In a new weekly feature, Her.ie newbie Liz is going to share her weight loss journey. She’ll be filling you in on fighting temptation, her willpower struggles with the cocktail menu and taking painfully slow steps towards regular exercise. All in the name of a dress.
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Hanging on the wall at the end of my bed is the constant reminder I plan on shedding nearly two stone this year. I also plan on marking the trials and tribulations of ‘trying to be good’ – the favourite saying we all tout, and quickly replace when a cake is put in front of us.
Week 38: The Power of Three
Nobody warns you that if you’re going to treat your body with disrespect, it can quite literally feel like it’s biting you in the ass when you try to put it through its paces.
I’m preparing you for a slightly moany post now. This is your ‘get out of jail’ card, but I promise there is a happy ending.
I want to start this week by holding up my hands and saying I’m quickly changing into one of those people.
The kind who look at menus for twenty minutes to veto anything that’s had a dribble of butter within sniffing distance of your plate. Or, for once in my life, I’m not trying to hide a stash of chocolates in the corner of my desk.
I’m actually snacking on fruit, and yoghurt, and all the things people are quite happy to brag about ‘pigging out’ on.
See the thing is, my body hates me right now. It’s currently going through DOMs. I didn’t know what a DOM was two weeks ago, so let me break it down for you for all those joining me on the newly paved path to getting fit.
You know when every inch of your body is aching, and you feel like resigning to the fact that a bathtub full of scalding water will be your new home? Well welcome to DOMs. It’s my body’s way of saying,
“You hurt me? I’ll hurt you”
Apparently my body is a schoolyard bully, because I’ve never felt this kind of pain before.
I’m working out in the gym, and despite being told I have weak ankles, I’m now squatting with weights. Real weights. Not my set of dumbbells that look pretty under my bed but serve more as a barrier to the heel avalanche behind.
And while I’m bending, squatting, lunging, and all round pushing myself with weights, I feel like there’s not much point in me eating a cheeseburger, having a ‘treat’ or skipping on the nutrition advice that’s been passed onto me by a real expert.
Thanks to DNA, I can never be Nick Miller.
So alongside my workouts, I was asked to keep a food diary. Unfortunately, I can’t lie. I may as well be the kid with the chocolate ring around my mouth saying I don’t know who ate all the Nutella.
Chances are you’re more than likely to have caught me with my nose in the jar.
So when I was asked to share my week’s worth of eating I laid it bare. ALL OF IT. Even the Nandos and the three vodka sodas that had slipped past my lips on a Saturday night out.
(Personally, I was pretty proud of that. That was a new record for keeping myself in check while still having a sip.)
So sitting across from my trainer, he started breaking down my eating habits.
I don’t need to give you our conversation word for word, but let’s just say, there were whole ‘food-groups’ I’d be subsisting on for quite a while. And he wasn’t impressed. In my defence…
Not even my charm/ attempts at humour could break this one. I was in trouble.
I knew I had been slacking with Weight Watchers, but I had foolishly thought a few extra gym sessions would solve all my problems.
What shocked me more was I was told I wasn’t eating enough. I was eating too little, of the wrong foods, with long gaps in the day.
I mentally started excusing myself for that bag of crisps. Sure wasn’t I starving? It definitely wasn’t my fault that my willpower was blinded by the smell of Hunky Dory.
In that hour long consultation three things were shared with me that I thought were pretty dead on. And because most people don’t think 6am torture training sessions are going to become part of their daily lives, I’m happy to pass on some words of wisdom:
- If you can’t name the five stages the food took from its natural state to your plate, it’s probably not nutritionally going to benefit you.
- Your brain takes up to 900 calories to function on a daily basis. If you starve yourself, or eat less than a recommended allowance, you’re giving your body roughly 3-400 calories to carry out ALL of its physical tasks. (Suddenly that 4pm slump isn’t such a mystery)
And finally…
- I wouldn’t run while eating a slice of cake. (Ok, I might try) So why would I spend so much time and energy going to the gym, setting out for walks, or attempting to jog, if I’m just going to fill-up on all the wrong foods?
I’m not going to lie. I was devastated to say goodbye to a few of my favourites. Bon voyage bread, farewell fromage… it was my utmost pleasure knowing you. But I’ve got a body to tone and I don’t need any delicious distractions getting in my way.
So I’ve started making four meals a day (I know, four, and I’m still not getting fat!) and they’re all pretty tasty (even though it’s all clean eating).
I’m typing this having just demolished a meal of salmon (with homemade dressing) , sweet potato and carrot mash, roasted vegetables, and a juicy tomato side salad.
Sound good? It didn’t look too bad either.
And because it kept my body fuelled, I already know I’m going to have the energy to go out for a jog in the morning.
It should go better than the first venture. Where the luminous jacket quite literally made a man JUMP when he saw me trot past him on the road. I even made 3k that night. I might have been known to move faster for a slice of lemon meringue pie, but I still was moving. And I felt the better for it.
And this week, I lost 3lbs.
Three is the magic number, and this week just went to prove that. In a sweaty (but pretty satisfying) way.
This week’s stats look a little something like this…
Height: 5ft 8
Starting Weight: 174 lbs
Current Weight: 161.5 lbs
Weight Loss To Date: 16.5 lb
Goal: 148 lbs
Feeling: In a LOT of pain
The Dress in Question… NOW FITS!!
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