The devil did not go down to Georgia. He is right here on my shoulder!

I suspect that the topic of this blog may be a theme for many of us 12wbt’ers. What on earth is with the six-week slump? As you may have gathered from my many hilarious and chuckle-inducing blogs, I have tried a lot of different weight loss programs. They have all been vastly different but one common thread joins them all in a most unholy matrimony. The dreaded six-week slump.

Seems no coincidence that self sabotage is the topic of this weeks mindset video does it? As someone who stood at the kitchen bench after work tonight eating half a loaf of freshly baked ciabatta bread, I can tell you that the devil is not prancing around Georgia looking for a soul to steal or engaging in a rather un-lord of darkness like violin battle. He is reclining on my right shoulder with a smug, carb fuelled smile on his face feeling quite content after a binge on plain bread. PLAIN BREAD!! What the hell is with that? I don’t even like bread as a rule.

I have found from my experience that somewhere around the halfway mark of a weight loss program or challenge I enter into this strange parallel universe where I literally turn into a doubting Thomas of downright biblical proportions. I doubt my fitness has improved even though the 8 hours I spent hauling heavy objects and busting my ass today felt much easier than it did 6 weeks ago. I doubt that my diet has been clean enough even though I know that I have followed my plan to the letter. I convince myself that a loaf of bread is going to remedy that when all it does is cause my initial doubt to become self-fulfilling prophecy. I doubt that I can feel any real benefits from quitting smoking even though I can tell quite clearly in the quality of my singing and my breath control alone that it has helped dramatically. Don’t despair though, even though I am doubting the quitting I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will never go back.

It’s the devil. The devil made me do it! The six-week slump lures him from the darkest depths of hell and invites him to sit on my shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. To test my resolve and see what I am made of. Well I may have him beat this time. After my carbo-loaded bread-a-palooza tonight, I realised that the wolf does indeed disguise himself in sheep’s clothing. The devil can sneak up on you and before you know it he has deck chair unfolded and cocktail in hand. Why do we let him do so much harm before we literally send him back to hell in a handbasket? Is it because whether we admit it or not, there is always a small part of us attracted to the bad boys, the rebel?

Maybe so, but herein lies my strategy. From here on in, when the devil drops by he will always take on the appearance of the worlds most unattractive man. Ladies and gentlemen, without further adieu…playing the role of ” Devil”…..Mick Jagger. Next time Mick Jagger tries to whisper in my ear that the fate of the western world depends on me eating that entire box of Krispy Kremes I will be far too grossed out by those big rubbery liver lips to want to eat anything. And if Mick goes on vacation? Steven Tyler, Step right up.

Right then Calorie King…How many calories in a Krispy Kreme then…Muhahahahaha >:)

There you have it…problem solvered. Oh, and for those of you wondering what the angel on my other shoulder looks like? That is Captain Jack Sparrow and if he wasnt;t spending so much time weaving about wondering why the rum was always gone then he might have been a little more effective in keeping the devil at bay and the bread out of my digestive system…..Just sayin Jack!

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How does one eat an elephant?

Answer: One bite at a time.

This may seem like a strange question but it is one that I have been asking myself frequently this week. It seems to fit into every daunting or challenging situation that life can throw at me and believe it or not, repeating the question to myself like a weird mantra actually does help.

As I surveyed the field of weeds that was my front yard yesterday, I realised that there was not going to be a quick solution to this problem. I shrugged my shoulders, asked myself the question and proceeded to chip away at the weeds, one weed at a time, one bite at a time. I didn’t think it would ever end but four hours later, I had finished. The weeds had been annihilated and the metaphorical elephant was nothing but a pile of bones left on the plate.

Upon further reflection, this question applies to me in so many ways when it concerns my weight loss. One bite at a time. For me a bite is a gram. My weight is chipping off one gram at a time. I wish I was one of those people who could say one kilo at a time like my husband but sadly I fear that will never be me. As he is plummeting towards 15 kilos lost I am still at the dreaded 5 kilo plateau. Nope, for me it is literally one gram at a time. And I will have to fight for every damn gram.

