Fighting some of the demons.

My demons are my food habits. I'd like to say I'm a compulsive eater, but I'm more like an overeater. I just googled 'Overeaters Anonymous' and this is what came up:

OA members experience many different patterns of food behaviors. These “symptoms” are as varied as our membership. Among them are:

• obsession with body weight, size and shape
• eating binges or grazing
• preoccupation with reducing diets
• starving
• laxative or diuretic abuse
• excessive exercise
• inducing vomiting after eating
• chewing and spitting out food
• use of diet pills, shots and other medical interventions to control weight
• inability to stop eating certain foods after taking the first bite
• fantasies about food
• vulnerability to quick-weight-loss schemes
• constant preoccupation with food
• using food as a reward or comfort

I probably do more than half of these on a regular basis, which is very worrying. They say the first step is admitting that you have a problem, so here goes. I have a problem with food. Food is my best friend and my worst enemy. It has been there through thick and thin, good days and bad days. But no more. Food is fuel. Food is fuelling my body to do the things it needs to survive and to thrive. While I think that food comforts me, it's the memory of time with my mum, dad and family (that always revolved around food) that is the true comfort. I have a massive sweet tooth, and years of eating ridiculous amounts of sweet food (especially the old faithful... Dairy Milk) has really built up my addiction to sugar. I can sit and eat a family block and not think twice. All of a sudden it's gone.

A couple of statements have been highlighted to me recently. 'The first bite tastes exactly the same as the last. Why do you need the ones in between?' AND 'Do you remember every mouthful?'. No, I don't remember every mouthful. I zone out when I'm eating. I don't savour the food, I just eat it mindlessly. I've been reading some articles on 'mindfulness' in every day life, and trying to apply some of the principles to both eating and living. Mainly just the parts about stopping and thinking about exactly what is happening in my body at the time. While walking, thinking about how every movement feels. While eating, thinking about how the food tastes, feels, and why I'm eating it. 

The other thing I need to be mindful of is my cravings. It is perfectly normal to WANT something, but I don't have to give in to those cravings EVERY TIME. And I don't have to eat a sh*tload of whatever it is that I feel like. It's okay to say no to something. It's okay to say yes to something. It's okay to feel hungry, and it's okay to overeat on the rare occasion. 

The hardest thing about food is that we can't live without it. You don't need alcohol to survive. You don't need cigarettes to survive. You DO need food to survive. I need to change my thinking about food, to using it as a source of physical nourishment and fuel, rather than a comfort and a companion.

A personal challenge.

I've set myself some pretty ambitious goals, distance wise, for the rest of the year. On Runkeeper, you can set goals, so I have!

I've set a goal of 250km walking and 1000km riding. I'm pretty sure the riding one is too ambitious, seeing as I don't ride very often, but I would love to smash the walking one and possibly even double it!

I'm trying to walk twice a day. In the morning it's around Albert Pake Lake after I drop my bf off at work, for between 40mins and an hour. Then I head off to work for a shower etc. After work, I head out for a stroll for another hour or so. If I do this for the next two weeks, I'm hoping to begin the habit of exercising regularly, so that when the 12WBT kicks in properly I can either do the outside program at the lake in the morning, or the gym program at night, and still keep one of the walks. I don't particularly WANT to be exercising for two hours a day, but it's better than spending the extra two hours on the couch!!

I keep reminding myself that 'normal' people exercise every day. I've been abnormal all my life because I don't - even though it's my normal. I need to change my normal. I will always have a gym membership. I will always have to go for walks most days. This can't stop once I reach my goal weight, because then it will be a waste - I'll gain everything back and be right back where I started.

The power of positive thinking!

Friday night, I got a text message from one of the cali girls, Ashlee - the one I had done the 35km Eastlink ride with last year.

'Hey buddy, wanna ride the Lilydale-Warburton trail tomorrow?'

My first thought? No f*cking way. This weekend is the first weekend in a while that both me and Dave had no plans. Our only plan was to sleep in, enjoy each other's company. The Lily-Warby trail is 40km one way, mostly hills (both down and up!), gravel.

My next thought? Maybe I should. Last weekend Dave worked and I sat on my fat butt all weekend. I did get stuff done (unpicking for calisthenics), but I sat on the couch for 48 hours. I've signed up for 12WBT again, and the season starts Nov 19. I should probably get myself organised and start making exercise a priority. Also, I ate like crap on Friday (almost 2000 calories over my allowance!) so the ride should negate SOME of that.

