babble, exercise, story of my life

Monthly Measurements: August 2015

1st August 2015

FATGIRLslim | The Measure Of A (Wo)Man

  • Neck: 16″
  • Upper arm R: 20″
  • Upper arm L: 20″
  • Wrist R: 7.2″ (-0.25″)
  • Wrist L: 7.2″ (-0.25″)
  • Bust: 63 (-1″)
  • Bra band: 53” (+1”)
  • Waist: 57”
  • Hips: 70″
  • Upper thigh R: 35″
  • Upper thigh L: 35″
  • Calf R: 20″
  • Calf L: 21.5″
  • Ankle R: 11″
  • Ankle L: 13.5″ (+0.5″)

I really need to start exercising again, that’s all there is to it. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off since Zero died. I said I was going to rejoin the gym, and I haven’t done that yet, because I don’t want to join the gym and not attend if/when I find it too difficult, or if I can’t get there because I can’t go my bike yet.

So I need to start using the things I have at home. Note to self: get the tyre inflator thing off of Mum tomorrow when she gets home, and get the tyres re-inflated on my bike so I can actually use the damn thing. I’ve probably got a new colony of spiders making a home on it, as well as the cats using the waterproof cover as a new house.

I also have to start re-adjusting my sleep schedule again, to get up in the mornings so that I can do a dance workout while Mum’s at work. It’s too noisy – and there’s no room – to do it upstairs in my bedroom – and I don’t wanna do it while she’s crocheting or knitting downstairs, so. Morning it’ll have to be. But when I got friendly with Apple (the now ex douchebag boyfriend) and Zero (the unfortunately deceased friend), I was staying up late AND waking up early, and my sleep schedule got wonky. Now that Zero’s (as previously mentioned, sigh) passed away, and Apple’s no longer talking to me – his loss – I’ve nobody to take my time up in the mornings, so if I wake up early, my mornings can be spent away from the computer and PS4.

And yes. Hush. If I woke up in the mornings, I used to go straight onto my PS4 or computer so that I could talk to a couple of boys. It was nice to have friends. Who then went on to become something more. One of them died, and the other cut off all ties with me and the rest of his friends to get away from me. That’s the kind of luck I apparently have. Go figure.

(I’m not that bad, am I? Jeez.)

Anyway. Sleep schedule: needs fixed. Eating: slowly being fixed. Soda: almost entirely gone from my life (I’ve got a vlog that I was going to also post today, but it needs to be re-recorded). Exercise: needs re-introduced.

It might go tits up, because I’m applying (late, admittedly, but I’m applying anyway) for college again, because the rules for funding have changed, but hey. Assuming I get in, it might be a good thing.

300s, babble, body talk, food, paleo, phase one, phase two, primal, randomosity, south beach, story of my life, weight loss

In Which I’m Actually Losing Weight

29th July 2015

FATGIRLslim | Losing Weight With Vegetables
© Clickamericas | Dreamstime.comFruits At The Market Photo

Well, what do you know? It is still possible for me to lose weight. I’ve been losing weight this past week and few days.

Now, I said that I was going to do South Beach, but after a week (minus the weekend) of Phase One, I broke down and decided to switch to modified Paleo instead, because OMFG, I cannot live without fruit, I’m sorry. It isn’t even cravings. It’s just that I can’t deal with a diet that doesn’t let me eat fruit – I’m not keen on that many vegetables. I don’t mind having salads for lunch, and some veggies with my dinner, but breakfasts are a nightmare if I can’t have fruit.

It was either ALL PROTEIN breakfast, or basically lunch for breakfast, and it was driving me insane. So I decided to switch to a modified Paleo diet, which essentially means I’m still eating South Beach, but it’s more just like Phase Two, Paleo, and I don’t chide myself if I get sick like I’ve been since yesterday and have to eat brown bread toast all day because I can’t stomach anything else.

(I’m not even kidding. After lunchtime yesterday, I started getting nauseous. I had plans to make this garlic dip to go with the meatballs Mum had in the fridge, with some of my homemade guac [shut up. Guac goes with everything.] and a side salad, butternut squash fried and parsnip. When Mum started cooking her own meatballs, I started getting nauseous at the smell of the meatballs cooking. I had to fight not to vomit. I’ve been doing that ever since. Today, I’ve eaten two slices of brown bread toast with butter, and a pack of what’s essentially saltine crackers. I’m still feeling nauseous. My head feels like it’s in a vice. I’m pretty sure that’s connected to the nausea.)

But right now, I’m sure it’s gonna pass, and that’s fine. I’m losing weight, and I’m not worried about the nausea, because I know it’s not connected to the actual losing weight part. It’s something I’ve eaten, or it’s something to do with my medications. It’ll pass, and I’ll go back to my normal level of feeling horrible, haha.

However: I’m pretty happy to know that my body’s not totally broken.

What I’m not so happy to know is that, in order to about losing weight, I have to do something as drastic as this. I think I’ve calculated my BMR (basal metabolic rate) so many times online that I’ve actually lost count, and it’s averaged out around 2,600. It’s been anywhere between 2,000-4,800kcal.

