Neglected

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

neglectedWell, 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.

 

Shrinking - or not

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