"but...how did you do it?"

For how ever long I was trying to lose weight, I would always look at people who had lost weight and wonder how on earth they did it. Did they find a machine that they found easy to use, did they find a diet that really suited them, did they wake up one day and suddenly they'd just shedded the kgs. I would even ask them 'how did you do it' like they possessed the magical key to the universe of weight loss, a key that maybe I could possess and open a door to my own mystical weight loss universe.

(this is an image google found me when I searched 'key to universe')

But as far as I'm concerned, there isn't a mystical universe or a magical key. Whenever I did ask these people their response would generally be that they went to the gym, started eating balanced meals, started controlling their portions and so on.

So the truth of the matter is (and this is wholly my subjective opinion, whether you agree or not is up to you) losing weight and getting fit is fucking hard work. Don't believe anyone that ever says its easy. Don't believe anyone that looks nonchalant about their weight loss. Just don't! It takes time, it takes all the commitment, it takes energy, it takes sacrifice and at times it can suck. But you know what, once you start to feel healthier, once your body starts to function better, once you wake up with more energy and once you start to see the change in your body it's more than worth it.

So in my opinion, there is no magical diet, no amazing life changing gym class or incredible machine that will help you lose weight. You will have to be dedicated and it will be hard work but you'll be rewarded for all your effort in the end.

This epiphany occurred to me while I was jogging home today thinking 'fuck this is hard work'.

 

(didn't post it on Facebook...at least it's on my blog!)

Setting goals (screw you S.M.A.R.T)

After I started training, Paul introduced the idea of setting goals to me. I've never been much of a goal setter more of a go-with-the-flow-er but in abiding by my 'listen to everything Paul has to say' rules, I came up with ideas around what my goals would be.

I started to work on some ideas about what I would like to achieve along the lines of losing weight, being able to look pregnant when pregnant (so I can walk down the street and force strangers to rub my belly like a mad woman), having a sport I enjoy and feeling/looking good. So I revisited the idea of writing goals that a S.M.A.R.T (hooray 5 years of study has paid off!).

My first goal was around weight. This meant I'd aim for a specific weight (70kgs),weighing myself every Sunday morning and achieving this over a period of approximately a year. I would do so by training 4-5 times a week and eating well (I can't be bothered checking whether that meets the stringent S.M.A.R.T criteria...but you get the idea!)

Instead of going through all my goals according to S.M.A.R.T (mainly coz I'm concerned my goals aren't S.M.A.R.T at all but more importantly if I have to type S.M.A.R.T one more time, I might go mental!) I'll tell you how I wrote my goals.

Basically I came up with a goal and then wrote it as if it had happened and described how I felt at the point my goal had been achieved. They go a little something like this:

I weigh 70kgs and I have never felt so good. My body is functioning amazingly and I'm full of energy. I love exercising four times a week because it makes me feel fit and healthy. When I look in the mirror I hardly recognise my own body. People comment on how good I look which makes me feel great because they can see how hard I've worked. I feel like I can achieve anything I put my mind to.

and

I box 3 times a week and I have enough skill and confidence to be able to fight. I am so happy I have found a sport that I enjoy and want to pursue. I love that I can participate in a sport that I am good at while also being able to continue to improve. I have made great friends through boxing and look forward to going to classes.

and

I fit into size 12 jeans and I'm so excited I might explode. When I look in the mirror I can't believe it's me I'm looking back at. I'm so proud of myself for all the hard work I have done.

These are just a vague idea of what my goals were. I wrote them out, stuck them next to my bed and read them every night before I go to sleep and every morning before I get out of bed.

In retrospect, maybe there isn't a lot of S.M.A.R.T elements to this goal setting method but it certainly helped me...i think it might have something to do with being able to visualise the end result OR maybe it's boiling it back to accountability and solidifying a goal on a piece of paper where you mixed in some emotion makes you feel like you have to work towards it.

Whatever it is I recon it's worth a try!

In other news, I'm addicted to drawing inspiration from Rocky (even tho I've only seen the first film where you don't get to see much boxing). Here is a cheesy quote to get the motivation flowing...

Tune in next time for some photo evidence that justifies why I love eating well and exercising.

Sal's hot tips!

I've been thinking a lot (this seems to consume a massive amount of energy for me, must think less, my iron is low!) about what it is that motivated me to lose weight and continue to exercise and eat well over the past chunk of time.

