So WeightWatchers is pretty good…..

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Just a wee short post, moreso to reassure those who take an interest that I haven’t fallen off the wagon, again! Three weeks of WeightWatchers has resulted in a loss of half a stone. Granted, it’s not a startling amount, but it has been consistent – weightloss each week, albeit small. It has been very pleasant too! The Filling and Healthy plan is fabulous, with the unlimited bread (calorie controlled brown of course) and unlimited skimmed milk playing a big part! Admittedly, you have to ditch white rice and pasta, but I haven’t missed them. All told, WeightWatchers is incredibly convenient, satisfying, and still leaves room to be ‘naughty’ during the week with 49 points to play with. The change has been so much better than a rest, and hopefully the losses continue up until Christmas Eve!

Week One: 16st 2lb

Week Three: 15st 9lb

Until the 24th,

McCooey

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Perspective

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It’s been a long time since I wrote a blog. I was tempted to go back and check the date of the last post, but that would involve rereading it, and I really don’t want to do that. I don’t even know why I feel the need to resurrect the blog, aside from the slight pangs of guilt I get when I get a new follower, or when I get comments full of admiration and positivity from people who only know me from the words I wrote when I thought I knew what the fuck I was doing with my life. Yeah! That kinda tells you all you need to know!

I don’t run anymore, and I miss it. I’m not skinny anymore, and I miss that even more. This time two years ago, I was recovering from a slight hangover after celebrating a friends wedding the day before. I remember getting dressed in the hotel room and my clothes felt tight on me. I felt uncomfortable all day. And that’s when everything went tits up. I had decided in some irrational and warped way that I had messed everything up. That, despite having run 26 miles three weeks beforehand, I felt that I was fat and unfit and that all my hard work had been undone. The next week was my grandmothers 90th birthday, and I remember not wanting to leave the kitchen because I feared people noticing that I had gained weight.

In reality, I had gained seven pounds, most of which was more than likely still lying in my stomach from the wedding and the hangover food the next day. But by that time, numbers were all that mattered and I couldn’t see anything past that. Without realising it, numbers became an unhealthy preoccupation early on in the slimming journey; but because the numbers were getting smaller, it was fun to keep my eye on them. However, when it becomes the norm to weigh yourself three times a day, maybe it wasn’t the best idea in the world. November rolled into Christmas, and I managed to get rid of that 7 pound gain before Christmas Eve – thankfully! But I still felt fat.

I have always felt fat. Even at my lightest. In the recent past, I’ve read over some of my old blog posts, and it seems to me now that this has been less of a weight loss blog and more of a mental health blog. The rantings about hitting twelve stone, the nit-picking over running times etc – talk about getting things out of perspective. So for all of 2013, and a fair portion of this year, I have been swaying between being on plan and crashing spectacularly off plan. In those two years, I’ve gained three stone. When I started training for the marathon, I had to embrace food as fuel; but had spent the previous 12 months being very regimented on the Slimming World Original plan (low carb essentially). I didn’t know what to do, how to adapt to the change, and that’s when the uncertainty crept in. I started taking irrational measures to maintain my weight, a theme that continued into this year. These irrational measures achieved nothing apart from cementing my difficult relationship with food and with my own self esteem, and putting my health at risk. And all because I can’t stand what I see in the mirror.

January of this year was when everything came to a head. I spent some time after this having mental health sessions after a referral from my GP. Not counselling as such, but just some chats to figure out why I’ve been flitting between bouts of depression and sadness since I was about 14. Turns out the only thing that’s wrong with me is ‘chronic low self esteem’. Negative self talk, beating myself up mentally, low self-worth, that kind of stuff. The medicine? Positive affirmations, becoming aware of negative self-talk, speaking positively about myself, generally giving myself a break. I would say that, ten months on, I’m giving myself more of a break than I used to. I’m realising that nobody really gives a fuck what weight I am; people have their own stuff to worry about. I’m not 21 stone anymore. It’s been 5 years since I was that weight. But I am 16 stone, and I don’t want to look the way I do now. I want to look how I did a couple of years ago, except I want to look happy too. The constant worrying about food, diet, looks and image tired me out beyond belief, and continues to do so. Hopefully I find a happy level, regardless of the numbers.

I’m sorry I don’t blog very much anymore, but I would have felt like a fraud. I had nothing good to say. I’m starting a new healthy eating plan tomorrow, and hopefully I’ll have something good to write about this time next week. I have never been short of love and support in my life, and I am so grateful to those who gave me that in spades; even when I was the most difficult bastard to be with. Please God I’ll start to see myself the way some others do, and then I can start to be content. So the thought for the day is: Give yourself a break once in a while. Your mistakes will bring you to where you need to be.

Bye bye

McCooey

21 Pounds / Starting all Over

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So. Here we are again.