My weight loss journey has become a war. America has its war on terror and I have my war on fat. And as complex and insidious as terrorism is, I think it is a possibility we will see an end to that war before we see and end to mine. See, in my war, I sit in the trenches all week-long. My war strategies include calorie counting and a tough boot camp like training regimen. The enemy, the dreaded set of scales sits perched high on a hill in a valley in the distance. It displays no fear because it has no need to. The scales biggest weapon is truth. Truth in the numbers it displays.

All week-long I will launch my mini attacks on the scales. A 1 hour kickboxing workout, 400 calories burnt…BOOM, take that scales. Super Saturday Session, 1600 calories burnt and all muscle groups fried…BOOM, another scud sent in the direction of the enemy. Then briefly, every Wednesday, a cease-fire is called and I make a mad dash up the hill, into enemy territory and jump on those scales. Then I either bask in the glory of their truth or drown in the misery.

Today, I am losing the war. I have lost nothing. Not a single gram. Another victory for the enemy. Dejected, I hang my head and leave the room. Like all great wars, there are similarities in how the war is fought, why the war was begun and so on. This result on the scale is no stranger to me, it is history repeating itself. I lose 5 kilos. I stop. It is not that I stop training, or eating right, I just stop losing weight. Like after 5 kilos, It is all over red rover. Last time, I lost 5, it took 5 weeks. I then continued to train for another 5 weeks. Nothing happened for the last 5 weeks. Nothing lost, nothing gained. It is very easy to lose sight of your goals when this happens.

So I have some choices here. I can give up and go back to the way things were. Nope, not an option. I can continue even though I may never lose another gram. Not really an option either. You see, I have goals that I have set for myself. Things that I want to achieve and being 80 kilos, overweight with a double chin is not conducive with those goals. So it looks like I am going to have to adjust my strategy here. Don’t ask me what I am going to do, I have no clue yet.

For now I am shuffling back to the trenches to do bicep curls and start gnawing on the elephants leg again. One bite at a time right!

Elephant….the other white meat!

Shiny Happy People.

I wonder how my husband would react to the idea of an open relationship. Seems like an odd thing to ponder I know but the problem is that I have fallen in love. No, not like that. He doesn’t really have anything to worry about. The object of my new affections is a woman. One of the most amazing, inspirational women, for me at least.

She is strong and healthy. Philanthropic and involved. She takes my body to places it never knew it could go and just when I think I cannot stand the pain any longer, she manages to find a way to make me strive for more. She makes me hurt so much I want to curse her existence but just before I do, she releases me and makes me realise how truly powerful I am.

The woman I speak of is Jillian Michaels. Americas Toughest Trainer. You will know her as one of the original trainers on Americas Biggest Loser as well as first 2 seasons of Australia’s version of the show. I know the start of this blog makes me sound like some crazy fan girl, I’m not really, I was just playing with you dear readers…forgive me.

But seriously, this chick is fricken amazing and I am going to tell you why.

As far as personal trainers go, you will find many different methods of delivery. There are the boot camp, marine wannabe trainers who believe that the best way to get your clients to work is to shout and scream and belittle them. These are the ones who think that they have to break your spirit before they can break your bad habits. I do not respond to this style of training. I cannot justify spending money on 1 hour of being insulted. If I wanted that I would just find a group of teenagers to hang around for an hour.

There are the wannabe psychologists. You know, the ones who think a certificate 4 or diploma in fitness gives them adequate qualification to scramble around in your brains and drop many references to Freud and being orally fixated. Again, I do not respond to this type of training. My mother is a psychologist, with a hard earned, ridgy didge psychology degree. If I want someone to tell me that the reason why I over eat is because I didn’t get enough hugs as a child, it can be her.

