It Was the Weekends That Got Us Into Trouble...

I’ve been having a sort out this week and I found this sign hiding in a draw. Maybe I'd put it there to try and hide the guilt it made me feel!

It struck me that where my Slinky mission is concerned, this has very much been the case. Monday to Friday I behave impeccably, planning my meals, trying to exercise as much as I can and accounting for everything I eat. Monday to Friday, I am the perfect Weight Watcher.

Then Saturday arrives, screeching in like Lewis Hamilton for a pit stop, when he knows Nico Rosberg could take the lead and blow his chances of winning!

Only my Lewis brings wine and takeaway! 

  One quick drink in the pub, whilst out walking the dog turns into a bottle (for us, not him) And Saturday night tele for some reason has become a special occasion that can only be celebrated by drinking more wine and ordering pizza. The pizza is normally ordered after we’ve had dinner and are awoken by a loud banging on the door, where we discover Pete (everyone’s favourite pizza delivery man) stood at the door with a large seafood and a portion of cheesy chips!

  Well not this time! This time, I decided that if I were going to give myself the best chance of being fabulously Slinky by the time I’m 40, next July, then I needed to bid Pete (everyone’s favourite pizza delivery man) farewell and enjoy my weekends without ENJOYING my weekends too much! Which in fairness, now my weigh day is a Sunday, I don't have the option of trying to rectify my wrongs the early part of the week!

  So I took charge! Friday night, Lucy and I went out for a meal and wine! However, we’d checked out the menu beforehand and knew what we were having. It was on my tracker before I even stepped into the restaurant. There was also wine, but again all within my points and there was lemonade!

  Saturday, involved a long dog walk with Cyril and Saturday night’s dinner was planned and prepared before the wine was open and again everything was pointed.

  On Sunday morning something weird happened, I got up early and went to zumba and then took Cyril for a walk! By the time lunchtime had arrived, I’d done over 12,000 steps and earned 10 bonus points! So a wander around town to see the Christmas lights being switched on, meant that I could indulge in this little beauty.

Only if you're from Mansfield, will you understand the true joy of cockles, mushy peas and mint sauce from the market place. (Don't judge it, until you've tried it!)

  So when I stepped on the scales and it showed that I’d lost 4 pounds, I was so proud of myself. I was proud for lots of reasons. I’d been in control of the weekend, it hadn't controlled me and I’d had a really good time, done all the things I enjoyed and still managed to lose weight!

  I know it’s just the first weekend and I’m sure at some point, there’ll be a late night knock from Pete (everyone's favourite pizza delivery man) with a large seafood, and a portion of cheesy chips, but not right now!

I'm Not Anti Exercise, I'm Just Anti Doing Stuff I Don't Like!

There’s a line in “Sex and the City”, where Carrie says that shopping is her cardio. There’s a lot of things I like about Carrie Bradshaw, her fabulous shoes, her ability to wear clothes that would quite frankly make me look like a crazy bag lady and the fact that despite spending most of her evenings drinking Cosmopolitan’s in a fancy New York bar, she really doesn’t have a weight problem! (Weight Watchers fans, a Cosmo is 6 pro-points!)

  Alright, I’m sure there’s a wealth of personal trainers who would argue that shopping isn’t cardio, but they would be wrong. I can only assume they’ve never spent a proper day shopping, walking in and out of shops, up and down stairs, spending hours and hours traipsing around the streets of your favourite city, looking for that one bargain! Plus, sitting to enjoy a coffee / glass of wine on your trip is not only a chance to rehydrate, but is also sort of like doing squats….. I went too far didn’t I?

  I think the point Carrie is trying to make, is that whatever it is that gets your heart pumping and the blood racing around your body, should be something you like doing. P.E lessons for me as a child, were not fun, running around a school field in P.E knickers in the freezing cold, getting bashed with a hockey stick and trying to make head or tale of what the bloody hell lacrosse was. None of these things made me happy or indeed want to continue them in later life. In fact having an amenable music teacher meant that he was quite happy to schedule my flute lessons for then!

