You Mess with Me? You Mess With MY Whole Family!

I stayed the same this week, which to be honest I was OK with. I think I’ve put my body through so much yo-yo dieting over the years that it really must wonder what the hell is going on.

   From diets that involve a ridiculous amount of cottage cheese, to ones that involve a fruity shake every 3 days, I’ve tried a variety. So I figure now I’m doing it properly, my body is re-adjusting itself and wondering if I’m about to stop the healthy eating and attempt the prawn, pomegranate and pea diet (I’m not sure this actually exists)

  I feel back in control of what I’m doing, I’m planning meals, pointing everything and exercising more too. I’m doing my favourite classes at the gym (willingly I might add) and haven’t received a “we are just checking you’re still alive phone call from the gym”

  Also helping my increase in exercise is the fact my beloved dog Cyril is on the mend and can once again roam the countryside. Poor old Cyril has had a bit of a time of it recently. He had to have quite a big operation on his leg earlier this year and he couldn’t really go on walks before the op and certainly not afterwards. He was on basket rest, which with Cyril was easier said than done. He became a bit of a 3-legged ninja. But now the leg is better.

Poorly Cyril

  Sadly for an active dog, being inactive meant that just like his mummy, Cyril piled on a few pounds, so he’s also been on a diet. Also just like Mummy, the weight is starting to come off and he’s looking good.

  So last week, Cyril, Lucy and I took off to Whitby.

   I love Whitby, it’s one of my favourite places, I love it’s Gothic qualities, I love the fact it still feels like a seaside town from my childhood, I love the cobbled streets, the quirky shops, the little cafes, the beauty of the coast and I love walking Cyril along the beach and then sitting with a cup of tea in a polystyrene cup. I love my Whitby Lucky Duck that sits on my bookcase and obviously makes my house a lucky place to live!

  Last week, Whitby was really quiet and Lucy, Cyril and I wondered around, in and out of shops, up and town the seafront, breaking the day up with cups of tea and a lobster tail. Cyril being Cyril was making friends everywhere we went.

As I stood outside one shop waiting for Lucy, this old couple came up to me and started asking questions about the dog.

“How old is he”

“What breed is he?”

“Did he behave?”

  We generally exchanged the pleasantries of strangers, and then as the couple turned to leave, the woman said these immortal words

  If I’m honest I’m still not sure if she was talking to me or the dog, although as she said it, she did bend to stroke Cyril, so maybe it was more aimed at him, but let me tell you something about pet owners. You tell them their pet is fat, what they hear is “you’re fat”.

  Make no bones about it, I was offended, Lucy was offended, I don’t think Cyril cared. 

 So when I heard the story about the lady who was handed a card on the tube by someone from an organisation called "Overweight Haters Ltd", I felt really angry on the woman's behalf. I was livid that the oldies had said said something to Cyril, who is a dog, but to actively take the time to have a card printed to hand to someone is a whole other level of tosser-ness!!!  Unless of course, the ring leaders are actually an old couple from North Yorkshire wear matching khaki coats and carrying a Roy Cropper style shopper, because lets face it, who knows what was in that bag!

Do More of What Makes you Happy!

Work has been quite busy recently and yesterday I decided to take a break from presentation writing and head off to the gym to Just Jhoom, which I love! As I was stood waiting for the class to start, two ladies were having a chat, their conversation went like this:

 I’m pretty sure if the Bollywood music hadn’t kicked in, they’d have moved on to how they hate puppies, cupcakes and sunrises. They appeared to be deliberately trying to out-misery one another!

  This goes completely against what I’ve been working on the last few weeks. I’d been feeling really out of sorts and not my normal happy self. I spoke to my sister Lucy about it and she said “remember when that woman at work put in a complaint about me because I was too cheerful? I want to be that happy again”

  So it set me thinking, about what was making me unhappy. I came to the conclusion that I was generally just under appreciated and not doing anything to make me happy. I also realised that I was the one who wasn't appreciating myself and not doing any of the things that I enjoyed. 

So, I’ve spent the last couple of weeks really focusing on me and what makes me happy. I decided that at least once a day, I would take time out for me and do whatever the hell I pleased and I would also enjoy it!

  I’ve walked on the beach with Cyril, which is one of my favourite things to do. Sitting at one of the beachside cafes with a coffee, gossiping with Lucy and listening to the waves roll in and out.