 

It certainly isn't like you just wake up one day and have boundless amounts of energy and the motivation to eat well all day everyday. I still have to talk myself into exercise but not like I used to. The initial stages of getting into exercise are the hardest. I remember Paul coming over to exercise with me one time and I knew we would be walking up Awaba in Mosman. On the way up I had to stop at every street to catch my breath and felt overwhelmed with anxiety about going up the next steep incline. We eventually got to the top and Paul started to walk down again. He just smiled and said 'we're going to do it again' and all I could do was burst into tears. (The image below doesn't do Awaba Street justice. You really don't know what it’s like til you've walked up it! It's like being tortured by choice and once you commit there's no going back!)

 

I've tried to think of big words that would describe what helped me along the weight loss/get fit path but I can't think of enough to describe what was useful so instead I'll just describe what I found useful...and maybe the big words will flow from there (I got a university degree how?!).

Keep a food diary. I found this incredibly useful for a number of reasons. I was embarrassed when it was full of terribly bad food and I knew I'd have to show Cind. It helped me correct things that I was doing slightly wrong or very wrong. It helped identify bad habits (not eating breakfast then eating a mars bar and the like). Try the app mynetdiary (this is what I use and find it REALLY helps).

Weigh yourself once a week. This also worked for me on loads of levels. I would weigh myself (still do) every Sunday morning which would mean I wouldn't go on a wild food bender on Satty night as some kind of reward for it being the weekend. I would ensure I ate well so I'd get good result on the scales. It was easy to measure if I was weighing myself once a week. It was measurable!

Have someone who you feel accountable to. This worked very well for me. I knew I had to turn up to training coz Paul and Cind were giving up their time to help me. I could tell them my secrets, my failures, my successes-everything. I would message Paul my weight every Sunday and I would show Cind my food diary once a week.

Tell people (or EVERYONE) you're trying to lose weight. Sometimes people find this one hard. I found this one easy. I knew what I could and couldn't do (somewhat straight forward: don't eat large bigmac meal, do exercise). People are incredibly supportive and helpful and will understand why you are being irritably fussy when you're going out for dinner (or not going out for dinner at all). Mum and Pete were helpful with this part (Pete is still worried I'm starving myself of all that is delicious) and would ensure there was plenty of salad on the table and friends would be happy to go to restaurants that met my needs. This also means that you are accountable to a lot (why isn't 'alot' a word? I think it should be!) of people so when you've announced to the universe that you are on a diet you might re-think eating that tub of ice cream).

Get inspired by other people’s success. I had seen friend lose large amounts of weight and was so inspired by their efforts I wanted to do the same. I’d ask them for their hot tips and they'd happily give out advice! Humans are so cool - I've seen people achieve things beyond belief!

Get excited about results! Every time I lost weight, I'd message Paul in excitement and I always got a message back that went something like 'oooohhhhh shhhiiittt. Proud of you Sal'. These kinds of messages did wonders for motivation (especially mid week when I may be tempted by a whole chocolate cake). Tell everyone what you've achieved, that’s what I did!

Write goals. Paul gave me a book to read for bodybuilders called 'Build muscle, lose fat' and although I didn't want to achieve a body (such as that pictured below) it did have a really good method on goal setting.

 

 

The idea was rather than writing a goal like 'to weight 65kgs' you'd write a goal in a positive affirmation with emotions attached (which we'll explore more in a future blog) so this goal would morph into something like 'I weigh 65kgs and I'm the lightest I've weighed in my adult life. When I look in the mirror I hardly recognise myself. I feel fit, healthy and energised. I am so proud of what I have achieved.' or something of the like. I stuck these goals next to my bed and would read them to myself in the morning and at night.

Reward yourself when you achieve results. This is a key one that needs to NOT involve a food reward. When I first started training I was a poor student so would reward myself with a new dress. It also worked as a double reward coz I'd be buying clothes that were smaller sizes.

Be aware of how you feel. I noticed that generally I felt lighter and healthier. My skin became clearer and I had more energy. I often remind myself to be more conscious about how my body feels after exercise, how my body felt after I ate and the positive always outweighed the negative and this was another good motivator! I also decided that I NEVER wanted to be as sick as I was when I had glandular fever so this was another reason to take care of myself. Here are some photos I keep as a reminder of how sick I was (I had an allergic reaction to pencillin which caused my legs to go this way) and how sick I never want to be again.

 

So that sums up my hot tips. Unfortunately those big words I was initially searching for didn't come to me but I hope this breaks things down well enough.