  As part of my “Happy Katie” plan, and knowing that eating less and moving more helps with the slinky mission, I have decided to only do things at the gym that I really like. The classes where I don’t notice the ticking of the clock and spend it wishing the teacher would get a phone call telling her that a heard of goats had attacked her car.

  So the last few weeks, I’ve been trampolining. Planet Bounce has opened in Nottingham and if you haven’t been, then I’d really recommend it. I went with my friends and godchildren and bouncing is for EVERYONE! Turns out an hour of bouncing is quite a lot, but it’s one of the most fun things I’ve done all year!

Bounce selfie!

Shooting hoops is far easier with the help of a trampoline!

  I’ve carried on with Burlesque dancing, because lets face it, if more exercise classes involved top hats and feather boas, gyms would be happier, feather-covered places.  I’m doing Just Jhoom (Bollywood inspired) and today I booked myself into a Zumba class that I had never done.

  Turns out I didn’t read the small print with the Zumba class because it was the hardest class I have ever done! I’m not really sure why.  I’ve done Zumba a lot in the past, but for some reason my feet and arms had declared war on each other and were refusing to work in perfect harmony. There was one routine that involved so much spinning around, that I think even Kylie would have refused to continue! Still my new 71 year old BZF (best Zumba friend) kept checking I was OK and we had a lovely discussion about “Strictly Come Dancing”, she’s rooting for Jay & Aliona, she doesn’t like Peter Andre and she thinks Jeremy Vine is very brave to take part, because he’s all arms and legs.

  By the end of the class, I was slightly dizzy, very sweaty and a crazy red face!

  However I loved it and I’ll be going again next week, although maybe, just MAYBE I’ll get my limbs to work together.

Turns out I’m not anti-exercise, I’m just anti doing stuff I don’t like!

Katie Has Been Extended Until Further Notice

I realised the other day as I got dressed to go to Zumba, that all my gym gear was basically stuff that I deemed not good enough to wear in polite society, but was too good to throw away. I’m not one of these women who thinks she has to wear a full face of makeup and have perfect hair when she goes to the gym, I pretty much figure I’m there to get hot and sweaty and having your make up running down your face a la Gene Simmons is not a great look. However last week, the slightly vain bit of me, thought it might be OK if I bought some nice gym clothes that I hadn’t owned for 5 years.

My sexy gym look!

 A shopping trip beckoned and as I flicked through the rails I realised that I was in the wrong bit of the shop. Nothing in the section I was looking went above a size 16. I realised I needed to be in the special “fatties” section. They don’t call it that obviously, because that might be offensive, instead they say “plus size” and do you know what it’s a term that really annoys me!

   What does it even mean? I’m a size plus what? Another size? An extra few stone? Who invented the term? At what point do you become “plus size”? Do you receive a letter through the post informing you’re no longer size acceptable?

If you watch something like “America’s Next Top Model”, then Tyra will deem anyone size 12 or over a plus size model. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Tyra, I admire her greatly, but when she says things like “you are a bootlicious curvy beauty doing it for the larger lady” I want to throw my shoe at the tele, Jerry Springer style and scream, she’s a size 12 you moron and has a far nicer body than the daughters of Skeletor you keep putting through!

  I get that the modelling industry has a slightly skewed version of beauty and that using fat people mean you’ll have to use more material in your dresses, which will cost you more, but and here’s something for you to consider…….. fat people like nice clothes too!

We buy them too, only we tend to just call them “clothes” I’ve never heard anyone say I went and bought myself a “plus size dress the other day”, they tend to say “I bought a dress the other day”

 A lingerie brand  recently announced they were dropping the term “plus size” (hurrah) instead they were replacing it with the term “Extended”. There are a few things in life I believe can be extended – holidays, your house, your mortgage or something on a stick so you can wash your windows. I’m not sure a person can be extended! It doesn’t mean anything!