Cyril on the beach

 I also re-introduced myself to my Kindle, finished off a book that I’d been trying to read since Christmas (quite fittingly a Jackie Cooper) and started another that I’d downloaded because someone recommended it. “The Girl in the Photograph” by Kate Riordan. So far so good, it reminds me a bit of “Rebecca”. Plus the sheer joy of spending half an hour sitting with a brew and reading is really helping, because I love it, I’ve always loved reading!

  I’ve also set aside time to go to the gym and do the classes I like, rather than trying to squeeze in a quick half an hour to walk on a treadmill, which I don’t really like. And although Cyril is limited in the walks he can do at the moment because he’s recovering from leg surgery, I’ve made sure those 10 minutes count. We’ve headed off to places I love, such as Newstead Abbey. We may as well have a 10 minute walk in what I think is the most beautiful place in Nottinghamshire!

Newstead Abbey

The result of all this? Well I feel better and as a result my diet has been better, I’m eating far healthier, I’m happier, my trousers are getting loser again and I’m not using food as a way of cheering myself up. In fact for the first time in ages, I don’t have any chocolate in the house! Not even an “in case of emergency bar”

   

“You Can’t Go In There Unless You’re Going to Buy Something” My Gran and Other Tall Tales!

Firstly a massive thank you! On Monday morning, I woke up to this e-mail (well actually I saw it at 4.29am, but who can you share good news with at that time in a morning?)

  “Slinky By Tuesday” has made it to the shortlist in the Lifestyle category for the UK Blog Awards. As the first part of the process is being voted for by members of the public I am absolutely over the moon, I genuinely can’t thank the people who voted enough!

  It also means that we are off to a swanky award ceremony in London on the 25^th April and that means looking fabulous! It’s also given me a bit of a weight loss kick up the bottom. I’ve been struggling the last few weeks to shift my holiday weight; it’s been half a pound here, a pound there, but nothing that’s really been significant. However the arrival of the e-mail was just the boost I needed and even though it’s only Wednesday, I’ve already been to the gym twice this week and have worked out when I can go again, whilst still fitting in all the other things I need to! I think it’s called “planning”

  I’ve discovered that I like going to the gym first thing, mainly because it’s done for the day and it actually leaves me feeling smug! There’s something about taking 45 minutes out at the start of the day to do something for myself that seems to clear my mind and put me in a good mood. Although this video, looks more "Blair Witch" than Happy Katie!

  I noticed this morning, that rather than the usual mix of TOWIE-tanned muscle men lifting weights and grunting out of time to the music,  my gym is full of slightly older people. I reckon most of the people there were 60 plus. In fact I had a lovely conversation in the changing rom with two ladies in their 70’s who were off for their morning swim.

  I can’t tell you how much I admire this. It made me think about my Gran. My Grandma Mable was a weird contradiction, in many ways formidable and strong and in others afraid to try things, but ultimately she never did things by halves.

  She never went on an aeroplane until she was 56 and then she flew to Australia (as a passenger, she didn’t suddenly fulfil a lifelong ambition to become Amelia Earheart) She never had an operation until one day she fell and broke her hip, even then when the ambulance men came to fetch her she refused to sit in the wheelchair and she was carted off, with one of them saying “I bet you’re a rum old bugger Mable” Whilst she was in there, they discovered she had problems with her bowels and performed an emergency operation on Christmas Eve. We were told not to expect her to last the night (“Merry Christmas”) She did and lived another very happy 10 years complete with a Zimmer frame (or a zither as she called it), a dodgy heart and two colostomy bags! I always felt a lesser woman would have given up, but not her!

Gran and I, Christmas 2005

  For all her strength, she refused to try new things, and to get herself out of stuff, she would make up really weird excuses. Excuses so weird, that there was no way they couldn't be true, either that or maybe I was a REALLY gullible child! 

  For example, she would take Lucy and I on regular trips to Sutton. These trips would include getting the 345 bus, a visit to Fine Fare, fish and chips and a visit to the shops. If there was a shop Gran didn't want to go in, she would tell us that there were certain shops in the world, that you couldn't go in unless you bought something. Gran would tell us that they had people on the door making sure that you had a carrier bag with something in that you'd bought from there. We would stand outside the shop, hand on the doorknob and Gran would say "of course if you KNOW you want to buy something, then we'll go in, but I don't want you getting into trouble"  It never occurred to me and Lucy that these shops were mainly toy, sweet and pet shops! 

