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The Xena Project
Week 13
Days without sugar: 30
Why does she have her shirt rolled up like that? OMG, what a poser. Is that all the weight he's going to lift? Just five minutes on the treadmill! He watched himself in the mirror that whole time. This chick is clueless.
I went to the gym last night, outside class, just to work out. I have to say that I was completely out of place. I felt so illegitimate amongst all those heavenly bodies all pushing, sculpting, posing and scoping ... yes scoping everyone else out. I hadn't realised how intense the culture of comparison was, never noticed until I found myself at the gym without a trainer or a friend to distract me.
There's an immense difference between the public sector gym downstairs and the private gym I now go to. At work, there are a couple of gods and goddesses, but it's pretty much a group normal people wearing baggy clothes to hide their baggy thighs. They huff and puff on the equipment. Their faces go red. Their hair sticks out at funny angles.
At the private gym, the ratio of divinity to normality is intimidating. Is there such a thing as designer sweat? How much straining of those thick, corded muscles under thin fabric can a girl take before she disappears into the ladies' workout room to catch her breath? How much of that tanned, toned, tiny outfitted posturing can a girl take before she trips into the cardio section to pound her self esteem back into shape?
I've never felt so observed before, so self-conscious. The gym is its own nation with a fashion, culture and language. I was a stranger in a strange land and I'm sure they could spot the tourist from across the room. I wonder, do I have the courage to stick it out long enough to turn ex-pat in gymland?
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Week 12 - Day 96
The Xena Project
Week 12 - Day 96
Days without sugar: 24
Many of you think I'm crazy. Somehow I feel like I'm the lucky one. I get up at the crack of dawn and work out hard in the fresh morning air. I find it easy now. I jump to wakefulness instead of slowly swimming through the groggy black seas to hush my bleating alarm clock with a heavy thwack.
It has its downside, though. Last weekend after a late night out dancing, I sank into bed at 2am. At 5am, my flatmate found herself stranded in the valley and rang home in distress. I drove in, picked her up and then tried my very best to go back to sleep.
Only, my body had other ideas.
Waking up at 5am meant one thing. BOOTCAMP! The fact that it was Sunday, the fact that I'd only gone to bed a few hours before and the fact that I clearly wasn't doing pushups, burpees or sandbag weighted squats was totally lost on my body. A 5am wakeup meant exercise endorphins and that was that.
Still, it's better to greet the day with energy and expectation ...
Week 12 - Day 96
Days without sugar: 24
Many of you think I'm crazy. Somehow I feel like I'm the lucky one. I get up at the crack of dawn and work out hard in the fresh morning air. I find it easy now. I jump to wakefulness instead of slowly swimming through the groggy black seas to hush my bleating alarm clock with a heavy thwack.
It has its downside, though. Last weekend after a late night out dancing, I sank into bed at 2am. At 5am, my flatmate found herself stranded in the valley and rang home in distress. I drove in, picked her up and then tried my very best to go back to sleep.
Only, my body had other ideas.
Waking up at 5am meant one thing. BOOTCAMP! The fact that it was Sunday, the fact that I'd only gone to bed a few hours before and the fact that I clearly wasn't doing pushups, burpees or sandbag weighted squats was totally lost on my body. A 5am wakeup meant exercise endorphins and that was that.
Still, it's better to greet the day with energy and expectation ...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Week 11 - Day 90
The Xena Project
Week 11 - Day 90
Days without sugar: 18
When I was little, I used to mistake a lot of things for being hungry.
"Mum, I'm hungry."
"You can't be."
"But I am!"
"You're probably just bored. Go outside and play."
I'd consider this for a few seconds. "I don't have anything to doooo-w!" (The w is for whinge).
A bright idea strikes my mother.
"Go tidy your room."
Now that I'm not eating sugar and, more importantly not delaying gratification, I'm super aware of the moments I'd usually dive for sweets. I'm seeing all the trip wires and triggers on the bad food battlefield.
