I follow two diets, one just isnt enough.

From the past 6 months or so, I resolved I needed to lose about 30 kilos, the healthiest and fastest way I could. In December 2007, I weighed all of a very flabby, miserable and roly poly 84 kilos. Needless to say, on my 5 ft 3 frame, it all looked like a very robust sack of potatoes destined for the relief of a famine ravaged country.

Today, I’m a fat, but healthier 74 kilos. And the work is still in progress. It’s all a combination of diet, hunger pangs, exercise, green tea and looking long and hard at all the lovely clothes i want to wear, but cant because my flubber makes itself very prominent in spandex ltd.

This post does have a point, before I ramble any more. My motto for most anything in life is, If you do what you always did, you’ll get what you always got. And that is helping me bear whatever small discomfort and big problems that life keeps throwing at me. It’s weird, how one after another I’m in such scrapes, where my reality and sense of self tethers on my uncertain future. The point of this post is the learning curve you experience when you try to change an aspect of yourself, and the fun you have on the way.

I’ve learned that I’m not as addicted to coffee as I once thought I was. It’s been a coffee free 3 months, and I’m not having any cravings.

I’ve learned that although Tea does taste like Cat’s piss, Green tea with mint and no sugar is bearable. ANYTHING to fit into that lovely halter top and mini corduroy skirt.

I’ve learned that sugar free gum and popcorn without salt is God’s gift to the horizontally challenged lot.

I’ve learned you can go on for another minute on the Treadmill long after you think you’re going to collapse from exhaustion.

I’ve learned that sports Bra’s are very, very, very expensive, and not just for teenyboppers.

I’ve learned that when I tell myself I can, or can’t, despite my skepticism, my body and will really does bend itself to my mind.

I’ve begun to love the mornings, contrary to my earlier belief that life begins after 8 pm. The reason for this is, I’ve stopped having dinner except on days when I’ve skipped lunch unintentionally. I can eat most what I want in the mornings, so when I wake up, I’m inevitably dreaming of steaks, eggs, chocolate mocha coffee, and the leftovers from whatever awesome dinner my mum cooked. Nevertheless, I settle for a little bit of the leftover dish, one bowl of muesli with milk, and green tea. When the night comes, I’m surviving on popcorn or sugar free gum, and praying like crazy for the morning. But I absolutely refuse to open the fridge.

I’ve fallen head over heels for my I pod. It helps me bear the weights, the boredom, the soreness, and the tedium of the elliptical/ cycling/ rowing machine.

I’ve begun reading up and counting calories on mostly everything I eat, and the way that people look at me astonished and tell me I’ve lost weight is a bit of motivation and adequate compensation for that day’s grueling run.

Whenever anyone asks me how I’ve lost weight, I now have a politically incorrect, but apt answer. I work out, and bear hunger pangs after 7 pm. You want it, you gotta do that too. Most of them just slinker away. Really, what did they think, I prayed and the weight just flew off and landed on the nearest bar of chocolate for someone’s consumption ?

Wish me luck, another 10 kilos to go before Christmas !