In a new weekly feature, Her.ie newbie Liz is going to share her weight loss journey. She'll be filling you in on fighting temptation, her willpower struggles with the cocktail menu and taking painfully slow steps towards regular exercise. All in the name of a dress.
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Hanging on the wall at the end of my bed is the constant reminder I plan on shedding nearly two stone this year. I also plan on marking the trials and tribulations of ‘trying to be good’ – the favourite saying we all tout, and quickly replace when a cake is put in front of us.
Week 12: Making a meal out of maths
This week did not get off to the best of starts. I had my weigh in and I was definitely not a happy camper.
I was up a pound, and I really had no idea how.
I was eating to the plan, I was counting my points for my treats and I was certainly wishing I’d had the chipper the night before that I had somewhat smugly turned down. How was this even possible?
I wish I could say I took the gain gracefully, but there may have been (most definitely was) a bit of a sulk. My leader, ever the patient saint - who I’m sure thinks I’m a step away from the crazy train as each week passes by - asked me had I been tracking in my food diary.
I was honest with her, and told her I hadn’t always brought the diary with me, but I’d been keeping track on scraps of paper in work and was bringing it home to fill in the diary each evening. She told me to take a seat and we’d go over them after class together.
Mary wasn’t even there for some mammy-hugging comfort. I just had to accept that I was doomed to reach my deadline. Have I mentioned I was feeling a little dramatic post weight-loss flop? I swear if it was a black and white movie, Charlie Chaplin would have been doing some very overly animated wiping of tears in my direction.
So I sat there letting my group leader talk us through her tips for the week and after class she came down to my seat to go through my notes. This will make me feel better. She’ll clearly see I’m being saintly in my healthy eating ways. At least that’s what I was hoping would happen…
“Ok, sorry I haven’t got my glasses, what have you written there after your breakfast of eggs.”
So off I went on my tangent:
“Apple, blueberries. Packet of popcorn. Bottle of diet 7-up, cupcake…”
She stopped me right there. I knew a cupcake was on the naughty list, but hey, I’d listed it. I was guilt free. Disband the jury, I’d held my hands up.
She was patient but she had that knowing look. God I hate it when you know someone is about to tell you something you
really don’t want to hear:
“Ok, so look there’s no problem having your cake, and eating it too. But where did you get the value of it being 8?”
So I told her about my genius plan of looking up forums for points values when I didn’t know myself. This is where I got a bit of a shock. She explained that there were more than one type of points system, people calculated points differently, and it was almost impossible to get an exact match for bakery goods unless it was in a packet with the nutritional guide.
The cupcake I’d eaten was more likely 15 points. I felt my tummy drop (not in the weight loss kind of way), and then it all dawned on me. There WAS a reason I was up this week. I had been tracking, but in a sense-free kind of way.
It was like being back in school and trying to explain to the teacher how you DID study for the test, you just happened to have studied all the wrong stuff.
She gave me a little term for my trial and errors – guesstimating.
I wasn’t loving the meaning, but I do love a good word mash-up. Yes, I’m a nerd. It was no grool from Mean Girls, but I could let it slide.
So I made myself go through the week’s diary again, and REALLY point it. And I knew it was time to start making some changes.
I’ve always hated maths. Algebra is the exception, but on a whole, maths is not my friend. Working with numbers was never in the plan for me, and after I somehow passed my Leaving Cert, I was grateful to relegate the calculator to the back of a drawer.
That was until I started on Weight Watchers. See everyone knows you use maths skills on a daily basis, but it’s rare you consciously apply them. Knowing my joys of a glass of wine now count from a weekly points allowance, I figured it was time I started brushing up on my figures.
I bought a little weight watchers pocket calculator and pulled out the book to start working out what a typical night on the tiles really cost me away from the bank account. Needless to say I was a little shocked. Not enough to consider giving up the drop (I was surprised but I’m not crazy) and I started doing my sums. Like if I swapped my glass of wine for a spirit and diet split I’d be saving 2 points every time. Doesn’t sound like much, but for three glasses of wine, I could sip myself through five vodka sodas for the same points value, and well it doesn’t take a genius to work out that it just seems like better value for your budgeting.
I won’t bore you with an entire blog post of my copybook equations, but it really made me reconsider some of the choices I was making. (Reading that last line back, I can only apologise for sounding like a self-help book.)
So I went to do my food shop this week, calculator in hand. Apart from one or two stares from kids watching me tapping furiously into my little calculator, it made more sense to be shopping fully aware of my points before I packed it into the trolley.
It was when I was in the chilled aisle that I heard a little girl asking why I was playing with my toy in the supermarket. Looking around I could see her mam was busy trying to keep her brother from leaving chew marks in half the grapes. I explained to her that I was trying to lose some weight, I wanted to make my tummy smaller.
“That’s ok. My mammy said the same thing, but then she had a baby. When are you having your baby?”
It felt like the entire supermarket was turning to stare at this conversation. I’m pretty sure that pin-prick sound would’ve been a booming thud in that moment. Or wait no, that was just my heart.
I would have paid to have dived into the trays of vegetables. Or you know, shove an apple in her mouth. I knew I went up a pound, but I DID NOT LOOK LIKE I WAS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH.
Yes, she’s just a child, but hey, I am too. I refuse to believe I’m an adult yet.
In my calmest voice, with a now audience, I attempted a smile and told her I wasn’t having a baby.
She shrugged her shoulders and ran back to her mam and grape guzzling brother. Walking by one of the mirrored walls I took a quick glance (no, you can’t call me vain if I’m checking my appearance after being mistaken as a pregnant lady). Then I realised, no, I definitely didn’t look round, and yes she was a little crazy.
It also put things into perspective for me. Like this won’t be the first time I’ll have my weight fluctuate and that chances are I’ll get a gentle reminder along the way that I’m not the skinniest girl in town. But maybe if I get out the pocket calculator, it’ll be less likely to come from a passing comment in the supermarket.
I’ll keep an apple in my bag for emergency stuffing, just in case.
This week's stats go a little something like this -
Height: 5ft 8
Starting Weight: 174 lbs
Current Weight: 160.5 lbs
Weight Loss To Date: 13.5 lb
Goal: 148 lbs
Feeling: Like a mathematician
The Dress in Question:
