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.
_____________________________________
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 24: A mop and a bottle of bleach…
I set myself a goal this week. I wanted to be down 2lbs. Since the big dress reveal, I had noticed my vigour for the whole Operation Dress considerably slowing down.
Maybe it was because the zip went up, or maybe the sweet scent of Nutella was calling, but I think I needed some time off. My holiday head was on, and I wanted to eat everything (and definitely not in moderation.)
The last time I hit this little conundrum, I gave myself a Neeson week. For those who may not be totally aware of the concept it’s based on pretty much based on every Liam Neeson movie. I was going to reach my mission, and I was taking no prisoners.
I started my week the best way possible if you’re planning on eating healthily. I did a food shop. From one aisle to the next, I told myself I was going to be making low points pies, cooking dinners from scratch, preparing a different breakfast every morning. I also picked up a tub of porridge and a bag of raisins because realistically I’m not a morning person and this was a staple that I could prepare the night before.
Chatting away to my roommate after packing up the fridge, I made a resolve to plan ahead and make this a week where I’d eat well but fit it in around my work schedule.
So I went back to school and started working on my maths. If I had porridge and raisins for breakfast, that was 4 points, and a morning snack of banana and a yoghurt was +2 (you get the idea…)
And with that the week started off well. Forget Johnny Forty Coats, I was Liz Twenty Bags. One bag for lunch, one for snacks, one to actually carry my purse.
The plan was working too. I turned down a cupcake, only ate half a brownie, and I wasn’t munching on a secret stash of chocolate at the desk.
I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing until bin day. When there was of course an incident.
If you live in an apartment block, you’ll understand the annoyance of emptying your bin and dragging it down the lift to the industrial bins in the basement. It’s not that it’s that big a deal, but you do the inevitable bin dance where you tie up the bag by its drawstrings and pray no liquids start spilling.
Garbage juice on your leg is not a fun way to start the day.
Bag in hand, with a distinct rubbish smell, I waited for the lift doors to ping open and stepped inside. Standing in the corner I did the awkward elevator nod to the couple standing in the space with me and waited to get out. Just as I was leaving I noticed there was a trail. A trail of milk and it was starting to spoil.
I quickly dumped the bag with the intention of getting my mop in our kitchen to clean it but this time I had varied company in the lift. There was three girls who played chasing on the different floors and an older man. I would say gentleman but you’ll understand in a minute why I wasn’t so quick to pay him a compliment.
When the door pinged open, there stood the offending milk. As the five of us stepped in, one of the girls theatrically held her nose and asked why it smelled so badly in the elevator. I was about to explain I had spilled some milk but was going to go clean it up when I got given out to.
Yes, I’m a 26 year old woman who was given out to by an older man in front of children.
“You’re right, it does smell bad in here and this young woman doesn’t care about anyone else in the building but herself. She’ll jump out now and ignore the fact she’s left a state of this lift for everyone else in the building.”
Anyone who knows me knows I’m a pretty calm person. It would take a lot to rile me. Today I was angry. Very, very angry.
“Excuse me, but I’m actually planning on grabbing my mop from my kitchen. I do plan on cleaning the spill in the corner. Do you want to come with me while I get the bleach for the lift?”
That shut him up pretty quickly but the three girls giggling in the corner didn’t do much to ease the tension.
So out I popped, grabbed my mop, bleach and a towel and in the five minutes it took me to ride up and down on the lift, the spill was cleared, the smell was bleached and the spot was towelled dry.
Then, to my utter horror, the door opened with the offending man stepping back into the lift. He looked like he was on his way out. He never mentioned the fact that I was standing there with a mop, that he had judged me before knowing the situation or that he was now standing in my lift with shoes that had muck breaking off onto the recently shined tiles.
It would be so tempting to pull him up on it, but I realised (to my relief) that thankfully I’m not as petty as him. And that sometimes on this plan, you might make a mess of it, but it doesn’t mean you need to give up.
You just need the chance to get stuck back in.
With this in mind, I sidled up to a different meeting this week. I couldn’t make my regular class and rather than spend a week away from the scales, I decided to look up what class I could make in my day.
My leader for the day was very welcoming, offered me to leave my coat and bag on the side chair and to step onto the scales.
Following her lead, we chatted briefly when the third ping this week popped up on the screen. I was down 2.5lbs.
So my walking, shopping, eating right and eventual mopping had all been worth it.
But just in case, I’m going to double bag the bins before heading into the lift in future.
This week’s stats go a little something like this –
Height: 5ft 8
Starting Weight: 174 lbs
Current Weight: 155 lbs
Weight Loss To Date: 19 lb
Goal: 148 lbs
Feeling: Like the bigger person
The Dress in Question… NOW FITS!!