Battle of the binge!

One day I was researching something for a client and came across information about binge eating disorders and it hit a nerve.

According to definitions, my eating has been pretty symptomatic of a binge eating disorder which can be characterised as (courtesy of reachout.com):

feeling that your eating is out of control

eating what most people would consider to be a large or excess amount of food on a regular basis

eating to the point of feeling uncomfortable

eating large amounts of food, even when you are not really hungry

being secretive about what is eaten and when

being embarrassed by the amount of food eaten

feeling disgusted, depressed or guilty about overeating.

I also feel like I have a tendency towards addiction. I find when it comes to food (and alcohol) I act a lot on compulsion and without thought. I'd find myself thinking 'HOLY SHIT! I'm not actually sure how to stop eating'.

All these problems came to a head when I got back from India. There was so much food I was looking forward to eating (I can't tell you how much I missed dried fruit...of all things?!), so much alcohol I'd missed out on drinking (which I consumed enough of in Goa but apparently it wasn't), so much exercise I could do that would justify the eating and drinking I'd be doing (remind me to tell you about the circuits I used to do in our 30 degree room with no fan, my poor room mate)! Well, apparently not! There wasn't enough exercise I could possibly do that would make up for the drinking and eating I was about to get up to! I started to develop fantastic skills when it came to training with a hangover, it's a fine art I'm happy to say I perfected then stopped ('Thanks Sal' -Your liver).

I've never come back from being away and been so miserable. My poor Mum met me at the airport, so excited to have me home and all I could do was cry miserable tears.

Adjusting to being home, no longer being in a relationship and getting back in to the swing of things started all kinds of bad habits. I was drinking until I was sick every weekend (BIG Thanks to everyone who tolerated my crazy antics during this time - spew, tears and all..you know who you are- I loves ya!), I was eating whatever I felt like (I'm pretty sure I personally financed the CEO of Allens lollies income for a while there!), I was eating how ever much I felt like and I seemed to have lost all motivation and control that i had before I'd left for India.

Only in the past month or so (more than a year since I left for India) have I started to feel in control again. Balance is something that I find really difficult. I decided that I would use as many resources as possible to reinstate some kind of stability in my life.

At the moment, I use an app on my phone to document everything I eat and drink, I record my workouts on a watch that measures the intensity of my work out (as well as calories burnt and heart rate), I keep a diary and now I'm writing this blog.

These are helping somewhat but I still struggle with feelings of guilt and reward around food...

I'm trying to narrow down what it was that worked so well when I initially started training with Paul and Cind. Stay tuned for what I've narrowed it down to!

Eating, Boxing, Sleeping, Boxing, Boxing, Boxing, Boxing!

As I mentioned before, I've started going to amateur boxing class. Starting this was no easy feat. Although I've been going to fitness boxing classes for some time now, walking into an amateur boxing class with fitness boxing skills only really helps a little bit.

Admittedly (and I conjured up all these feelings in my head) for the first time I felt disadvantaged my my gender. The majority of the class is made up of men most of which have fights under their belt. Who on earth am I to walk into this class?! So the first class I hid for the majority of the time in the bathroom then didn't acknowledge anyone and just punched the bag for 5 rounds and ran out again (are these traits indicative of some kind of personality disorder?...should I be unveiling these on the Internet?). The second class (I say class, I wasn't really participating in the class, I was sidling in while pretending I wasn't actually there, wasn't I!) went much the same. I sent my brother an essay (via text msg, the most convenient way to send essays) about my insecurities/anxiety/madness and once again his wise words of encouragement pushed me to talk to the class trainer on a personal level because the trainer is quite shy. Huh!? I thought I was the shy one! So 'continue I shall' I thought to my bruised ego.

The third class however, I ran into another girl that goes to the fitness class (giant exhale of anxious relief into the universe of exercise) and although she and I have never really crossed paths before, we were able to partner up and do a bit of touch sparring and I'm now (internally) eternally grateful to her because her bold, confident personality has allowed me to be able to talk to the trainer and be part of the class, rather than standing on the outskirts.

I've now met some really cool people and my initial anxieties are fading (gradually). For motivation I've been watching women do gloriously strong things. I've been watching this on repeat...what incredible women!

In reflection, it was never about gender, because everyone in the class has shown me that its not about gender, its about showing up, giving it a try and being open.