I messaged back. I was in.

I looked up some of the bike websites, and found out the info. In my head, we were going from Lilydale to Wandin (about 20km return). There was no way we'd make it all the way to Warby and back.

The time came (2pm) and we were at Maccas getting our bikes ready. Something in my mind just clicked. We were going to do the whole thing.

I've been receiving emails from a motivational speaker guy - every morning I read about how I should be changing my mindset, my thought patterns. Changing my perspective on things to a more positive outlook. I started the ride with positive thoughts.

These quickly became harder and harder to keep positive, though I refused to let myself think that I wasn't going to make it. All of the 'flat' parts felt uphill. The distance didn't pass anywhere near as quickly as we'd planned. Because we started out at 2pm, we had about 5 hours of sunlight to travel the 75ish km. After an hour, we'd only gone just over 10. This wasn't going to happen. Ash and I kept pedalling. We got to the 20km point, Wandin, and Ash mentioned that we could turn around at any time. I'd been thinking that maybe we should turn around, but in that split second when the words left her mouth, I thought 'No. We're doing this!' Ash is pretty motivational towards me - she's got an amazing body, amazing dedication to cali, and a great personality. She knows when I'm struggling and gives a little pep talk just at the moment that I'm trying to sum up the courage to tell her I'm giving up. I told her we were going to push a bit harder, and get to Warburton. I had decided in my mind that we would ride until 4:30, then turn around. It was about 3:30, with about 10km to go. We got there at about 4:20. Woohoo!!

We found a pub, got a coke, and went to the loo. Sitting there, on the deck, Ash and I looked at each other and both said 'how the f*ck are we going to get home?'. I suggested we call a cab, one would stay with the bikes, the other would get the cab back to the car and drive up to get the other. Ash suggested paying one of the guys in the pub with a ute to drive us back to Lilydale. Instead, we got our wobbly legs back on the bikes and started riding home. The sun was going down, and we would be running out of light shortly.

Ash has a little computer on her bike that tells current speed, and we aimed for 20km/h on the way home. We averaged about 15 on the way up, so wanted to push harder. Ashlee had been given some advice regarding gears and hills, and we really tried to put this into practice, especially on the way home. We were really pushing hard, keeping in low gear and keeping the pedal rate (it's called cadence, we have since found out) high. We were travelling well, until we hit the massive hill that had seemed so lovely on the way there.

It was a killer. Ash is quite a bit fitter than me, so I let her go ahead at her own speed (she stopped every so often to let me catch up!) and concentrated on pedalling, breathing, and keeping my thoughts positive. I didn't look ahead, I looked down just past my handlebars. I changed down gears so that I could keep my breathing in line with my pedalling, and took a really deep breath every few breaths to avoid hyperventilating. That hill almost beat me. We got to Mt Evelyn (about 10kms to go) and I was struggling. I felt like I was about to vomit, and at the pedestrian crossing where we had to stop to wait for the lights to change, my legs starting shaking uncontrollably and I felt like I was going to pass out.

We'd bought lots of water with us - I had mine in a backpack with a tube so could suck away whenever I wanted. We also had some jelly snakes and muesli bars which we'd eaten half of while we stopped at the pub. At Mt Evelyn, we'd been riding for about 4.5 hours. My body was giving out on me because I had not fuelled it properly.

We crossed the road, and stopped on the other side. I ate some more snakes, had a big drink, and a rest for a few minutes. The sugar kicked in and I felt right to keep going. The last 10km flew. It had looked flat on the way there, but it seemed that it was actually slightly uphill, because we hardly put in any effort to get home from there. Gears were changed all the way up, and we were flying with very little effort. It was getting dark (that big hill had taken a LOT of time) and neither of us have lights so we really needed to get back to the cars.

We got back at 7:45pm, and had logged 5:12 riding. We had stopped at the pub for about half an hour, although it felt like about 10 minutes.

Next time, we'll leave a little earlier so that the pub time can be extended - not to drink, but to rest and refuel. We also decided that next time we'll stop at least twice in the way up and twice on the way back for lollies and drinks, to avoid the body-shutdown situation. I really didn't feel well, and don't want to feel like that again!!

I truly believe that I would have given up if I had let my mind wander to the places it usually does when I'm challenging myself. Usually, my mind gives up long before my body, and my thoughts turn negative very quickly. 'I can't do this'. 'It's too hard'. 'Next time. Give up now and come back another time'. 'I can't'.