I saw this Body Weight Planner in an article on the Huffington Post recently, however, and input all my data, and it said that I basically need to eat less than 1,300 kcal per day to lose weight. Not the usual 2,200kcal that other calculators say I need to eat to lose weight.

I mean, when I started doing Weight Watchers, I ate more food, and I lost weight. Now, I eat more food, and I gain weight – doesn’t matter what kind of food, usually.

But with Paleo/South Beach/Primal/Low Carb/Keto or whatever, my actual bulk of food has gone up (I’m still only eating three meals a day with a snack in between) but I’m eating less calories, but I’m eating more fat, more protein, less carbs…

I don’t get it at all.

I mean, I sort of do. Fat doesn’t make you fat. Carbs make you fat, because an excess of carbohydrate is stored in the body as fat.

But why should the calorie count of my food matter? It never has before. I’m fairly sure that the calorie count of my maxed-out Weight Watchers Points/ProPoints/Points Plus or Core Plan food was probably somewhere in the region of 3,000kcal per day… and I lost mounds of weight at the time.

Right now, however, I’m down about 8lbs.

I’m losing weight.

I’m just going to keep on doing what I’m doing.

And I’m not going to complain, or look a gift horse in the mouth. Screw science, man. My body doesn’t listen to science, apparently. It does its own thing.

Like losing weight only when I fill it with green stuff, apparently.

Go figure.

babble, non-scale victory, story of my life

In Which I’m Broken Hearted

19th July 2015

FATGIRLslim | In Which I Have A Broken Heart
(Free photobank / CC BY 4.0

I count myself fairly lucky in life, in that out of the entire 4.5 actual relationships I’ve been in, I’m still friends with 2 of them. I don’t know if it’s a true fact or not, but I’m pretty sure most people don’t enjoy staying friends with their exes, for obvious reasons.

When my friend Zero died, I realised that I’d been falling for him a little. It hurt. I knew that I liked him, but I didn’t know that I felt quite as much for him as I did, especially because I was already crazy about one of my other friends by that point.

Last week, I decided to bite the bullet and actually tell him (the other friend, obviously, and not Zero…) how I felt about him. We already flirted like crazy and he told me I was beautiful, and… *shrug* What did I have to lose, right?

We ended up changing Facebook statuses (and I’ll say what I said to him: statii? statuses? What’s the correct plural of status?) to “in a relationship with x and y“, and spending hours at a time together on Skype talking about everything and nothing.

That was a week ago, when we decided to do the whole Facebook-status thing, I think. Then Friday night happened. I’ll not go into huge details, because that’s not cool, but he ended up drunker than I’ve ever been, and drunker than I’ve ever seen him, to the point where we got worried that he’d hurt himself. My friend called 911 in Canada (as she’s in Canada) who passed her through to his home city, but as we don’t know his home address, they couldn’t do anything.

Then, when it came 6am, I made the genius mistake of calling his workplace to ask if they’d release his details – which they wouldn’t – and then said, “well, would you give his house a call and get a family member to check on him because we’re worried.”

Suffice it to say, the manager obviously didn’t call his house. Four armed police officers turned up, instead.

And I got landed with the blame. I got told to, and I quote, “have a nice life.” I got blocked. I feel like I got my heart torn out, stomped on, beat up, ripped into a million tiny little shreds and set alight. And then pissed on just for good measure. Then I’m pretty sure some wild, rabid zombie dogs came along and ate the pieces of my heart up, barfed them out and ate them up again before pooping them out.

If I wasn’t still mostly numb from losing Zero, I’d be curled up in my bed with three tubs of Ben & Jerry’s or Häagen-Dazs, a couple of tubs of Pringles, three or four bags of gummy sweets, and a few bottles of absinthe, Captain Morgan’s Rum and alcopops or shots.

As is, I had three separate panic attacks yesterday: one when the guys who were on the computer explained what was happening on camera at the time, and we heard this noise that we couldn’t identify, and Jay, who’s ex-military said, “But don’t worry, it’s not a gun.” Panic attack two came when I read the message that he was cutting me out of his life. Panic attack three came when I was explaining what was happening to my parents. I’ve never used my inhaler so much in one day in all of my life.

But do you know what I didn’t do?

I didn’t turn to alcohol, and I didn’t turn to food. I turned to my friends, and I turned to my family.

And I slept, and I let my brain take over.

My heart is very much that beaten-up and broken thing pooped out by zombie dogs right now, but my brain is in, “it’s his loss,” mode, because it is. I mean, he’s a wonderful guy, and I know it. He’s funny and smart and gorgeous, but if he’s willing to blame me for something that’s not my fault, when I’m willing to accept him despite all of his faults…?


Just goes to show, though, that the Universe is not happy with me. I got to be happy, and to think that I could have had a happy future with someone instead of trying to imagine the rest of my life alone – as usual – for less than a week. At least it’s easy enough to readjust back to normality.

It’s the fact that my heart’s still in love with him, even bleeding and broken on the ground, that hurts.

But I’ll get over it, right?


babble, south beach, story of my life

In Which I’m Heading Back To South Beach

17th July 2015

FATGIRLslim | South Beach Books

I’ve attempted doing the South Beach Diet before. Twice, even. I’ve managed to do Phase One, which lasts two weeks, twice.

