Henny Things :)

This weekend was my hen's party. I had a ball, doing exactly what I wanted. It didn't involve strippers or a wild night out. It did, however, involve frilly undies, 'The Little Mermaid' and a lovely dinner out with family and friends.

The Little Mermaid isn't anything like I remembered - the last time I watched it I was 8 years old, it was my birthday party, and it was my first sleepover. I remember crying when Ariel got her voice back and got her prince. I don't remember all the scary stuff though... that movie is SCARY!! Ursula is horrible, there are storms galore, Triton destroys Ariel's room of treasures, and then everyone shrivels up and gets turned into worms. How did I LOVE this movie at 8 years old? It makes me think about how we remember things. We choose to remember things the way we want to, and forget all the stuff that makes us uncomfortable.

My life is a little bit like that. I remember the way I feel when I eat certain foods. I choose to forget the way it affects my body, both in the immediate and in the future. Uncomfortable moments in the toilet are forgotten. Jeans too tight are a distant memory. Constantly being disappointed when I have to buy bigger clothes and pretending that it's the manufacturers who are making the clothes smaller, not me who is getting bigger.

I'm so sick of the up and down of this 'journey'. It's not a journey, it's just life. I wish I could be more consistent, instead of all or nothing, but I'm not. I'm either starving or binging. I'm not ever just 'sensible'. I saw a girl today who I haven't seen for a few months. She hurt her hip and was bigger than me due to lack of movement. She's been in and out of hospital all year having operations and rehab and all of that crap, yet she stood in front of me looking absolutely stunning. She's lost a crapload of weight in the last few months, and I am so jealous.

I then had my hair trial this afternoon, and my hairdresser is also her hairdresser. I mentioned the transformation, and she just laughed and shook her head. 'You know how she did it, don't you?' she asked. 'No! Tell me the secret!' I pleaded. 'She just didn't eat. At all. And spent 3 hours a day in the gym. At least. And then SOMETIMES she would treat herself with a chai latte.'

I can't do that. How can I do that?

My worst fear came true. My dress doesn't fit. It's fixable though, and we find out on the weekend how they'll do it - I'm pretty sure they'll remove the zip and put in extra material to make a lace-up down the back. We measured everything though, and it seems the dress wasn't made to the measurements that were taken, it's about 2 inches too small in the waist. It's not my fault, but I feel like the biggest fatty regardless.

In spite of my current mood, I enjoyed my Hen's Day. I had my friends and family there, I ate, drank, and was merry. I had my makeup trial that morning so looked gorgeous and the dress I was wearing makes me feel amazing. I put everything behind me (as well as the sneaky weigh-in that had me a few kgs up... kgs!!) and just had fun. I plan on getting married only once, so this is my one chance to be the Hen. I don't want to be missing out on having fun because I'm trying not to eat or drink - that's not living.

I've got a couple of things going on this week, a few things that are going to be quite challenging emotionally (gotta get my big girl panties out, suck it up, and deal with it!), a few dinners out that I'll have to be careful with... but at some point, I've just got to stop making excuses for why this is so hard for me and just eat right and exercise consistently. That's all I have to do. Why can't I do it?

Leaving you with a pic of the Hen. Cheers!

And then the champagne made me rowdy...

The spread was fantastic:

Geez, my mum puts on a good party :) And I wonder why I think food and drink make me happy.... because they do!!!

A blur.

That's what the last 10 days have been. A blur. In a haze of moving, and final performances, and wedding preparation, I've been trying to get back on track. It hasn't really been working, because I've put on a couple of kilos in the last few weeks. Not too many, but enough to give me a bit of a wake-up call. Enough to make me want to snap out of this 'plateau' that is actually just me being really slack, and not really a plateau at all.

Tomorrow, I try on my dress for the first time. I'm scared. What if it doesn't fit? What if it's too small and the dressmaker can't fix it? What if I've spent $3000 on something that I cannot wear? I know it won't be out by much - I'm the same weight as I was when I first went to the bridal shop, but it doesn't make it any easier to believe that it will be okay. There's nothing I can do about it now, though.

Life is almost back to normal - we're pretty much moved in, Dave will be back at work Monday, and I'm back on LnE full time. I'm committed to not being persuaded to head over to the cafe at lunchtime. I can't say I'll be strong enough not to have takeaway for dinner if Dave chooses to, or to not have chocolate, but I will be strong enough to say no to this one thing. This is not going to happen overnight, but it will happen.

I also have slacked off on the exercise - averaging about 4000 steps a day, which is far shy of the 10,000 minimum I was getting just a few months ago. Gym has to come before couch, every day. It HAS to.

I thought about registering for 12WBT again, but I can't do that for the rest of my life. I have to just do this. Just live. Make wise choices, say no sometimes, say yes sometimes, and EXPERIENCE life. It's hard, but it can be done. It will be done.

You've got to accentuate the positive,

Eliminate the negative,
Latch on to the affirmative...