White Girl in the Ring Tra-la-la-la-la

I've been boxing (and I use the term 'boxing' loosely) since I started my fitness journey (I know everyone tries to avoid the word journey but it’s just so fitting. Alternatives include: path, process, experience, adventure - none of which seem to convey what I'm trying to say...journey it is!).

My brother, who is an incredible athlete, poured his heart into boxing for some time (cough *11 fights undefeated* cough *state champion* cough) decided the best way he would help me gain my fitness/lose weight/improve my health would be to teach me to box. The process started slowly with a little boxing here and there.

I fell in love with boxing for fitness. And I had an incredible instructor. After a while, I was even developing some technique/skill. I slowly found myself watching boxing films, documentaries and whatever else I could get my hands on. For the first time in my life I enjoyed a sport and felt like I was alright at it (or so I thought).

Now I'd never really been to a gym or fitness class before and those of you who are unfit or over-weight will know how intimidating something like this can be. It had come to a time where my fitness was at a stage that I could do exercise a bit more independently. My brother (did I mention how incredibly supportive he's been...I get overwhelmed by everything he's done for me and have to send him lengthy grateful text messages every 3 or so weeks) came along to the first class with me so I 'd feel confident in the class. I certainly wouldn't have gone if he hadn't gone along with me that first time.

So then it came to going to the class on my own. I'd been to uni that day. I remember coming home and climbing in to bed and being overwhelmed by anxiety. It sounds ridiculous but I felt paralysed by the thought of going to the class without Paul and letting all these strangers see how unfit I was. When I had just about decided that I couldn't go to the class, Mum walked past my door and I burst into tears. She was lovely and supportive (as she always is, all gloriously and British and full of kind, calm words) and convinced me that it would be ok.

I pulled myself together and headed off to class. The girls at the door remembered me for being Paul's sister and greeted me with big smiles and the trainer running the class made sure I had a partner that would help me through the class. One class and I was hooked.

I still go to the classes 2 years on. It now has a new trainer, but the same friendly faces are still around and I still love the class as much as I did when I first walked in with my brother. But it got me thinking...if I love a sport this much, why not try and become the best at it that I possibly can. I told the trainer I wanted to spar and am now going to the same amateur boxing classes Paul used to and although it's all very new I'm very excited about boxing as much as possible.

And so it begun..

It was around 2 years ago. I sat on the floor of my bedroom, crying uncontrollably. I knew something had to change. I'd been insanely sick with glandular fever, and feeling depressed and anxious I knew I had to reach out to someone and ask for help. I couldn't convince myself that I was happy being a 'big' girl anymore. I weighed over 100kgs, had no idea of healthy balanced eating habits and did little or no exercise. I couldn't hide my sadness any more.

I decided to send a message to my brother and his ex-wife. They're both keen exercisers with personal training experience. I remember writing the message and being so anxious about sending it I deliberately left my phone at home so I didn't keep checking my phone to see if they'd replied. I wrote something to the tune of "Paul and Cind, I need your help. I'm so unhappy with my body and lifestyle. I'm incredibly depressed. Please help!" and that they did.

I received replies of whole-hearted support. They both committed to train with me and support me to help me gain health and fitness while losing weight. I knew that if I was going to do this, I'd have to listen to all the advice they had to offer, be open and honest with them and do my very best to make them proud.

It started with exercising with either of them 3-4 times a week. During this time we'd talk about goals, healthy food habits, keeping food diaries, bad habits that I had..it was an opportunity to explore and understand my relationship with food, my relationship with my body and my relationship with my self esteem.

I would talk to one of them about different things. I would talk about being teased for being over weight, about finding exercise difficult, about achievements, about failures. I would sweat, cry, yell and complain and they stood by me through the whole process. I enjoyed varied workouts with Cind while Paul taught me all he knew (which was a lot) about boxing (which I gained a huge passion for).

Now 28 kg lighter, I am eternally grateful. I have a new lease on life. Exercise is my hobby (I never thought I would say that) and I enjoy a sport so much that I would do it everyday if I could. Paul and I have now stopped training together (a sad conclusion for me as we have become so close through this experience) and I have applied to a training course (certainly never thought I'd do that!) in the hope that I can offer people the same experience that Paul and Cind gave me.

 

So I now recognise that I've moved into the next phase of my fitness journey and although I haven't satisfied my fitness/weight loss goals (I'd quite like to fight, I'd quite like to lose another 10kgs), I know what can be achieved and I know what is out there and I endeavour to share the next part of this journey with you all.