Last week at Riverfire, I lined up for a bottle of water. In front of me, people bought hotdogs, softdrinks and icecreams. Man, those icecreams looked good! Any other time, I'd have changed my mind and bought sugar instead of water but I realised something. Those white whipped, choc topped, sprinkle covered portals to momentary heaven only looked good because they were cold and wet. I was thirsty. Once I'd downed a gulp or two of water, the icecream lost its appeal.
For a few weeks now, I've had to work back late to get everything done. It was 6:30pm and I was SO hungry. The charity chocolate boxes are everywhere in my office, strewn carelessly like candy landmines. Real food seemed too far away and damn, those chocolates looked good ... but only because I was hungry. Once I had dinner, the temptation faded like a bad dream in the sun.
Working back late has really worn me out. If it weren't for coffee and personal resolve, I'd be face down on my desk with a small puddle of drool at one side of my mouth. It's these times that I go for the cafe breakfasts and the stodgy hokkien noodle takeaways. Energy and comfort in one unwholesome bundle. What I really need is to take time out, tune out and maybe catch a few zzz's.
These are my trip wires. When temptation comes, I have to ask myself am I thirsty, hungry, or just tired?
Oh, and I still need to tidy my room :-(
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Week 13 - Day 87
The Xena Project
Week 13 - Day 87
Days without sugar: 15
Happy dance! The scales retreated this morning, giving up precious ground and displaying a lesser set of digits.
Honestly, has there ever been another time in history when, at such magnitude and vehemence, people have battled their own bodies? There are full scale hostilities going on out there and I've been conscripted. It's the war of the waistline and my arse is the axis of evil. Fat is the enemy. It must be stopped. There are terrorist sugar cells lurking in every meal. It's a daily guerilla warfare to sniff out the carbs, flush out the toxins and target those ABTs.
Make no mistake, it IS a battle and the enemy fights dirty. The rules of engagement are different for every solider. Take my flatmate, for instance. She lives almost entirely off processed carbs during the day and frozen, prepackaged meals at night. Yet, she sports the most incredible leggy figure imaginable.
So, you're in the situation room with me and this is my plan of attack. I'm back on the bootcamp wagon PLUS personal training once a week. I'm rejecting all those meeting bribe lollipops and tempting cafe breakfasts. In your earnest and learned opinion, how much longer can the scales can defend their line against such an onslaught?
Week 13 - Day 87
Days without sugar: 15
Happy dance! The scales retreated this morning, giving up precious ground and displaying a lesser set of digits.
Honestly, has there ever been another time in history when, at such magnitude and vehemence, people have battled their own bodies? There are full scale hostilities going on out there and I've been conscripted. It's the war of the waistline and my arse is the axis of evil. Fat is the enemy. It must be stopped. There are terrorist sugar cells lurking in every meal. It's a daily guerilla warfare to sniff out the carbs, flush out the toxins and target those ABTs.
Make no mistake, it IS a battle and the enemy fights dirty. The rules of engagement are different for every solider. Take my flatmate, for instance. She lives almost entirely off processed carbs during the day and frozen, prepackaged meals at night. Yet, she sports the most incredible leggy figure imaginable.
So, you're in the situation room with me and this is my plan of attack. I'm back on the bootcamp wagon PLUS personal training once a week. I'm rejecting all those meeting bribe lollipops and tempting cafe breakfasts. In your earnest and learned opinion, how much longer can the scales can defend their line against such an onslaught?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Week 12 - Day 83
The Xena Project
Week 12 - Day 83
Days without sugar: 12
You know you've had a good workout when:
You have trouble bending your arms backwards to do the clasp on your bra.
You're afraid to apply mascara in case your shaking hands poke out an eye.
You go to press the elevator button for your floor... and miss.
This is what boxing class does to a person! I went a class earlier this week, bringing my gloves from their lonesome closet exile. They haven’t gone back to the cupboard either. I hung them up near my desk at work so they’re always ready to use.
“Will this give people the wrong idea about me, do you think?” I asked a colleague.
“They’ll give you what you want,” she answered drily.