Then there are the shiny happy people trainers. The ones who believe that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That sugary sweet motivational clichés are going to get the bowl of M&M’s off my lap and my ass running around the lake. It’s patronising and annoying and it doesn’t work for me. I didn’t like shiny happy people when REM sung about them and I definitely do not like them when they are trying to motivate me to train. I don’t want to be told that half a push up is a marvellous effort and that I should take a moment to reflect and be proud of what I have achieved. I want to be told that half a push up is fine but where the hell are the other 5 I was asked for.

This is why I love Jillian Michaels and also Michelle Bridges. They are real women with similar reality based training styles.. They call it how they see and are not afraid to call out an excuse when they hear one. This is the kind of training I respond to. Now don’t get me wrong. If you personally find the other styles more to your liking then go right ahead. This is just what works for me. I would need a trainer I can respect and there is no way I could respect a trainer that is so easily placated that they allow me to do half a crunch and then cry for 15 minutes about my self-esteem issues. Work out now…cry later. Crying doesn’t burn enough calories. You wanna run half a lap and have a cry about how fat your feet look in your new sneakers? Guess what? Crying won’t fix that, running the rest of that lap will.I need a trainer who can tell the difference between a ” I don’t feel like running anymore” sore knee and an actual ” my knee cap is about to literally fall off” injury. No one wants a trainer they can outsmart that easily. Otherwise it would just be a waste of money.

I love the fact that Jillian Michaels is relatable. She used to be fat. She has PCOS. She knows what it means to have to train three times harder than anyone else because of that hormonal condition. She can relate to us therefore we can relate to her. She doesnt yell and scream randomly, all she asks for is for you to bring your “A game”, every single time. To not cheat yourself out of being the best you can be. She teaches us that women can use weights and strength training to build a lean, strong but still feminine physique. In fact, it the only way that we can tone up our trouble zones. I see myself as a strong woman therefore I respond well to other strong women. This is what works for me.

An ass kicking for every training session, Monday to Saturday!

Yep, I would let Jillian Kick my ass any day of the week. Maybe it is because I can see a lot of parallels between her and me. She has PCOS, so do I. She is the same height as me so I can use her as inspiration in my weight loss and training. Something to strive towards. She used to be overweight and weigh the same as I do now. She is brutally honest and calls it how she sees it. Something I have been known for even though it may not be my most popular personality trait at times. It is at least my most consistent personality trait.

So If I had the opportunity to meet any celebrity in the whole entire world, who would I choose?

Johnny Depp of course…what! you think I’m crazy????

Barefoot in the kitchen…

So here we are, another Wednesday, another weigh-in. Of course the usual nerves came in to play as I have been so busy with doctors appointments and the like that my exercise was a little stunted this week. However, it turns out that this really is a mile-stone week for me! Not only have I lost weight but I am finally under 80 kilos for the first time in years. 79.8 kilos to be exact which is a loss of 5 kilos and 5 % of my total body weight. The measurements were also kind this morning showing a loss of 31 cm from my overall starting measurements.

But weight loss aside, the most exciting mile-stone of this week is that I have finally won a prize for the first time in my 31 years of life! I won, I won, I won ! ( picture much jumping up and down here ) This blog was nominated by so many of my loyal readers to be a contender for best blog for this round of the 12WBT and I was selected to win a prize for one of the top 20 nominated blogs. Thankyou so much everyone who nominated and whoever read my blog and selected it for the prize. Know that you have made my day 🙂

I have been under the assumption for many years that the exercise component of a weight loss plan was just as important if not more so than the eating. I have since learned this is not true especially since my exercise this week was lacklustre at best but my weigh in results were fabulous!Many of my fellow 12WBT’ers have found that due to an old injury or for some other reason, they have not been able to commit as fully to the exercise program as they would have liked so far. This has still not hindered their ability to lose weight when they step onto the scale for the Weekly Wednesday Weigh-in. Never fear readers, I am not about to go off on another long, boring scientific tangent about calorie deficits and all that jazz.

I believe I do know a less boring and scientific reason as to why this is possible though. Since starting this transformation I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have never in my entire life spent so much time in the kitchen. No more take away for me means one thing. Cooking. And more cooking means of course….more dishes. My god, the dishwasher is working day and night to keep up and even then I am still doing loads by hand to keep the benches clear of clutter. I am forever running out of cutlery and bowls and the stupid little re-usable plastic storage containers are driving me mental. They are like socks, once you wash them , the lids magically vanish and you never have a functioning pair again.

I cook breakfast. It creates dishes. I cook a separate breakfast for my daughter, more dishes. I prepare my husbands lunch to take to work. More dishes. I make my daughters lunch. More dishes. I make my own lunch. More dishes. Dont even get me started on dinner because by then I am ready to use every plate as a clay bird and invest in a paper plate company.

All I can say is thank god for the dishwasher…to a degree. The other half of the time I am cussing out the dishwasher. Because everyone who owns one of these machines knows as well as I do that the only time a dishwasher really washes the dishes properly is the very first time you use it. After it gets that initial little bit of grease and food waste in the pipes, it is never quite as good. And if you have other people living with you, especially teenagers, then chances are you have someone in the house with a severe aversion to actually putting anything in or taking anything out of the dishwasher. It is a common thing in my mother’s house, where there are still currently 2 teenagers in residence, to find an empty dishwasher and a sink full of glasses and plates. I swear I have even seen people eating food over the kitchen sink rather than bend over and get a clean plate out of the dishwasher. I sometimes wonder if we have a whole generation of teens born with some kind of degenerative spinal condition that prohibits them from doing menial tasks such as emptying dishwashers and bins, picking up clothes from the floor and hanging towels up after they have been used. Then again, drop a fifty dollar note and see how quick they get that spine flexing.

In my head this is what I look like whilst barefoot in the kitchen, the reality is quite different I am sure.

Anyway, I was in the kitchen today after a rather taxing workout. I had my shoes off as I have been experiencing extreme pain in my feet during exercise due to having the wrong type of sneakers for the job. Apparently not all sneakers are created equal and me choosing a pair because I liked the metallic pink stripes and have a weird Adidas fetish was not the best decision I have made recently. So I find myself in the kitchen with no shoes and I immediately thank my stars that I havent got the third criteria for that ever popular saying ” barefoot & pregnant in the kitchen.” It is here where I realise the secret to losing weight without having done the formal exercise.

Squat, Work the quadriceps as I bend down to get clean dishes out of the dishwasher. Press. Shoulder and Lattissimus Dorsi at work to lift that pile of plates into the cupboard over head. Lunge. Hamstrings and glutes get a go when I step lunge to get something in the cupboard under the sink. Pick up the cutlery basket. This is clearly a bicep curl. Bending down to reach ingredients in the bottom of the pantry is a rather effective dead lift. The truth is that even after the workout finishes, the exercise doesn’t stop until we are tucked up in bed, fast asleep. Then it all starts again the next day at breakfast.

So if you are finding for whatever reason that you are unable to exercise in the traditional sense for the time being. Chin up. As long as you stick to the nutrition plan exactly as it has been set out, you will have more than enough dishes to keep you toned and conditioned until such time as you can get back into the gym. And if you are worried you may not be doing enough even with your daily kitchen circuit training, get some teenagers to move in. It is just like adding weights to the equation. I reckon I might know of 2 that would fit the bill perfectly!

What’s for dinner honey?…..Sticks & leaves again dear.

I was doing a little book browsing in my local bookstore today. It is one of my favourite things to do when I have five blessed child free minutes to myself. I wander between aisles picking up any book that catches my eye. I flip to a random page and read for a while. If what I read catches my attention I carefully place the book back on the shelf and the proceed to go home and download it on my Kindle. Yeah Yeah, I know. I have blood on my hands from the closure of book stores all over the country if not the world. But guess what. I am not rich and I cannot afford to spend sometimes 3 times the amount for a book just because the local shop deemed it good enough to stock it on their shelves. I live in Regional Victoria. this means that we apparently have no need for the full range of variety offered to city dwellers. Better keep the range of literature scaled down to a couple of self-help books and 3 billion copies of ” 50 Shades” or else our country bumpkin brains might just explode.