  I don’t mind being called “curvy”, because that conjures up images of Marilyn Monroe, who still sells more magazines when she’s on the cover than any other woman!

  Ajay Rochester who is an author and host of  “Australia’s Biggest Loser” has launched a campaign on Instagram to #droptheplussize as she believes (and I agree) that using the term “plus size” is damaging for the minds of young people and I agree.

  Women come in different shapes and sizes, we’re different heights and weights. For example, someone who is 5ft 11 and weighs 12 stone is going to be a size 12. Another woman who also weighs 12 stone, but is 5ft 3, would probably be a size 16 / 18.

  It makes me laugh that even when I reach my Slinky goal, I’ll still technically have to shop in the “plus size” or “extended” section (if I decide to treat myself to some lingerie) So how’s about we just have clothes shops that sell clothes for women of all shapes and sizes, where you can go in, find what you want, buy it, wear it and feel good in it and not have to head to back of the store where they’ve put a section for fat people?

  I’d also be interested to hear from those who shop in the “petite” section, do you mind being referred to as “petite” or “tiny”?

PS – I lost another pound this week, that’s 6 over 3 weeks, I’ll take that and party!

And I'm Feeling Good.....and Other Lies!

I’m having one of those days today, where I really couldn’t decide what to wear, not because I have a date or an important meeting, but because today when I looked in the mirror I really hated what I saw! The irony is that I know my body is starting to get a bit more toned; my bingo wings are wobbling far less than normal…. I know this because I keep looking at them and giving them a jiggle to check it’s not an illusion and my weight is steadily decreasing.

  It just felt like every single item of clothing I put on looked awful. It appeared to show every lump and bump, even lumps and bumps that I swear weren’t there yesterday! I think I changed my top about 5 times before I dared to leave the house and even then I opted for a t-shirt that’s about 4 sizes too big, in fact there may even be a small person hiding underneath it, it’s so large I probably wouldn’t even notice!

  The weird thing is that I didn’t feel like this yesterday and I certainly didn’t feel like it the day before. In fact the day before I went to my Zumba class (which I’m still really bad at, but really love) I’m not one of those girls sees the gym as a place to meet a potential husband. I don’t go in with perfect make up or my hair in some fancy style, in fact most of the time I go in an old pair of joggers and a t-shirt I’ve unearthed from a bottom of the draw, but hey when I know I’m going to end up looking like this…

Sexy post exercise face

  There’s no point in making an effort because who’s going to fancy a sweaty fat bird?

  It wasn’t until I arrived at the gym for Zumba, that I realised my choice of t-shirt may have been a bit of a mistake. Now I love this particular top because I love Tommy Cooper and it’s StellaMcCartney dahhhhling (actually it’s probably the only bit of Stella McCartney clothing I can fit in) However it wasn’t until I arrived at the gym and saw the look of horror on the two 19 year old TOWIE wannabees; complete with diamond studded earing, Aztec patterned wife beater vests, inappropriately short shorts (mouse back in the house boys) and a whiff of biscuits because of a tad too much fake tan that I realised I actually did look a “bogger” (to quote my Gran)

  For although I love my Tommy Cooper t-shirt, it would appear that Tommy was having a laugh at me from beyond the grave. Tommy’s large spectacles were perfectly placed, one over each bosom and his comedy red nose smack bang in the middle of my cleavage.

My beloved Tommy Cooper t-shirt

 But do you know what? I thought it was funny and every time I caught sight of myself in the mirror during the Zumba class, I had a little giggle to myself, because I thought I looked way more fabulous than the two horrified TOWIE wannabees!

  So, the question is why when I knew I looked like a “bogger” the other day, a “bogger” that was horrifying teenagers, did I still feel better about myself than I do today? I don’t know the answer, I really don’t, but for today I will hide away in my large t-shirt and maybe tomorrow when I wake up I’ll channel my inner Tommy Cooper!

  In the meantime here's my favourite version of "Feeling Good", probably not a shock that it's the Matt Goss version!