Robin vs Priscilla, Round III

She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say ‘when!’ ~ PG Wodehouse

Yep. I’m back on my ubiquitous Robin-of-Sherwood-meets-Priscilla-Queen-of-the-Desert topic again. Concerning which there have been too many posts, I know, but until I figure out which one of you bastards made me fat how to take responsibility for my sweet tooth, then I think I’m stuck here in porky-pig land forever.

In case you’ve been lucky enough to miss my previous angst: essentially, I started life terribly thin, got chubby, got chubbier, got thin, got awful chubby, got thin very fast, stayed thin for years, met Hairy Hubby, stopped smoking, got chubby, got married, got awful chubby again, had Harry, and have been firmly parked in the 14.5 -15.5 stone region ever since. My Gynae now wants to plonk me on an operating table and furrage about my reproductive bits (I have two wombs. Yes. You read that right.) in order to get a better picture of why I am so dreadful at staying pregnant, but I also have a back-to-front heart, so there isn’t a sensible Anaesthetist in the whole of Christendom who is going to perform elective general anesthesia on a woman with wonky cardiac structure and a BMI above 35.

The Wifey, they said at the end of February, must diet.

I was, in February, 40lbs in excess of a BMI of 29.9, which I must achieve in order to have a scalpel waved in my general direction. And I want this surgery, I really do. By the time March rolled round I had joined the gym, I was focussed, I was All Set.  Then I promptly became unexpectedly pregnant – and began to miscarry almost before the pee had dried on the stick. Oddly, this put me off my weight-loss stroke a little. Then came Easter, during which I fought a broadly-ineffectual rearguard battle in my consumption of  good old Cadbury’s glass-and-a-half, which ballsed it all up even further.

Anyhoo. The weekend before last, I got on the scales and burst into anguished tears, as I’d had a reasonably – I thought! – austere week that had cruelly and unaccountably translated into a whole gained lb. I spent a few sniffling, mournful hours trawling the websites of various purveyors of weight-shifting snakeoil and the shakiest of crash diets, but in the end, the common British sense (that I never seem to quite manage to shake off. Melodrama FAIL, every time.) prevailed: I texted my good buddy, and joined her at her Fat Fighters class on Tuesday nights. It’s a sensible, achievable, diet plan, and I augmented it with 3 trips to the gym last week.

Tonight, I was Slimmer of the Week (or would have been, if it weren’t for some pettifogging rule about losing for two weeks on the trot. Bah!) and was down 4.5 lbs. I have 32lbs of my 40lbs to go. 

I have shifted 3 stone in 3 months in the past by eating sensibly and exercising my arse off, so I have optimistically set my sights on hitting a BMI of 29.9 in time for her wedding celebrations on 3rd July, with surgery hopefully to follow shortly afterwards. It means losing 4lbs a week, every week, but short of something drastic keeping me out of the gym, I don’t see why I can’t do it. If I want another baby, success is my only option. Failure’s not.

*grits teeth*

On the topic of babies: big baby had his scheduled EEG today. I was lugubriously expecting a goat rodeo, but I took the laptop and a hoarded Shaun the Sheep DVD along, which transfixed him to such an extent that he made only token helicopter-in-trouble flailings when the electrodes were attached, and proceeded to sit, relaxed and slack-jawed, whilst I watched his brain waves play out on the technician’s computer screen.

This was indescribably peculiar to see. Naturally, the readings went mad if he physically shifted position, but at one point, whilst sat perfectly still, Harry smiled slightly in amusement – and one of the traces went haywire. At this point, I started having my usual blown-totally-away-by-clever-science ‘we put a man on the moon AND we can see into people’s heads with a length of wire, funky software and a dab of conductive gel!’ type thoughts.

Awesome. Truly. Now we just have to stew until mid-June for our next Paed’s appointment to find out the result.

At which appointment, God damn and blast my wretched fucking weight, I will be thinner. I will.

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24 Responses

  1. Have fingers crossed for positive progress on all fronts.

  2. I will attempt to not violate your dietary plans on both the Hay do and the wedding. No promises, mind.

    And I am cheering for you. How could I not when you throw in random Eminem quotes?