Unfortunately, exercise has gone by the wayside this month. The workplace is insidious that way. It’s exhausting and stressful; a recipe for jitters and no sleep. Having a free gym doesn’t help as much as it should. It feels like work by association. I can leave for work stupidly early, keep missing lunchtime workouts from meetings going over time, or leave work stupidly late. At the end of long and frustrating day, I just want to go home!
So, with the best intentions, I joined the local gym. How many people donate to their gym, I wonder? It is the mecca of best intentions. Hand on my heart though, I guarantee you’ll lose weight ... if only from your wallet and not your thighs.
Like all things in life, it’s up to me. Will my credit card pay for a donation or a fee for service? Or, put another way, what time was that body combat class again?
Week 12 - Day 83
Days without sugar: 12
You know you've had a good workout when:
You have trouble bending your arms backwards to do the clasp on your bra.
You're afraid to apply mascara in case your shaking hands poke out an eye.
You go to press the elevator button for your floor... and miss.
This is what boxing class does to a person! I went a class earlier this week, bringing my gloves from their lonesome closet exile. They haven’t gone back to the cupboard either. I hung them up near my desk at work so they’re always ready to use.
“Will this give people the wrong idea about me, do you think?” I asked a colleague.
“They’ll give you what you want,” she answered drily.
Unfortunately, exercise has gone by the wayside this month. The workplace is insidious that way. It’s exhausting and stressful; a recipe for jitters and no sleep. Having a free gym doesn’t help as much as it should. It feels like work by association. I can leave for work stupidly early, keep missing lunchtime workouts from meetings going over time, or leave work stupidly late. At the end of long and frustrating day, I just want to go home!
So, with the best intentions, I joined the local gym. How many people donate to their gym, I wonder? It is the mecca of best intentions. Hand on my heart though, I guarantee you’ll lose weight ... if only from your wallet and not your thighs.
Like all things in life, it’s up to me. Will my credit card pay for a donation or a fee for service? Or, put another way, what time was that body combat class again?
Monday, September 7, 2009
Week 12 - Day 78
The Xena Project
Week 12 - Day 78
Kgs lost: 4
Days without sugar: 7
Hi, my name is Laura and I’m a sugarholic. Today I am one week clean *pauses for polite applause and murmurs of approval/support*.
Sugar is addictive. Yeah, yeah. It’s not much of a headline. We’ve known that for years. If you’re a female, you’ve joked about chocoholics anonymous. If you’re a guy, you’ve wondered what the big deal is about choc chip peppermint ice-cream, microwave popcorn or her copious weeping over a bag of sour cream and onion chips (thin style).
I want it down for the record that I am not on a diet. I’m not swapping stories about cutting carbs or dairy intake and not discussing the pros and cons of Tony Ferguson. I’m not eating salads for dinner or popping metabolism booster pills.
It’s true that eating sugar makes you want more sugar. It even makes you eat more food in general. It makes you put on weight and is a major contributing factor to all sorts of health problems. Yet it’s not the chemical addiction that makes it so insidious.
I’m actually on an emotional diet. I ate sugar when I was tired. I ate it when I had a headache and needed to wake up at work. I ate it when stressed. I ate it when unhappy. I ate it to treat myself. I ate it to punish myself. The momentary buzz of sugar was a relief and a burden, an escape and a prison. THAT is true addiction.
So, I’m not denying myself something I feel I really should have. I’m not doing it for a month or so to look killer in that little red dress. I’m taking ownership of my life, my heart, and my waist all at once.
Maybe this is why I haven’t craved.
Week 12 - Day 78
Kgs lost: 4
Days without sugar: 7
Hi, my name is Laura and I’m a sugarholic. Today I am one week clean *pauses for polite applause and murmurs of approval/support*.
Sugar is addictive. Yeah, yeah. It’s not much of a headline. We’ve known that for years. If you’re a female, you’ve joked about chocoholics anonymous. If you’re a guy, you’ve wondered what the big deal is about choc chip peppermint ice-cream, microwave popcorn or her copious weeping over a bag of sour cream and onion chips (thin style).
I want it down for the record that I am not on a diet. I’m not swapping stories about cutting carbs or dairy intake and not discussing the pros and cons of Tony Ferguson. I’m not eating salads for dinner or popping metabolism booster pills.
