#Project Get Strong
I’m a sweet tooth. It’s my weakness. Baskin and Robbins icecream, especially their original chocolate and honey macadamia. Byron Bay Malteaser gelato comes pretty darn close too. Biscuits like Tim Tams and Monte Carlos. And I’m a dunker. I love to dunk my biscuits in iced coffee milk or a Milo. Chocolate not so much although I’m a sucker for a Wagon Wheel which is really a biscuit, isn’t it? And the texture of cake… Oh my.
And food has been my coping mechanism since I was little. If I have a victory, I celebrate with food. When I’m not coping with the world, I console myself with food. When PMS strikes, I deal with it with food. Video day on the weekend, food. At home sick, food.
The last few years, there has been a lot of coping using food. Hubby being sick and doctors being no help (don’t get me started). Being in a day job that makes me feel like I’m slowly choking to death and isn’t the right fit. Aching for the dream life of being an artist. Being acutely aware of how square peg I am in a round hole world. Being a perfectionist combined with also being the reigning the Queen of Impatience isn’t the best match in the world. And let’s not forget my mid life major life reassessment being in the mix. Wondering if I just think too much. Maybe I need to get out more.
In reality, I wasn’t eating THAT bad. But I would often destroy any good eating during the week with a blow out on the weekend. So I pulled back on the sweet stuff. And if I got anything it was a single serve. A scoop of icecream, not a tub. A chocolate bar, not a family block. No biscuits cause they only come in a big pack. I cut out the cordial. But it didn’t seem to make a difference.
I set a goal to be a certain weight by the Christy Tomlinson class because I wanted to look cutie patootie in the photos. And I thought it would be a powerful motivator to get my butt in gear. But with fighting off a cold on and off for the couple of months leading up to it, I managed to put on weight. Ah, damn it!
Christy did a post when she got back about feeling like she needed to do something about her fitness. Her words echoed how I felt. Feeling breathless, not feeling nice in clothes. And she started posting photos of her workouts. I decided to get up early and start working out in the mornings because my hubby needed me at night. After a full day of work, and making an early dinner for hubby because he hadn’t eaten all day, the last thing I felt like doing was jumping up and down and running around. So getting up early means it gets done every day, regardless of what else came my way.
I have an art retreat coming up in January. In the middle of summer. I didn’t think about the heat until a friend pointed it out. Its no fun being pudgy in the heat. There is gonna be a pool there. And I’m gonna want to use it to cool off. Which means wearing swimmers. So now I have a new goal to work towards. And having failed the first one, I’m feeling extra motivated. Cause I’m sick of not reaching goal after goal. Cause failing feels really sucky. Cause going backwards means I run back to the comfort of food which just makes me feel crappier.
Because I’m sick of seeing clothes I adore but knowing I can’t wear them cause I’ll look like a sack of potatoes tied in the middle.
So I started my 5am workouts. A combination of 80’s step aerobics (without the g string fluro leotard), 90’s Tae-bo, some yoga moves, some weights and gym exercises. I did it for a week and a half and was already feeling stronger, working harder, working out longer. Feeling pretty damn awesome. Like I had my super hero cape on. And I was being sensible with my food. I had set a mini goal to be a certain weight by the Friday. On Wednesday morning I woke up with bronchitis. Aah nuts.
But, even though I’ve been dying quietly on the couch for a week and a half, I’ve eaten healthy. Normally, I’d go for burger rings and biscuits for comfort (but not so great for getting better). Instead, I’ve eaten real food. Like fruit, simple meals with salad and veges. I’ve eaten small serves. And 1 week after my original deadline, I made my mini goal. So far, I’ve lost 4kg in 3 weeks. Yay me! No, really, Yay me.
Because I feel like I figured out what I need to do for me, for my body, to lose weight. I’ve found a way that works.And it’s not crazy. It’s a workout at 5am that is fun. Cheesy bananas music on my iPod -Backstreet Boys and Taylor Swift are my current favourites. And it’s nice to feel strong by lifting my weights. They are cast offs from a set my husband bought a hundred million years ago. Round metal ones with peeling paint -very industrial.
I’m loving that it’s about getting strong, not about getting skinny.
And my food isn’t crazy either. Smaller serves. Lots of salad or veges. No dairy cause I don’t like the way it makes me feel. And preparation. Healthy lunches, a range of good snacks. No/very little sugar. And I’m following some new people on Instagram for inspiration. Not super gorgeous fitness models who have always been athletic. People who have before and after photos and show how they’ve done it. Who understand seeking comfort in bad food.
I’m not declaring victory just yet. Trust me, I’ve got a long way to go. But I feel like I might have figured out how to work towards my dream outfit. How to get fierce and strong. There will be no numbers revealed just yet. Not until I’ve lost enough to boast about. I won’t be living on quinoa and kale chips either.
I’m using these for motivation – the pop up on my computer at That Day Job every day just to remind me. And during the day, they seem to echo in my head.
You can’t out exercise a bad diet.
Abs are made in the kitchen, not in the gym.
Dont drink your calories.
When I eat like crap, I feel like crap.
My blog won’t be turning into a workout blog. But occasionally, amongst the art, there will be an update or a recipe. Because finding your firelight isn’t about art. Its about making yourself blissfully happy. And that includes feeling amazing when you look in the mirror.
PS – I’ll be posting with the hashtag #projectgetstrong on Instagram if you wanna see how I’m going or if you wanna cheer me on.