Thursday, July 08, 2010
I've been on my Spark People journey 2 years now. I lost 30 pounds but gained it all back until I weighed more than I had when I set out. It's a familiar story.
But I'm on the way down again now (15lbs lost: 30lbs to go.)
A few months ago, I realised I had to make dieting into a more fun project. So I decided to try out a few different diets - a week here, and a week there. See if one stuck.
I began with Atkins. Bacon and eggs, home made ice cream, mayonnaise with everything. Yum. I tested my wee for ketones as advised, using little strips I bought from the chemist. I become mildly ketonic. That was quite exciting. But I only stuck the diet for ten days, simply because it was so far from my normal way of eating. I felt I was on a tightrope the whole time, afraid to look down. There seemed a long way to fall.
Next came the Dukan, a similar diet only lower fat. Fish, meat and then more fish and meat (and especially chicken breast). I would start the day ok (with a kipper) but by the time the evening meal arrived, I would be nauseous and headachey. One evening I looked at the sirloin steak on my plate and felt sad that an animal had died to provide me with a meal that turned my stomach. I had to stop.
Also, despite a month on Atkins/Dukan, I'd only lost 4 lbs. I'd be pleased with that in normal circumstances, but the nausea and headaches seemed too high a price to pay.
Cutting carbs still seemed a good idea. I remembered a review I'd read on Amazon before ordering the Dukan book. It was for the Carb Addicts diet. It seemed to chime with the GI Diet, another blast from the past, and a diet my mother had used to talk about. I ordered it.
While I was waiting it to arrive I picked up another book in a charity shop, The Zone, thinking it could plug the gap until Carb Addicts arrived. An SP friend has always sworn by it, but I'd been put off by its technical sounding instructions.
That was three weeks ago. Although Carb Addicts has now arrived and been read, I've put it 'behind my ear' for later because The Zone has grown and grown on me.
Barry Sears' programme is out of fashion these days, but it works on the principle of eating a little more protein and fat than most dieters are used to and a lot fewer carbs. It isn't extreme. And yet I rarely feel hungry and the cravings for bread and cakes are gone. And In the first fortnight I've lost 2lbs a week - a miracle for someone in the menopause, who has been dieting on and off for 40 years. I'm able to eat my beloved fruit and veg (ok, not all of them - bananas and potatoes are frowned on) and have a small glass of wine and a piece of cheese as a snack.
So I think I'll stick with it for now.
As a dieter, I've often been a little cowed, a little prone to thinking it's my fault if a diet doesn't work. But this has made me think - perhaps it's worth shopping around for a regime that really really suits us.
It's early days. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
As a teenager at New Year, I would take all the chocolates and sweets I had been given over Christmas and put them in a big tin, then tape the tin up with yards and yards of sellotape or duct tape. Then it went into the bottom of my wardrobe. I have memories of New Years' Eve parties where I closed my eyes amidst all the merrymaking and solemnly vowed, at the last stroke of midnight, that this would be the year I lost weight for good.
Looking back, I see I obviously didn't QUITE want to let go of those chocs... but was foxed about how to integrate them into a healthy-eating lifestyle. Plus ca change eh? Reminds me of whoever it was, Theseus or Perseus, asking his crewmates to tie him to the mast of the ship so he could hear the Sirens beautiful song but still get away.
But this year my resolution is to be gentle and patient with myself and others as much as I possibly can. I hope there'll be a knock on effect on the health/running/weight - I sense that the less punitive I am about things, the part of me that wants to be healthy and the part that wants to slob might make better friends with each other... then perhaps I might not need to tape the tin up so tightly.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Well, New Year seems a good time to start running again. I used to run years ago, though never more than 5 miles in one go, and it was the only time in my 50 years on this planet so far when I've been able to eat what I liked and not gain weight! Imagine how fab that is. Also imagine the problems when one stops running. I've had 4 major bouts of it in my life so far, all lasting approximately a year, and they all ended due to injury (knee or hip or both).
I now discover, much to my excitement, that walk/jog is a great way to avoid injury! I'm also planning to run on grass or track whenever I can, not just the road, as that will help too.
So, here goes.
I go out on my first session full of trepidation (the memory of injury is off-putting). I've squeezed into TWO sports bras, one on top of the other (I'm a 'G' cup) and feel like I can hardly breathe! Also it's 'persisting' down with rain and as I walk out of the shelter of my street, a bitter wind hits me in the face. Oh well, better get jogging, then.
During the first minute of running, I can hardly believe I'm actually doing it. I hold my breath (a mistake) with the sheer novelty of it all. As I slow down for the walking bit, I am gasping for air. The second time around, the running minute is much better and I begin to feel a sense of moral superiority to all the other people in the park who are dressed in full weatherproof regalia while I just have on a sweatshirt, scarf and jogging bottoms. On the fourth minute, jogging across the rugby pitch, I start singing 'Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head.' I feel fantastic.
I am under the ilusion that the programme said run for 5 minutes in total. Smugly, I manage 6. When I get home and look at the prog again, it says I should have done 7.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Lifestyle change strategy 5 asks us what our triggers are for emotional eating.
Well, I know one of reasons I tend to graze in the evening is that I've always been a little afraid of the dark, going to bed and going to sleep.
It feels a bit pathetic admitting this - especially as I am 50 in three days' time!
I don't know whether this is a general fear or one specific to me - my Mum got carted off to hospital several times in the middle of the night when I was little. I did once or twice, too.
But it still feels as though a piece of chocolate, or some crisps, or a few biscuits are a magic charm, that might keep me safe until morning.
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