It’s true that eating sugar makes you want more sugar. It even makes you eat more food in general. It makes you put on weight and is a major contributing factor to all sorts of health problems. Yet it’s not the chemical addiction that makes it so insidious.
I’m actually on an emotional diet. I ate sugar when I was tired. I ate it when I had a headache and needed to wake up at work. I ate it when stressed. I ate it when unhappy. I ate it to treat myself. I ate it to punish myself. The momentary buzz of sugar was a relief and a burden, an escape and a prison. THAT is true addiction.
So, I’m not denying myself something I feel I really should have. I’m not doing it for a month or so to look killer in that little red dress. I’m taking ownership of my life, my heart, and my waist all at once.
Maybe this is why I haven’t craved.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Week 11 - Day 74
The Xena Project
Week 11 - Day 74
Kgs lost: 4
Days without sugar: 3
It's day 3 without sugar and I haven't actually craved it yet. For sure, I got to 3 o'clock yesterday and looked around for something to snack on ... but that's habit more than withdrawal. I went into a meeting this afternoon and there was a plate of bikkies right under my nose. I very nearly took one until I remembered - I don't do that anymore! If anything is going to trip me up, it'll be habit. I'm in the danger zone right now. I don't know how long it will last.
There is a look of unparalleled horror on people's faces when I tell them what I've done. I must be a fruitloop... except fruitloops are full of sugar. There's more people wagering that I won't make it past Christmas, let alone Easter, than there are those who respect what I'm doing and will support me.
It's true though, in a way. Our culture is so totally saturated with sugar. I no sooner breathe in than I'm ingesting the stuff. It's freely on offer at meetings and training sessions and the little bowl at the counter where I get my coffee. Yesterday, two local admin staff wheeled around a 10kg block of Cadbury through the office. It was about as big and thick as the average workplace desktop. They were selling tickets for the CEO Challenge, yes, the very same fundraiser for which I began this whole Xena nonsense!
Yet, I am determined. I will prevail.
Not getting those 3x weekly wipeout sessions at bootcamp has left me with a lot of excess energy. I've been excessively restless and strange because of it. Last night, I went with a friend to his gym but it unfortunately reminded me why I don't like gyms. It was a big auditorium packed with sweat machines where exercise was reduced to a mass production system... like cattle. Our food is mass produced for efficiency, so why not exercise too?
I may just crack and go back to bootcamp. Good heavens, did anyone think I'd ever say that?
Week 11 - Day 74
Kgs lost: 4
Days without sugar: 3
It's day 3 without sugar and I haven't actually craved it yet. For sure, I got to 3 o'clock yesterday and looked around for something to snack on ... but that's habit more than withdrawal. I went into a meeting this afternoon and there was a plate of bikkies right under my nose. I very nearly took one until I remembered - I don't do that anymore! If anything is going to trip me up, it'll be habit. I'm in the danger zone right now. I don't know how long it will last.
There is a look of unparalleled horror on people's faces when I tell them what I've done. I must be a fruitloop... except fruitloops are full of sugar. There's more people wagering that I won't make it past Christmas, let alone Easter, than there are those who respect what I'm doing and will support me.
It's true though, in a way. Our culture is so totally saturated with sugar. I no sooner breathe in than I'm ingesting the stuff. It's freely on offer at meetings and training sessions and the little bowl at the counter where I get my coffee. Yesterday, two local admin staff wheeled around a 10kg block of Cadbury through the office. It was about as big and thick as the average workplace desktop. They were selling tickets for the CEO Challenge, yes, the very same fundraiser for which I began this whole Xena nonsense!
Yet, I am determined. I will prevail.
Not getting those 3x weekly wipeout sessions at bootcamp has left me with a lot of excess energy. I've been excessively restless and strange because of it. Last night, I went with a friend to his gym but it unfortunately reminded me why I don't like gyms. It was a big auditorium packed with sweat machines where exercise was reduced to a mass production system... like cattle. Our food is mass produced for efficiency, so why not exercise too?
I may just crack and go back to bootcamp. Good heavens, did anyone think I'd ever say that?
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