It's amazing what a difference a change in attitude makes. Dave is home. We have an amazing house to move into. Yes, I'm doing this all on my own, but I AM CAPABLE of doing this all on my own. I have had countless offers of help from friends and family, and I am eternally grateful for all of their support. I'm yet to take anyone up on their offers, but it's good to know that the help is only a phone call away if I need it.

After Dave was released from hospital on Thursday, things in my world started looking better. I spent the evening hatching the game plan for the move, thought it all through, and felt a lot better going to bed. Friday morning, we went to the Real Estate Agents and Dave signed his part of the lease and the rest of the paperwork. We got the keys, and I dropped him at home before heading to the house to complete the inspection. After that, I went to work. I'd had enough time off, and felt ridiculously guilty I put in a few hours there before my boss (who is extremely understanding) decided I'd done enough and sent me home again.

Saturday I followed the plan to a tee, packing and moving a lot of our stuff by the carload. Today I was able to move a little, and even found time to go shopping for a dress for my boss's wedding/the work Xmas party. I was super impressed to walk into City Chic (a big-girl's shop!) and have to buy the XS in a dress. I know their sizing is extremely generous and made to make big girls feel smaller - and all of this psychology worked a treat on me this afternoon! Last year, I weighed the same as I do now, and my dress was a little bigger. Part of the change is the added strength training from the earlier part of this year. Part of it is that I now feel comfortable in figure-hugging clothes.

I'm not going to hide behind layers any more. Bigger isn't always better. I have a waist. I need to embrace it, show it off. Inspire myself to improve my body and my mind so that my strength shines through.

No matter what the world throws at me, I am strong.

Kick me when I'm down.

Go on world, what else do you wanna throw at me?

Tuesday morning, I was woken at 4am with Dave writhing in pain. This continued until 6:30 when the alarm went off and I went to work, without him. He has had this pain in the past, and had ultrasounds, CT scans, a gastroscopy and an MRI - all showed NOTHING. At 9:00, he decided that he couldn't cope anymore, and I left work and took him to the hospital. 4 hours in Emergency, 4 hours in Triage, and an ultrasound later, he was admitted with Gallstones. I left him there overnight, and in the morning we were informed he would be having surgery. I took the following two days off work, and have spent countless hours sat in a (quite comfortable!) hospital chair, only going home to sleep and ducking out to eat. I tried to go to work on Wednesday morning and was promptly sent away (relief!) and called in last night while very teary and explained that I wouldn't be in Thursday.

Dave has had his gall bladder out, and now has the next two weeks off work and the following 6-8 weeks on light duties (no lifting). This is SUPER HELPFUL seeing as we are moving this weekend. Can't wait to do this all on my own :(

Then life throws you a curveball.

This week was going to be the biggest week of my life. And then MORE shit happened.

First of all, this past Thursday was my last ever competitive performance of calisthenics. After 25 years, I am retired. The competition was in Ballarat - a trip my mum and I make each year, staying in a shitty hotel, eating shitty food (always the same things, it's tradition!). This year was different in that it was the first time we had a room to ourselves. Back in the cost-cutting days of childhood, we'd shared a room with two other mother/daughter combos. In later years, one of the girls moved on and it was just myself and my friend and our mothers. Last year, my friend found out at Ballarat that she was pregnant, so this year Mum and I had a room on our own. I was glad, as it was always going to be my last year, and it's awkward to tell someone that you just want to be alone, with your mum, to cry...

The comp was amazing. There are 9 of us retiring this year (out of the team of 17), and it was an emotionally charged day that was filled with tears both happy and sad, and a general appreciation of the sport which has given me so much and made me the person I am today. There were moments when I doubted my decision to give it up, but the endless hours of practice, the pain (I'm old, and have put a lot of strain on my poor knees being big all this time), the time... and the promise of a new life - marriage, babies - really drove it home that this is the time to do it. I drank in EVERY minute on that beautiful stage, in that beautiful theatre, with those beautiful people. There were many tears, many smiles, and much hearty laughter. There was a teeny tiny bit of stress, though, because of a letter we received on Monday.

We got given 120 days notice to 'vacate' our house. It's not an eviction notice, and we've done nothing wrong, but come February 16th, 2014, we can no longer live in this house. 120 days is a really long time - until you factor in what is going on in our lives at that time. We're getting MARRIED ON NEW YEAR'S EVE. We're going on our honeymoon for an entire MONTH from mid January to mid February. So we have to be out before the honeymoon, before the wedding, before Christmas. So now. Yeah, now.

We inspected a property (thankfully managed by the same place that we are currently with) on Wednesday, filled in the application, and got approved on Friday afternoon. So this week, instead of enjoying my free time now that cali is over, I'm packing to move at some point in the next two weeks. The new place is 5 minutes drive from here, and we've worked out that we'll probably be able to move most of our stuff in small trips each night, with a couple of trips in the truck that Dave can get from work for the big items. We're signing the lease on Tuesday (and handing over all our savings - sad face) and should be able to get the keys before next weekend. We've then got to give 2 weeks notice here seeing as we won't be taking the full 120 days to vacate and then we've got that time to move and get this place professionally cleaned. Phew.