As I weaved between genres I suddenly found myself standing in front of the health & well-being shelves. As I perused the many titles that lined these cases I was amazed by the amount of ” diet” books and the differences between each one. This is a topic I have touched on already in one of my stupendously hilarious blogs but my visit to the bookstore today re-affirmed what I already suspected to be true. When it comes to weight loss, the majority of us are desperate enough to try just about anything. What is worse is that seemingly intelligent people, like myself, fall for the familiar trap that ” if it has been published, it must be credible”. Not so my friends. It seems that anybody can write a book on any subject that they choose. No formal qualifications on the subject required. A half-formed opinion, a wing and a prayer is all that you need. So scratch my above comment. According to the range in the local bookstore, we must all be overweight, half-witted country folk with a penchant for sadomasochistic mummy porn. But lets move on before my publicly expressed hatred of the Fifty shades aberration takes over my blog the way that those books have taken over every retail outlet in town. Seriously, whats next…a free copy when we top up at the bowser?

So there were books there written by every trainer that has ever graced the gym at camp biggest loser. Apparently a stint on that show comes with a 3 book advance or something. There was a diet named after a man who supposedly lost weight by thinking himself thin whilst he ate what he wanted and meditated. I am all for the power of positive thinking but come on! The diet that says you can stuff yourself on as much meat and cheese as you like and still lose weight. Holy coronary artery disease Batman! Much to my surprise, Aitken was still there even though we all know what happened to him. There was another that claimed to lose masses of weight in 17 days. Doesnt the time period for the diets just get shorter and shorter. Soon we will be able to lose weight by doing the nano-second diet. Call me when that one comes out.

Another happy sticks & leaves diet customer

Then I found a book that really caught my attention. The sticks and leaves diet. That is not really its name but for the sake of copyright and avoiding defamation It will be referred to as such for the purposes of me making fun of it. Straight up I realised that this book was not suitable for religious persons, based on the fact that it worked on the evolutionary process of us becoming the men and women we are today from our previous simian like incarnations. For the teenagers out there, think of it in terms of iPhone 3 to iPhone 4s and now finally iPhone 5.

 

 

 

Apparently back when we were cave men, we did not become overweight. The reason was that we existed primarily on sticks and leaves and spent all of our time hunting and gathering said delights. The closest thing we had to fast food was trying not to become fast food for some swift, sabre toothed creature that found its way into our neighbourhood. Should have moved into that gated community after all. We expended vast amounts of energy on survival and finding enough to eat that we never had enough of a chance to come up with the Neanderthal’s biggest loser. I can’t help but think that if such show did exist the challenges would consist of seeing how long you could tread in the tar pits or temptation with little silver trays full of marinated mammoth steaks.

The idea is that even though we, as man, have evolved to the point of where we are now, our digestive systems have not so therefore we cannot be truly healthy until we go back to a diet of sticks and leaves and berries and such. I imagine two apes named Cecil and Cyril doing lunch at the Ivy. The main topic of conversation is whether they should order a main course each or simply share the Southern Style Stick Sampler. Dipping sauce on the side of course.

For followers of the sticks & leaves diet, this is called a buffet.

I guess there is some merit to the idea that we have become so very misguided when it comes to our nutrition and what is good for our bodies. There would be some fragment of merit to all of those diet books in fact. One tiny, well concealed scientific fact. I would hazard a guess that the ratio of those books would be 1 % scientific fact, 99 % half cocked, dangerously convincing personal opinion.