Another Monday awash with good intentions and unrealistic optimism for the week ahead. My posts of a year ago tell me that I was 12st 7lb (average) back then – and rather less delighted about it than I should have been. I’m much less delighted now as my hulking mass of 14 stone stares guiltily at the screen in front, and I can feel every pound of my gain spilling uncomfortably out of my clothes. I’ve had to go up a jeans size, and even at that – things are more snug than they ought to be. This is the first time since 2009 I have experienced any sustained weight gain, and I’m not fucking happy about it. But who’s to blame? Nobody but me. Yet again, piles of reasons but no excuse. I just don’t have that fanatical discipline, the desire to whip up new dishes, the effortless determination that I had when I started Slimming World. The longing to be thin and toned is still there, but I seem to be sub-consciously avoiding any and all steps to logically achieving this. The ‘bad’ foods addiction is well and truly gripping me, and I can’t seem to break the spell.

 

It’s all so dramatic this, isn’t it? Any rational person would just shut the fuck up and get on with it. Not saying I’m totally irrational, but my behaviour at the minute in terms of nutrition is anything but sensible. The change? Life has changed totally. From 2008 until March of this year, I spent my days working in a job that I didn’t particularly enjoy, that didn’t engage me, and afforded me time to concentrate on food and on exercise. Now, I have my own business – a fucking food business. Probably not the smartest move for a fat bastard, but the only move I ever wanted to make in terms of a career. It’s great though, and I’m enjoying it, but it’s like a heroin addict setting up a needle store. It is literally wall to wall temptation. Scones, cakes, traybakes, chocolate, ice cream…..and that’s just the sweet stuff. I also stock an impressive butchers sausage, best eaten with bbq sauce and melted cheese. Proper bread. Floury baps. The works. A 21 pound gain probably isn’t that bad all things considered, but still. For all the naughty deliciousness, I also have healthy alternatives. All my soups are syn-free, as is my stew. I have free flowing baked potatoes and salad! Do I want to eat them? Do I fuck! Do I want to be a tubby bastard though? No.

Another big change is the amount of free time I have now. I don’t really have a great deal. Typically, I am working a six day week which means around 70 hours a week, usually more. Then again, if I was more disciplined and organised, I would probably be working less. Eitherway, after a 12 hour day, the last thing I feel like doing is getting changed and going for a run. Plus, after almost a year off from running long distances, I’m scared to try. It’ll feel like starting all over, but that’s because I would be! Having said that, pain is temporary, and at least now I know what to expect. I need to feel the fear and do it anyway. Lolz at that. It’s not like I haven’t been trying to get my shit together – I have. I’m back into the old ‘start Monday’ mindset. To be fair, I think I deserve my indulgences. I’m not a drinker, or a big smoker, and I don’t do drugs – food is my way of rewarding myself for work done, for celebrating, for consoling, for comfort. I just have to re-realise and re-accept that I can’t be trusted to limit my indulgences.

 

So after all that, what’s happening? Well, it’s Monday, and I have ‘started again’ again. It’s roughly nine weeks til my birthday, and I’d very much like to be 12st 7lb again for then. I need to lose 21 pounds in those nine weeks – an average of just over 2lb per week. It’s not just about numbers though, and simple arithmetic is only simple on paper. Challenge 2: Run a half-marathon on Boxing Day. Why Boxing Day? Why not. It would be too much to run it on my birthday, and I can’t be coping with unrealistic targets at the minute! So I’m choosing to run the day after the biggest carb-loading day/week of the year – it actually makes sense! I downloaded a Half Marathon app and I’m going to follow it up until the event date. Hopefully I stick to my word instead of throwing it at my arse along with everything else. Sad face.

 

Anyway, hope you’re all keeping well, sorry I am a shitty blogger these days – there’s loads of comments I have to moderate etc, but I’m such a lazy hoor. Sorry again! Give us a wee comment sure, who knows, I might even answer!

 

Blogging for Business

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So I’m still not blogging regularly. I’m not twelve stone. Bla bla.

In PositiveLand however, all is not lost. I have joined a gym again. I have gone back to Slimming World. I’ve lost 5 and a half pounds. And I’m blogging again, but not for fun/as a hobby; blogging to promote my business. Have a look, let me know what you think, and I’ll get back to talking about German Biscuits and M&S knickers at some stage.

http://mccooeysnewry.wordpress.com

Toodles!

One Year On

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Exactly one year ago today, I said farewell to Slimming World and embarked upon Operation Marathon. In this past year I have:

Ran a 5k
Ran a 10k
Ran a half marathon
Ran the (almost) New York Marathon
Went to the Olympics
Saw Chic – live
Acquired another cat
Wrote a lot of blog posts
Turned 30
Started a business

Gained a stone.

Went back to Slimming World today.

If I’m not 12 stone by Christmas, I will set fire to the turkey and eat the glass baubles off the tree.

Happy Blogiversary.

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A Bit Shit

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I’m sorry I haven’t blogged in ages, I’ve just been so busy. I will approve and answer all your comments soon, bit for now I need to concentrate on the new business! When it has settled into a routine, I will start blogging again and start trying to be 12 stone again, again.

Some things never change.

Laters