So, needless to say, the exercise and diet is going terribly. Not terribly, I still managed an almost 2 hour walk today and have eaten fairly well - but I'm not expecting miracles on the scale in the morning, or for the next few weeks at least. I have completed my shakesperiment (terrible, horrible, can't stick to it and should never have tried to) and re-committed to LnE.

That's my update... More insight will follow as I've just spent 2 weeks reading a blog that has inspired me and my thoughts in the last few days. Hopefully I'll be able to find an hour or so to write about it. Possibly during *shh* work time.

The week that was.

To be brutally honest, it was shit. The positivity that I had last Sunday up and left, and I've been in a funk all week. I've eaten whatever the hell I've wanted, even crammed things in when I felt physically sick. I'm chalking it all up to the visit from my monthly friend that I have been avoiding the past few months (thankyou, hormones in a foil pack!) but really felt like I needed to have.

That's over now, but I'm not sure that the funk is. I'm feeling really anxious about my wedding dress. I ordered it months ago, thankfully not too optimistically - in the size that I was when I tried it on. I only have to lose one inch around my waist (it's the only REALLY fitted part of the dress) and if I squeeze the tape measure, I'm there. I just don't want to turn up at the fitting in a few short weeks and have the dress not fit at all, and I don't know how to reassure myself that everything will be fine. 

My mum has always made clothes for me, or I've had clothes in the cupboard that I want to wear for a specific occasion. Every few weeks, I try them on - see how I'm going, see what changes (if any) will need to be made. I can't in this instance, as the dress won't arrive from the dressmaker until the day before my first fitting. I don't know what the hell I'll do if it doesn't fit, and I'll be devastated if it doesn't. What a waste of money (and a stress to find something that DOES fit).

I dunno what the answer is, but I have to be patient. I cannot do anything until it arrives at the end of November. That's 4 more weeks (5, really) of me pfaffing about. I'm lost...

Sunday Funday?

Depends what you call 'FUN', but I sure had a great day today. I started off laaaaazzzzyyy by getting out of bed at about 10am. We had a 1st birthday party to go to and needed to leave around 11, so we just bummed around on Facebook and such until it was time to go.

I had left my morning shake out on purpose, thinking that if I had a shake just before we left I'd be less likely to eat too much at the party - we were promised party food, soft drink, and a sausage sizzle. And cake. So I shook, and I quite enjoyed it. We got to the party venue to find no-one there. A quick check of my text messages and I realised we were an hour early. Oops!! I suggested going for a short walk just as the heavens opened, so we shelved that idea and stayed in the car playing Candy Crush until it was party time.

I had a sausage - is there anything better than a sausage in fresh white bread with a smothering of tomato sauce? I think no! Before I knew it, it was cake time, and I had a slice. I figured I'd passed up two cakes at work last week, and skipped on all the party food except the sausage, so I was putting all my excuses and reasons in a bag and eating the bloody cake. It was delicious - chocolate mud cake with fondant icing. A few minutes later, I was in a sugar coma...

We got home at about 4, and I got changed and headed to the gym. 90 minutes on the treadmill, with a few running and jogging spurts, and 30 minutes of upper body strength training, and it was time to go home. I mostly stayed at the gym so long because I knew I'd want to eat as soon as I got home, and any time before 6 was not going to bode well for the rest of the evening. Prawn Stir Fry was delicious, once again.

I'd been needing to burn some CDs for cali for a few weeks and really needed to get them done for tomorrow night, but we didn't have any blank ones at home so I had to go back out. I hit Coles and got CDs and suddenly realised there was also a bag of Natural Confectionery Jelly Babies in my hand as well, as I was walking back to the car. I ripped open the packet like the sugar fiend I am, and then realised what I was doing. Checking the label, I found that one serving is 5 babies. 5 babies? Ok, count out 5 and put the rest away. Check. Eat said babies. Check. Eat 5 more. Check. WTF ARE YOU DOING??? STOP!!!

Bag away, I was home. Logged everything into MFP, silent high-5 for the 15k step day according to Fitbit. Silent scolding for lollies, but pat on the back for stopping and not eating the whole packet on the 4 minute drive home. Lollies were nice, and I'm sure I'll appreciate them more each day as I count out 5 and enjoy them in my own time. Sugar free ain't me!

What's the plan for this week? Well, I have a few more days' worth of the 'Rapid' shakes, and to be honest, I'm not as hungry as I was the first few days. I'm going to keep it up, making sure I have ready access to the snack and meal replacement bars at work as well to mix it up a bit. Once the 'Rapid' shakes are gone, there are about 10 days' worth of the 'Trim' shakes and I'm 90% sure I'm going to complete the 17 days. I cannot be as restrictive as the program prescribes, because I'll just throw it all in. I know me. But I will keep at it, continue to make delicious stir fries for dinner, and continue to say no MOST of the time to treats.

I read somewhere that time will pass regardless of how you spend it, so make the most of what you have. I'm not an 'all-in-gung-ho-get-it-done' kinda girl, but I am a 'give-it-your-best-and-get-it-done-most-of-the-time' kinda girl. Right now, that's all I'm asking of myself. It's working, I'm in a positive mindset, and that's fun!