Phase Two is what gets me. That’s when you reintroduce carbs from sources like rice, pasta, fruit, etc, slowly back into your diet. I go a little nuts, apparently. (Speaking of nuts… I’d better buy some over the weekend so I’ve got something to snack on.)

But I know that South Beach works for me.

I mentioned at the end of June that I was actually going to try out the 2015 Weight Watchers plan – and I might still do that. They’ve got a low carb option, so maybe once I’m onto Phase Two, I can look at following the WW Low Carb Points Plus option, instead of South Beach Phase two. It’s an option.

Mostly… Mostly, I’m just sick of thinking, “Why isn’t so-and-so working for me?” I mean, I’m not eating junk. I’ve had three takeaways in two months – and that’s excessive. Since the start of the year, I think we’ve had five or six, including the three I just mentioned. Mum’s stopped buying in cakes and biscuits, since she had the scare about her gallbladder (it’s not gallstones, it’s not cancer, it’s not an ulcer; she had an endoscopy on Monday, and she had an ultrasound about a month before that. They have no clue what it is, same as they have no clue what caused my not-a-heart-attack.) We eat home-cooked meals. I eat basically the same thing every day for breakfast and lunch, so I know how many calories and macronutrients are in my breakfast and lunch every day.

And yet, I’m not losing weight. In fact, in the week that I bought the pizzas (yes, plural) from Dominos or Pizza Hut, I gained 3lbs. I didn’t eat the pizzas as well as my usual food. I ate it instead of my usual food… and I understand that there’s a marked difference between a healthy, home-cooked meal and a couple of slices of a large pizza, but it’s still not enough to gain 3lbs in a week.

(To wit: to gain 3lbs in a week, I’d have needed to have eaten an excess of 10,500kcal, over and above my BMR and daily caloric expenditure. Given that my BMR has been calculated at about 2,300kcal and I live a very sedentary life right now, I just use my BMR as my daily calorie allowance, and eat as close to that as possible.)

Basically, it’s all driving me nuts. So I’m going to do something that I know has worked for me in the past, and hopefully, it’ll work again. The only thing I really, really dislike about Phase One is, of course, the absolute ban on fruit in the first two weeks, because it’s cherry season right now, and picota cherries are available and I am more than happy to use 125kcal on a little tub of them all to myself while I game or watch a movie.

But no.

I have to decide to start doing the South Beach Diet again, right in the middle of summer.

Way to go, self. You’re an idiot. *grin*

babble, bicycle, exercise, spinning, story of my life

In Which It’s Not Just Like Riding A Bike

12th July 2015

I don’t think I mentioned that I bought a bike more than a month ago. It’s beautiful. It fits my inside leg measurement and crazy-tall lady height, unlike the last bike we picked up from Freecycle that gave me the Lion Mauling. I still haven’t actually used it, though – I’ve got it all set up and ready to go. It’s just sitting outside, covered in its waterproof sheet.

FATGIRLslim | Like Riding A Bike: Viking Bike

So what’s the problem?

To put it bluntly… fear. Fear is the problem. When I took it to the back patio to set the saddle up to the correct height, I sat up in it and tried to balance, and oh god. You know how they say that “it’s like riding a bike”, when they mean that you never really forget how to do something? And that it’s all muscle memory and stuff?


I’m pretty sure I know how to ride a bike, because I had one when I was a kid, and I rode one for years in Spinning class, but that was stationary. And definitely not liable to tip to either side and throw me off. And I absolutely didn’t have to wear a helmet, kneepads, elbow pads and gloves to make sure that if it did that I didn’t scrape myself down to the bone.

(Yes, I bought all of the safety equipment. I also bought a pair of quad skates that I still haven’t actually used yet, because I need to get on my bike to go to the skate park where there [hopefully] won’t be huge cracks in the floor for me to catch myself on, and do aforementioned scraping myself to the bone, falling over, looking like an idiot, and having all my flab bouncing… and causing a 9.9 Richter scale earthquake on the other side of the earth due to the butterfly effect when I land. YOU SEE MY QUANDARY?!)

But what I do have is the Powerfly that I had on my other bike, that I had set up in my flat. It’s the thing you attach to the back pedal and it essentially turns your bike into a stationary bike. So I’m going to do that. I’m going to set my bike up out back with the Powerfly, and I’m going to use it like a set of stabilisers – as well as a good way to get some exercise in – until I lose a little weight or get a little fitter, whichever happens first – and I get used to the bike and how it feels and until I lose the goddamn fear of being on a bike that’s not completely supported by a frame.

Otherwise I’m never gonna use it. And I don’t want that to happen. It’s a beautiful bike. It deserves to be used. And I can use it to get down to the gym and back. And I can use it to get down to the woods and back. And I can use it to just get out of the house for a while. Headphones on, wind in my face, legs pumping. It won’t be Spinning, but it’ll be something.

And then, eventually, Spinning again.

For right now, however, I’ve got to learn how to ride a bike again.

It can’t be that hard, right? It’s just like riding a bike.