Which is why God bestowed a lovely belated running injury on me at about 11pm on Saturday night. Fuck knows what happened — my run at 4pm was absolutely fine. Then suddenly, 7 hours later, I can barely walk on my left foot. I think my hardcore massaging just made it worse ("Squeeze out the pain! Squeeze out the pain!"), because it was still really stiff all of Sunday, but today it seems better. But I think I should skip Zumba tonight… you know, just in case... (Get nasty, get nasty…)
Oh, I forgot to mention — last week in Zumba, we did what the instructor called "a song from the East" — it was some sort of Asian tune. I swear she was making waaaaaay more eye contact with me (being the only brown in town), as if to say "Come on, you've been shit at everything else today — you should at least be good at THIS one…" — that is fucking racist, man! What, just cos I'm brown?
Sadly, I nailed that dance. BIG TIME.
It's fine, seriously. In a way, it was good to test the limits of this diet a bit. This week, I did four exercise sessions and had about 2000 calories every day ( I know, what a lard-bucket), resulting in me staying exactly the same weight as last week. So as maintenance plans go, that's not bad! But seeing as I don't want to maintain this chubby body, I will be running a tight ship this week. And by 'tight' I obviously mean a fairly loose regimen that has me eating Cadbury Trifles and such.
I am getting to grips with 5:2 otherwise. Soup for lunch, protein and veg for dinner — it's nice not having to obsess over EVERY meal, EVERY day. I tell you one thing though — I am so fucking pleased when I go to bed on a fast day, because tomorrow will be filled with a cheese muffin or some crisps or a biscuit.
However, I did notice one quite disgusting thing about last week! According to my weekly round-up on myfitnesspal (MFP), I ate 19% protein and a whopping 41% of FAT. DOUBLE THE AMOUNT. That is gross. And wrong. And explains a lot. So this week I need to keep an eye on my intake. Especially as I am terrified of dying. (Ha! You were not expecting me to bust that one out, were you?) Like, ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED. It is the one thing that genuinely makes me feel like I might throw up. My brain can't compute death — mine or anyone else's. I know I HAVE to die (as does everyone), but it might be nice to prolong my life by a) not getting diabetes, b) cutting back on salt, c) staying fit. URGH.
Bearing this in mind, it means that running (or any exercise) can no longer be something I only do when I want to lose weight — it needs to be a way of life. Which is why God bestowed a lovely belated running injury on me at about 11pm on Saturday night. Fuck knows what happened — my run at 4pm was absolutely fine. Then suddenly, 7 hours later, I can barely walk on my left foot. I think my hardcore massaging just made it worse ("Squeeze out the pain! Squeeze out the pain!"), because it was still really stiff all of Sunday, but today it seems better. But I think I should skip Zumba tonight… you know, just in case... (Get nasty, get nasty…)
Oh, I forgot to mention — last week in Zumba, we did what the instructor called "a song from the East" — it was some sort of Asian tune. I swear she was making waaaaaay more eye contact with me (being the only brown in town), as if to say "Come on, you've been shit at everything else today — you should at least be good at THIS one…" — that is fucking racist, man! What, just cos I'm brown?
Sadly, I nailed that dance. BIG TIME.
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