Get into the Groove


It's been quite difficult, since Christmas, to get into a groove of eating and exercising. Because of the snow, Weight Watchers was cancelled, and it was difficult to get to the gym as often as we'd have liked.

Weight Watchers was back in full swing this week, though. Unfortunately, I gained half a pound. In the grand scheme of things (considering I'd been left to my own devices for 3 weeks) that wasn't too bad. However, in 6 weeks I've only lost 2.5lbs over all, which isn't great. Actually, it's pretty appalling and not really motivational when I'm supposed to be on a mission.

I spoke to the group leader on Monday about what I'm eating, and it turns out that I might not be eating enough.

Then, on Tuesday, when I was speaking to my personal trainer, she's suggested that I'm probably not exercising enough, either, and I should look at WHAT I'm eating, to see if that's a factor.

I already know that bread makes me bloat. A lot. In an ideal world, I'd cut it out altogether, but it's all too easy to grab a sandwich for lunch or toast for breakfast.

My plan for the next couple of weeks is to:
* Eat more Pro Points
* Get into an exercise routine
* Make a conscious effort not to eat bread. As much.

I'm hoping that will have an impact on my weightloss... finger's crossed! x



So it's been snowing this week.

It looks pretty and everything, but it turns everything into such a MISSION. I hate it. On Friday, I left work at 10.50 and walked in the door at 1.15. It's usually a 25 minute journey in bad traffic. Joy.

The other frustrating thing is that, last Monday, my Weight Watchers meeting was cancelled due to 'elf n safety. And, with the snow still coming down now, I can't help thinking that tomorrow's meeting will be cancelled too.

I find it really difficult to stick to plan when I don't weigh in. It's as if I think I can reel it back in BEFORE next week.
I've tried to be good this week,I've stuck to plan, and I've exercised more, but...

I did a sneaky weigh this morning, and it suggested that I've gained a pound. Having looked back through my food diary, I actually don't think I've eaten enough. That, in itself, confuses me. I've eaten three meals a day, and snacked. I've not been hungry, but I'm well under my daily allowances. If I ate more, I'd be eating just for the sake of it.




So I've made a start this week with kicking the fatness' ass and proving the consultant wrong!
We went to the gym on Sunday - the first time in a long time. Unfortunately, I only managed about half an hour, which I think is mainly due to not being 100% over the sickness bug yet.
Weight watchers was cancelled last night because of the snow, but a home weigh in revealed a 2lb loss!
And tonight I saw my personal trainer for the first time this year. I loved it! And she bought me the slow cooker recipe book, which I'm super excited about.


New Start

The start of the year hasn't really been all that great - I ended up with Norovirus on New Year's Day and it wiped me out for the best part of 6 days. Then, on Tuesday, we had our second appointment with the gyne clinic to see how things are progressing.

Now, I'm not going to lie - the weight hasn't come off anywhere near like it should have. But, the dietician had been very positive about my progress and suggested that I make them aware that, although my weight hasn't changed all that much, I have lost inches, particularly from around my waist. From her perspective, that was better for me than losing weight, anyway.

We saw a different consultant this time to the one we saw at our first appointment, and I knew it wasn't going to go well when he said that I have "PCOS because of my size, obviously".
That, in itself isn't true.

He asked how the weight loss had gone and I admitted that since my last appointment I'd only lost 4 / 5lbs, but that I had lost 18.5cms.
"Sorry, you've lost me", he said, "What do you mean you've lost 18.5cms?"
"Well, I've measured myself - waist, hips, everywhere - and I've lost 18.5cms", I replied.
"That doesn't make sense. How can you lose CMs if you've not lost weight?", he said, looking at me as if I were stupid.
I looked at Mr B, and said "Well, it's muscle definition, isn't it? I'm changing the shape of muscle".
He continued to look at me as if I was stupid and said "Well that just doesn't make any sense. I don't understand that, so I don't believe it can be true".

What. The. Actual. F*ck.

Both my personal trainer AND the dietician have been really pleased with the lower measurements, and I've been on enough diets to know that they encourage you to measure yourself because even when you're not losing weight you can be losing the inches.

He then went on to lecture me, in an incredibly patronising way, about how to lose weight and how it would help not only with trying for a baby, but with my whole life. "Just think", he said, "about the impact it'll have".
Obviously making the assumption that because I'm fat, I'm unhappy.

In the end, (I think because he could see I was about to snap), Mr B asked what the aim was.

"Obviously", he said, "the ideal BMI is 25, but that's a long way off, so I think that perhaps trying to get it down as much as possible is the way to go."

"When we were here last time, I was told to aim for 40. Is that realistic?" I said.

"Well, y'know, we'd have to see. It's hard to say, really", he said,  in a really noncommittal way.

"Right well I want to know - if I come back here with a BMI of 40, will you be telling me to go away again
 until it's 35?", I pushed.

"In all honesty, I'd have to see you. Like I said, 25 is ideal, but if you were at that, we wouldn't be having this conversation because you wouldn't have the PCOS. Y'know, all of the symptoms of PCOS are reversible through weight loss", he said, glancing at my beard.

If it hadn't been for the fact that I was almost in tears because of the way he'd spoken to me, I would have corrected him. And given him a little extra piece of my mind. As it was, I was close to crying and / or punching him in the face, so I got my next appointment and walked out.

I got as far as the waiting room before the tears started. It was a relief, though, when Mr B exclaimed that "He was a cock", because I was worried that I was being overly sensitive.

He was a nasty, horrible man who took one look at me and decided it was my fault because I was fat. It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't actually think PCOS were a real condition - he obviously knows nothing about it and is far too arrogant to learn.

I spent most of the rest of the day in tears, and was still pretty delicate on Wednesday. But now I'm angry and determined to lose the weight.

I'm also going to look into the NHS Choices scheme, to see if I can refuse to see him again, or find a consultant that specialises in PCOS.

But, for now, the plan is to get back on it and prove him wrong.