  3. Three stone in three months with diet and exercise is absolutely incredible.

    Consider me a cheer-leader for the cause.

    Go Wifey! GO!

    xxx

    B

  4. Supporting you all the way too. I expect it will be quite tough but I am sure you can do it.

  5. “Do, or do not. There is no try.”

    Should’ve posted that yesterday for maximum geek-out.

    My last two miscarriages have given me half-a-stone back I really didn’t want, and am now MILES away from IVF weight AGAIN. Am still horrified by the unfairness of the Universe – you mean if I sit on my arse and eat ice-cream in order to reach carbohydrate-induced narcolepsy and avoid anxiety attacks, I’ll GET FATTER? How dare this happen! How dare it! Don’t they know I’m ALLOWED to wallow and overeat now? Gah.

    My dear, you are very brave and wonderful and lovely regardless of the size of your trousers. I hope very much this will be easy and doable for you, and your bravery and grit will pay out fabulously.

    (I know. Exercise. I hate it so much I’ve sprained my knee so I don’t have to. Do as I say, not as I do).

    • There is no try! That’s it exactly! I’m either in the zone – and I rock the zone – or I’m an abject failure.

      The hardest thing is always learning that my waistline doesn’t deduct calaories for genuine misery.

  6. Another coup for Shaun! That’s good news.

    I share your passion for Cadbury’s. Ah yes. Chhhooocolate. Have only just barely and by a whisker weaned myself off the dark stuff since Easter myself, I am feeling your pain. Three trips to gym, I am impressed. 4lbs in a week! That is a LOT.

    I must now oblige myself to go gym-ward. Like, soon.
    Thanks for the inspiration.

  7. That is amazing, I am in awe, seriously, 3 stone in 3 months is seriously good going.

  8. I so, so hear you. And wish you nothing but dietary success. ‘Cos the fat stuff? It loves me too.

  9. The father/son picture knocks me out. From that angle the resemblance is gorgeous.

    • OH! Oh MY! That is the first time I have ever been able to see a proper resemblance! I wish we had a fiver for everyone who has confidently assured us that Harry is the spit of John, but J & I just haven’t been able to see it at all. But now you say it… yes. Peas in a hairy pod!

  10. Whoops, hit post before I meant to. I was going to rhapsodize particularly about the hairline and jawline. Genetics. Amazing.

    Also amazing: Your progress! You are made of mighty, mighty stuff, lady.

  11. Ugh. Exercise. And limiting chocolate consumption. Why must life be so difficult?

    So glad Harry cooperated with his EEG – I find myself staring slack-jawed at Shaun the Sheep too. I think it’s my favorite.

    (Chuckling at Yoda/May up there…which, oddly enough, sounds like a name I would expect to encounter in the Southern US.)

  12. Excellent job at the weight loss and the exercising. And if you find that you have more hunger on the days after the exercising, there was a recent article in the New York Times about how women tend to have more hunger after exercise due to the body’s desire to hold onto fat so that we can keep our stores for childbearing. I read this after starving myself during my new weight loss plan and my new 5 miles on the treadmill daily routine. I wanted to cry as I was so hungry, and I had never been hungry on this diet before, it all made sense, bugger the female genes, we don’t always need those extra pounds!
    Here is the article as it is very interesting, http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/18/magazine/18exercise-t.html
    Anyway, it makes for an interesting read, and I am still on the treadmill.

  13. ~cheers of support from over here~

    If you would like something in the exercise category to keep active with on the days you can’t get to the gym, I am using the 30-day shred and loving it, because I can usually persuade myself to do 20 minutes of exercise. If you’d like to sample it, just email me.

    /possible assvice.

  14. You have my utter sympathy. However, on a positive note, the only diet I’ve ever managed to a) stick to and b) which worked was Slimming World and I lost about two stone in two months, so it is entirely possible. And you will do it. I know you will.xx

  15. Well done on slimmer of the week, just do it again and the title will be rightfully yours!

  16. Step away from the chocolate biscuits! And why are you not at the gym? *stern look*

    In all seriousness. Good luck! Well done so far! Go go go!

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