In the local paper today I read an article about a local gym that now has a cafe to cater for what they called ” the latte set” after their workouts. Excuse me, but if you can gracefully sit and sip a caramel latte immediately after your workout without dripping sweat all over the table and the others seated nearby, you need to get back in there. You didn’t work hard enough! The new cafe serves only meals approved by the sticks and leaves diet. The chef, a follower of the diet believes in it so strongly that he will cook nothing but it’s recipes. I wonder how the “latte set” are going to feel about a twig on their saucer rather than the lovely little biscotti they were expecting.

All I can say is that I am so very glad that I figured it all out before I spent another ill-fated dollar on any more of those books. Most importantly, I am relieved that I got my act together before I was reduced to foraging in my backyard for a meal of red gum bark and scoria. I’ve heard scoria does nothing good for your teeth.

The results are in…

Another day, another doctors appointment. As promised, I am back to divulge the results of my battery of tests. For those of you new to my blog I will briefly recap. A couple of weeks ago, with a few things weighing on my mind, I decided that if I was going to go through this 12 week body transformation I should go to the doctors and get tested. This was all in the spirit of accountability.

I marched in to the doc’s office, sat down and confessed my sins. Much to the doctors surprise. I think back now and realise that on most days he would be subjected to patients playing down their bad habits and fibbing about how many times they hit the drive through burger joint in a week or how many cigarettes they truly smoked in a day. It was probably pretty uncommon for a patient to come in and announce in a grand fashion that they had spent the last ten years smoking like a train and eating a steady diet of take away. But that was me, I left nothing out. I let him know just how unhealthy I had been and then let him know that I had committed to change. I had committed to changing my diet, I had quit smoking, I had committed to a life of fried food abstinence, I had committed to a life of un-processed and organic foods. Most of all, I had committed to getting my life back. In order for me to really throw myself head first into this new life, I needed to know what I was dealing with beyond the numbers on the scale and the measurement of my thighs.

This committment to medical clarity involved a barrage of tests, most involving large needles and countless vials of blood. Others involved various x-rays and ultrasounds. In short, in the last week I have been poked, prodded, drained, scanned, pushed, pulled, you name it , I have been through it. And finally, drum roll please, I have the results.

I do not have high blood pressure or high cholesterol.

I do not have any lung conditions or damage from smoking.

I do not have cancer, the needle biopsy of the lump in my neck came back normal.

I do not have any heart conditions from smoking or obesity.

My change in diet has already started to improve my PCOS, bringing my hormones nearly back into a normal range.

I do not have any problems with my thyroid function.

Now, that is the good news out-of-the-way. Here is the bad news which I also consider good news. I am NOT a hypochondriac. After years and years of pain and fatigue and discomfort, I was about ready to give up on ever knowing what was really going on. But my new super doctor has finally given me an answer.

I have Fibromyalgia, a chronic pain and fatigue condition. So basically, for a fat person, I am actually pretty healthy. At this stage I am going to live a long life. The only catch , and there is always a catch, is that it is going to be a life filled with pain. Don’t get me wrong, I am not wallowing for a minute. If anyone can deal with this, it is me. I have a huge pain tolerance. I believe this is partly because I have been in pain for such a large portion of my life that I don’t really know anything else. So that is the deal. I am not just lazy, there is an actual medical reason for my fatigue. And as much as that would seem like an invitation to go back to bed, it just makes me even more determined to get up and do that workout.

So know I know what I am working with. Because the 12WBT was not challenge enough, I have the added challenge of chronic pain and fatigue.

Think I am giving up? No way baby. All this means is that the weight I have already lost is even more of an accomplishment. I am going to finish the next 12 weeks strong…tired and sore…but strong. Now where is that damn kettlebell. I have a workout to complete.

Committment-Phobic? Not this little black free-range, organic duck!

This week has seen a lot of committing on my behalf to a lot of different things. You will already be aware that I have committed to a full medical work up, the results of which will not be available until the Wednesday blog. I have also committed to a kick-boxing workout every day this week. I figured that I have been threatening those around me with a swift kick up the behind for long enough, it is time I actually learned how to deliver it effectively and with the least chance of injury to myself possible.

