Well, hello. I’ve neglected you. I feel terrible. The guilt has gnawed away at me, but I have returned. This is why I don’t own plants, they are so quiet and I forget about them. Dogs and children on the other hand, they make noise, they let you know they’re around, no forgetting about them.
I’ve divorced Michelle Bridges. Not because I don’t agree with her program, it works, and there are many people that have achieved some amazing, life changing results. We just didn’t gel. If anything, the relationship almost sent me a little loopy. There, I’ve admitted it. I counted far too many calories, both those I had consumed and those I had burnt. It was not a healthy existence. I don’t expect that she will miss me though. SO, without Michelle in my life, what am I going to do? Plenty.
Work is crazy busy, which is much better than not. The little humans in my life continue to make me laugh, often inappropriately (sometimes I just can’t help it). The Devil continues to know best. And I’m developing a new relationship with food and exercise.
When I say developing a new relationship, maybe looking for one is a better description. I’ve been seeing the Food Nazi and Rugby Boy quite a lot recently. Rugby Boy had me back in a boot for a few weeks, punishment for not listening to him in the first place – apparently you’re not supposed to try and run on your leg when you have been told you have syndesmosis and have just had 3 cortisone injections in your ligaments. In all fairness, I did wait a week. Being in the boot was kind of a good excuse to start divorce proceedings with Michelle. The clincher came when I met the Food Nazi.
At the request of my Dr, the Irishman, I’ve got a new person in my life, the Food Nazi. She is, however, not a nazi. She is funny, crazy funny, but not quite a nazi. When I first met her, she told me to let go, relax and develop a new perspective on food and exercise. Both of which should be enjoyed. I was told to start eating MORE. I kid you not. I was told that the 1200 calories (and maybe somedays a little less) was not enough. She printed out a few pages of ‘normal’ snacks, that included chocolate and wine (I’m serious). The Food Nazi made me promise not to count anything for a little while, to eat when I was hungry and to eat what I wanted. She didn’t have to tell me twice. So with the ‘start to relax’ approach to food and the fact that I was stuck in a boot again was potentially a recipe for disaster. Or, was it?
I certainly relaxed. I ate and drank what I wanted, when I wanted, and then some. I didn’t exercise. I gained 900g (well, actually now, closer to 2.5kgs…)But I also started to come to a few realisations. At my next get together with the Food Nazi, I apologised for not being very sensible, expecting a tongue lashing. But no. She was actually quite happy. This apparently is progress.
Where am I at today as I sit down and tap out these words? I believe I’m in a new place. I bought a swimming costume and have even ventured into a public pool. On more than one occasion. I’ve trained in a gym maybe 3 or so times since early July. I skipped training tonight, but I am at least starting to think about wanting to train again. Not having to train, but wanting to train. Such a liberating feeling.
It can no longer be about weight loss. Such an all-consuming and warped sense of reality. So long as I am looking after myself with what I put in my mouth and I’m moving, if my body can or wants to shed some weight, then it will happen. I just hope I’m a good role model for both of the little humans I’m responsible for.
On a promise not to neglect you like this again, chat soon.