   She also never came swimming with us; I remember her telling me once that this was because people over 50 weren’t allowed to wear swimsuits. This scared me and as a result, I felt I should spend as much time in my swimsuit as possible! It made me  wonder what on earth happened to you if you did wear a swimsuit after the age of 50. Did you get sent to prison? Were you fined? How was it policed? Did David Hasselhoff roam the beaches of southern England demanding to see birth certificates and then carting off offenders to bared beach huts “to think about what they’ve done”

Gran and a weird blowy thing from a Christmas cracker!

  I think it’s because of this that whenever I see an older person taking part in an exercise class, pounding the treadmill or preparing for an early morning swim, it just makes me smile, because I think good on you! I also worry they’ll probably get arrested!

Gran, Grandpa, me as a baby and our dog Mitch

  

She Wore an Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini

Looks like my efforts at Wimbledon were worth it, another half pound gone. This week I’m moving house, the removal men are booked for Sunday, most things are packed in boxes and I’m in the process of emptying my freezer so my menu choices this week will be slightly random and involve lots of frozen veg. I’m hoping this means I'll have a fairly decent weight loss next week!

  Once I’ve moved then a holiday is definitely on the cards, a week in the sunshine to help me recover from box packing hell!

  As much as I love lazing on a sunbed I hate putting my swimsuit on because I’m always conscious of the fact there’s a million people around me who look better. I haven’t worn a bikini in years, mainly because the idea of being heckled by the locals scares me or even worse being asked, “when it’s due?”. Normally on holiday I role out of bed, squirt on some deodorant and put on whatever swimsuit I’ve managed to find that fits. I tie my hair back and off I go. The day then consists of me trying to position myself on a sunbed so that I look as less fat as possible and moving quickly to get into the pool to avoid being semi-naked in front of people for any length of time.  I spend most of the day imagining the other guests whispering behind their hands about how I must have no shame to look like I do and be out in public and why don’t I just go on a diet? I’m sure their conversations really consist of what cocktail to try next or relaying the plot of whatever book they’re reading to the other half

 Still the next time I go away, I’ve decided I’m having a “beach look”, if I’m going to wander around semi naked in public, I’m going to do it with confidence. I’ve worked hard to lose the weight I’ve lost so far and by the time I go away I hope to have lost another stone and a half. Every year in magazines there’s articles on how to look good on the beach and I always think “well that’s lovely, but you’re definition of curvy is a size 12 on a bad day”, so I’ve decided no more will I shrink away wearing the only swimsuit I can find that fits or something I’ve picked up for a fiver in the sales that involves me spending my holiday shoving my boobs back into it or wondering why a barman is smiling at me, only to realise I’ve been flashing my nipple at him for the last half an hour. I’m going to look switswoo!

I don’t mean I’m going to turn into one of those women who rocks up on an episode of “Maury” wearing a mini skirt with her ass hanging out the bottom and a crop top. A bikini is really a no-no, pants covered by belly overhang is not a good look! Instead I’m going to buy a couple of more expensive, but better fitted tankinis, ones that have panels to suck you in and come in your actual bra size. Bravissimo have some lovely ones at the moment. http://www.bravissimo.com/products/swimwear/#/1

  Then, because I’m not keen on my legs and bum, I’m going to buy a couple of sarongs There's loads of cheap ones in the supermarkets at the moment. That way I can cover my legs as I lounge on my sunbed and not worry about anyone breaking into a chorus of “thunder, thunder, thunder, thunder, thunder thighs”

  I may even treat myself to a kaftan, as I always think these look really glamorous particularly if worn with a big sunhat and oversized sunglasses! Marisota have some great ones.http://bit.ly/19T0vQx

  I’m even going to make an effort to make sure my nails are painted (toes and fingers) and when I get out of bed in a morning do more with my hair than scrunch it up in a bobble. I’ve even priced up some beads so I can make myself a couple of bracelets that won’t go manky in the pool.

As I see it, I’m never going to compete with someone who’s a size 8 when we’re both in swimwear, but I can make an effort to at least make sure I feel good in what I’m wearing. That way as I strut to the bar for a Strawberry Daiquiri (or something less fattening) I don’t care about my slightly oversized bottom, because it’s clothed in something fabulous!