I have committed this blog to the 12WBT best blogger competition. Do I have what it takes to be a winner? I would like to think so, but it is my blog. I am biased of course. I am both pleasantly surprised and touched by the amount of nominations I received. I knew someone was reading but it is always fabulous to know they are enjoying it as well.

Organic produce: What it lacks in aesthetics it makes up for in taste. I hope!

I have committed myself to eating organically. Well at least 95% organically because living in regional Victoria still places some limitations on what is available to me. Apparently all of the hippies have moved to the city so there is no need for that much organic produce here in country bumpkin land. For the record, I do not consider the little crates of fruit and veg found out the front of someone’s house to be organic produce. Yeah, it may be home-grown but you have no idea what is going on in that soil. I mean, they could own like 40 cats that all use that particular veggie patch as a litter box so yeah…I’ll pass on the cheap roadside pumpkins thanks.

This is a big committment because it equals a drastically higher grocery bill. I am doing it in the interest of trying to control my PCOS. My theory is that the chemicals used in conventional farming contribute to the disruption of hormones. For someone like me with extremely confused hormones already, this could be catastrophic especially when it comes to weight loss. So this will be the first week of organic-a-thon in my house and cheers to a number of 2 or 3 at the weigh in next week. I mean kilos, not grams!

You really do have to watch those organic stores too. Sneaky little hippy’s. Don’t let the patchwork and tie dye fool ya. This is business and the all mighty dollar reigns supreme. This particular store I visited this week had 2 separate stands of produce. I thought $10 a kilo for broccoli was expensive and I was not that surprised being organic and all. When I noticed that the other side also had broccoli for $13 a kilo I wondered what was the difference. I found a Cheech or Chong look-alike ( I never can remember which one is which) and asked. The $10 broccoli was not organic. It was regular just twice the price of the bloody supermarket across the road. I then went to the asian food section only to be confronted by shelves full of the same stuff you buy at Coles. All of it non-organic. Go figure.

 

After all of that, I ended up leaving with about $13 of broccoli, took out a mortgage for a kilo of organic bananas and traded my first-born for some organic bread at a tidy $8.50 per teeny tiny loaf. I do believe my first-born child was worth more than $8.50 but I had no more collateral on me and it is really important I get a good result at next weeks weigh in. Sorry baby. I’m sure the hippies will take good care of you. I just hope they remember that you are not allowed to smoke peyote until after you have eaten all of your vegetables, organically grown I assume.

I have also committed to going green. This does not mean that I am boycotting showers from now on just that I am going to do my bit to try to reduce plastic bottles in landfill. I bought some water filter pump bottles today which I can fill from the tap and have purified water for about 3 months before the filters need replacing. I bought a few so I can have water in every room of the house. No dehydration under my roof! I also need to have them close at hand as I am going blind slowly and need to not have to look far for a bottle with my deteriorating eyesight. The reason for my failing vision is my green pledge and the changing over to energy-saving light bulbs. They may be better for the environment but I cannot see shit.

In all seriousness though, the new bottles are great. I am really enjoying the taste or lack of taste rather of the filtered water. So much so that I think I have had about 3 litres today easily. I am certain that for every litre I drink, I pee out 2 therefore meaning that I should just about be at my goal weight by next weigh-in. Severely dehydrated but really really skinny! Good thing I bought the environmentally friendly toilet paper. It is great that we can use the stringy bark that falls off of gum trees to wipe our bums now.

So there it is…my transformation from overweight, chain-smoking, junk food inhaling planet polluter into a slightly less overweight, organic loving, bark bum wiping, water filtering hippy. Haha, I am pretty sure I just lost all of my friends. Good thing I am friends with the environment now. I wonder how the conversation will be though? After all, If a hippy speaks to a tree in the forest but no sane, reasonable person is around to hear it, does the tree speak back? Of course not, the hippy just thinks it does because of all the pot he smoked for breakfast.