This week has been an odd one, a mixed bag of dieting and fitness emotions that I think only, perhaps, women like me that struggle with weight can really get their heads round. If I was a 45 year old man, ( Surrey business owner, reasonably grown up kids) I think it would perfectly acceptable for me to be greying and carrying the portly waistline of an expense account bon-viveur.
I am not though. I am 45 year old 'spinster of this parish' in a county of well maintained, SLK driving '50 is the new 40' hotties.
So this week although the diet and fitness have gone brilliantly I still need to examine why my confidence is rocked so badly by my appearance and how to go a bit easier on myself.
Starting Stats
Bust 47"
Waist 40"
Hips 43"
Weighing in at 13 stone 6lbs
Week 4 Stats
Bust 44 3/4"
Waist 37"
Hips 42 1/4"
Weighing in at 12 stone 13lbs 8oz (ie I lost half a pound)
Total weight loss 6 1/2lbs
So training last Thursday, a run on Sunday, training Monday evening and Tuesday morning is properly impacting on the stats. Hence my record of measurements as it is a rather tiresome fact that as you burn fat and develop lean muscle you occupy less space but sometimes don't see the dramatic weight drop.
I am happy with being able to run again - albeit not as far or as fast. Whilst googling for a Caitlin Moran quote - (why the hell do I lend my favourite books out and never get them back btw) about how running was like sex I chanced across another blog
Run Fat Bitch Run and fell upon this -
"Caitlin Moran’s brilliantly funny column in the Times magazine on Saturday is on the same page. She too is a working mum, who just wants to fit into her size 12 clothes - I bet she doesn’t give a shit about her bingo wings (sorry Caitlin if you don’t in fact have them or do, and care very much). She doesn’t have the time to consider that if she had done 7minutes of strength training with weights at the gym beforehand she would have burnt off more calories on her four mile jog! She wants as many endorphins as she can get in the shortest possible time and she knows that running is the answer. For many of us ordinary women who don’t have the time or money to devote to muscle sculpture, let alone afford gym membership, strength and resistance training is something we cannot afford to waste time faffing over. "
Effectively my point - now I have battled my fitness up to running capacity - I should be able to run more, further, faster, longer and with each stride drop weight quicker and feel better emotionally. It is, when you are ready, better for good mental health than anything else I know.
The T Shirt I am ordering ...
And whilst I am on the subject of Caitlin Moran, quotes and clothes this really sums up what want wrong with my week end and why my much anticipated love-in was an unmitigated disaster
“When a woman says, ‘I have nothing to wear!’, what she really means is, ‘There’s nothing here for who I’m supposed to be today.”
―
Caitlin Moran,
How To Be A Woman
I was expecting to be whisked away to Brighton on Saturday for a (surprise) romantic but probably fun and silly night out. Brighton is great because although it is jam packed with cool, green, trendy, student, gay fantastic-ness it is also accepting of end of the pier day-trippers and less than cool people that want to eat fish and chips and look at the sea.
I packed accordingly from my very limited, middle-age clothes that fit. I packed Saturday morning before work and thought no more. As the lovely Marshy came to collect me I found out about the change of plan. It was now London. I was immediately downcast. I wanted salt air and casual.
Perhaps only girls can understand this and hence why the Caitlin quote has such resonance. I had nothing to wear for what I suppose or believe London wants me to be. It got worse - when it should have got better. We were booked in at
The Dean Street Townhouse . It is lovely, truly beautiful. The location is perfect for a hip, urban night out - had I known on Thursday or even Friday that this was where we going I could have ransacked everyone I know's wardrobes plus every shop in Guildford. I could have dressed for who I was supposed to be. What I arrived in was a pair of my daughter's leggings, a jumper a bought at Christmas when I peaked weight-wise, a pair of boots with the sole coming away and a fake fur coat too short to hide the jumper.
I felt hideous, fat, old, unfashionable - generally foul. Whatever I did and however I tried I just felt worse and worse. So a room service dinner and an early morning exit was the result. Lots of money wasted with the additional guilt burden that I ruined Marshy's weekend.
I dispense advice daily about body confidence and clothes. I agree, I need to take some of my own advice here. I have punished myself for being fat with a bad wardrobe, I have put new purchases on hold until I have lost a few pounds. I know that with a good frock, hair and make up I can rock 13 stone as well as I can 9!
I will not endanger my relationship with this again - providing I'm given a bloody clue where we are going!