The thoughts this time were 'I can'. 'I will'. 'This is hard, but I'm not dying'. 'Keep pedalling'. 'Keep your breathing calm'. And the big one, that I'm not quite sure I believe... 'Ash will never make you do this again if you go all the way this time'......

I'm still here!!

You might have thought that I was gone.... but you were wrong! I'm still here, and I'm still kicking. My weight loss journey has taken a back seat while I enjoy my life and enjoy being in love and feeling on top of the world. But I haven't given up, no sirree, I have not.

I've maintained my weight. I've kept up exercising regularly (at least 4x a week) and while I'm not burning mega calories or lifting a ton, I'm doing it, and I'm proud of where I am. I am nowhere near happy enough with this body of mine to stop, but I'm determined not to give up. I read once that you need to weigh up what you want more - the 'bad food', or the body. Right now, the bad food is winning more often than it should, but I'm not going to walk around starving and grumpy just so I can be thinner quicker. It's just not going to happen.

There's a song in Sweet Charity called "I'm a Brass Band" and it describes me perfectly right now. "All kinds of music is pouring out of me 'cause somebody loves me at last". And that's how I feel. So in love it's making me sick. I'm in the kind of relationship that I hated watching - kisses, cuddles, waking up wrapped in somebody, calling each other 'babe' and making plans for the future. Sometimes I have a memory of a conversation or a moment and think 'God, how lame!'. It's amazing. If this is what my parents have (and have had for 30 years), and my grandparents had for 50 years.... I want it forever too. It scares me sometimes, just how much he means to me.

Don't get me wrong, it's not all sunshine and daisies - he gives me the shits sometimes, being a guy and all. Not worrying about cooking, or washing, or cleaning. Forgetting stuff I've told him. All the usual crap that comes with living together and being mundane and boring. But you know what? It's exactly what I want. I do things for him because he appreciates me (and bloody does it himself when I tell him to!). 

Now the future. Marriage and babies. That kind of stuff cannot happen in this body. I've got a year to get it organised - if not weighing less, then the weight being made of muscle and strength, rather than flab and wobble. I can do it. I just need to say no to that craving in my head - the little voice that tells me the 'something sweet' would be nice after dinner. Say no more than I say yes. 

And then I can say yes...

Torn between two lovers...

I'm torn between my love of chocolate and my desire for a healthier me. Right now, chocolate is winning, and my healthier me is just playing catch-up. I know what I need to do, but I just don't want to do it.

There, I admitted it. I don't want to do it right now. I know I'll be motivated again, one day. But right now, I simply can't do it. I want summer to be here. More specifically, I want daylight savings to be here. Waking up every morning in the dark, spending the day inside at work, getting home in the dark. It's not living. I really enjoy my walks at night. Once I get going, I could honestly walk for hours. And I need to. But I hate the dark. I want to get on my bike and ride, ride, ride. I can't do that in the dark.

The dark and cold is an excuse. I know this. Right now, though, I can't get past that excuse.

I think I need to revisit the 12WBT preseason tasks from last time. I'm sure I wrote a blog about it... Now I need to find that, go back, and do them again. In fact, I'm going to go do that now. Tootles!

A really long walk.

Today, I went for a really long walk. Just over an hour, just over 6km.

And it was all for nothing, because this afternoon, I ate 2 Mars Bars and 2 Twix Bars. I didn't walk enough to even work them off. What a waste. I don't know why I do it to myself.

Tomorrow is a new day. I'm planning my food, I'll be walking again tomorrow night. I'm trying to reduce my sodium intake as well as my carbs in the evenings.

Shit, this is hard....

Sometimes life gets in the way.

It does. Life gets in the way. It's been another month since I posted, and life has been happening. Nothing major, just normal, everyday life. Working hard, paying bills, saving money, cooking, cleaning, washing. Life. Fun is happening too - dinner, movies, playing, talking, laughing. LIVING.

I'm struggling to fit in exercise - actually, I'm not struggling to fit it in, I'm struggling to make it a priority. I hate when I get obsessive with exercise, so I'm trying not to, but I seem to be going the other way and forgetting it all together. This would be fine if I just stopped being silly with the snacking and the chocolate cravings. Some days I go really well, and other days nothing goes right.

I'm not getting the 10,000 steps a day. I'm not losing weight. But I'm happy. I wonder if I'm finished. I'm not ready to be finished, but I lack the motivation to do what I need to do to get going again. I know I'll get there, but I think I'm going to have a rest from being so 'into it'. I'm happy, and I want to enjoy this time.