Please...don't lie to me.

Okay chaps, so we've made it through our first week of 2017. Now, if you're like me (and unless you've just got married or had a child or anything like that) the first 8 days of January have not been life changing. We have not woken up on January first; fresh faced, bright eyed and bushy tailed. If you're like me, you probably didn't wake up TODAY at all like the above either. Change takes time, and honestly, change takes serious struggle. It takes continuous effort to reinforce new habits, to limit the power that old habits had over you and your decision making abilities. This applies to ANY change. Even if you are told 'YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THIS THING OR YOU WILL DIE' that doesn't mean that you won't still have to actively say to yourself, no I can't do that or yes I must take that medication. No matter your reason for change, it doesn't stop it from being a challenge.

Okay, I think you've got the point. Change = hard.

So, imagine me- if you will- last night scrolling through Instagram  and seeing a sponsored post by Weight Watchers UK. FULL DISCLOSURE: I am still an adherent of Weight Watchers, it has worked for me thus far and I like the flexibility of not having to count things like fruit and veg. I understand it does not work for everyone and even I don't like some aspects and have modified the plan to suit myself...back to post. This Instagram post was an advert. I know, surprising considering it's January and most of us still have a box of mince pies left over from Christmas. This year's Weight Watchers celebrity is Oprah Winfrey. I am not by ANY stretch of the imagination criticising Oprah or her efforts to lose weight and feel better for it. ALL I will criticise is the simple line 'I can honestly tell you I struggle no more'. Literally the first thing that came to mind, totally involuntarily, was 'Oprah! Don't lie to me!' Because that is what it was. A LIE. 

Pretty self explanatory...

Let me lay out my evidence for this. I'll go off my own experience firstly. I have 26 years of unhealthy habits with food to break. I know that even when I am 'done' with the weight loss element of this journey I may well still have a daily battle fighting for moderation and stopping my emotional relationship with food from sneaking back in. Weight loss is one battle. Maintenance is a whole other battle. Having sat in countless Weight Watchers, Lighter Life and Cambridge Diet Plan meetings over the last few years never once has a leader or a member on maintenance said that they don't still struggle. Certainly it gets easier as new habits become a part of your day to day life but that doesn't mean that if you've been an emotional binge eater for decades that you won't have that moment after a shitty day where you go 'f*** it, just give me the sodding crisps'. Regardless of the 'real life' community of people changing their lifestyle that I have had the fortune of meeting and getting to know over the last 4 years, a quick glance at before and afters on Instagram itself will show just how much effort, CONTINUED effort, anyone who has lost/ is losing weight must commit to.

To suggest otherwise is to discount the extraordinary effort of anyone who has ever undergone serious change. To suggest otherwise is like saying 'but weight loss is easy. Just eat less and move more and there you go'. I don't think that there really are THAT many people who hand on heart truly believe that weight loss is easy, but Weight Watchers' own marketing strategy is telling people the wrong thing. That if you DO continue to struggle after losing weight or whilst losing weight or during whatever change you are undergoing in your life right now that you are somehow a failure or not doing it as WELL as Oprah (who, let's be honest, can afford to have someone cook her meals and make her work out every day if she wanted to). It's not realistic, it's not supportive and actually I think it's damaging. A quick read of the comments under this post and I saw people talking about how they DO still struggle but they're trying really hard. Like they were trying to explain away naughty behaviour to a disappointed parent. And this is the thing. I get what Weight Watchers are trying to do here. They're saying this is an easy program, it's flexible, it's doable, you can eat what you want (in moderation) and still lose weight. But what they've done is set the bar for weight loss attainment far to high for the average person trying to lose weight. And for a system that is trying to be increasingly supportive and aware of how emotional health feeds into relationships with eating, to my mind, it's undone a LOT of its good work. 

So to anyone who was in anyway downcast by last night's Instagram post, or simply feels like they're finding this too hard, it IS a struggle. You are NOT achieving less simply because you do find it challenging. And never NEVER let anyone, not even the company that is meant to be supporting you, make you feel inferior or incapable. You've got this. 

2017...believe it or not. (Part two)

Okay, so I'm organised. I've sorted through my possessions, have the beginnings of a weekly fitness plan and my laundry is well underway. Yay! So now it's time to think about actually making it happen. It's all well and good saying 'on Monday, Wednesday and Friday I go to spinning, Tuesday and Thursday Weights and ballet both evenings and yoga at the weekends' and quite another thing to get those things into practice. I'm also aware of the fact that I'm contending with about ten days of overindulgences and less than beneficial habits so I'm actually very grateful that the way the New Year has fallen means that there are bank holidays and I get another day to sort myself out before regular scheduling activity returns.

So without much further ado.

Stage three: Think about positive habits.

Kind of related to getting organised but more focused on the end goal. So for me, I want to get back to running fit this year- I'm not suggesting I take on any marathons any time soon (perhaps never- I may simply not be built for long distance) but I want it to become a habit that I stick to again. I'm at a weird period where I remember the endorphins and fun that came with my runs; being outside, taking in the fresh air and just reaping the benefits of the greater cardiovascular health; but I know the pain and lack of capacity that will come from starting again. But no matter- every expert was once a beginner. With the knowledge of your goals, you then have to think about how to make it happen. So, running- crack out the Couch to 5K app and do it. I want to make sure I have a greater variety of fruit and vegetables so produce a list of seasonal fruit and vegetables and try and increase my intake so that where I had one type of vegetable at lunch I now have two, where I had two at dinner I now have three OR take the time to find an interesting use of a vegetable so that's it's not just the same boiling, steaming, roasting that happens day in, day out. My family have decided to split meal production a bit more evenly so now my family get to experience my weird and wonderful dreams for vegetables too! (Mwahahahahaha). Drink more water, download a water tracking app or tick your glasses off on your calendar every day. (Most importantly for me) Sort out my atrocious sleep schedule. I'm writing this at 01:44...I should be in bed and I should not then be waking up at 10am (if I'm lucky) and repeating tomorrow evening. Nope. Must stop. I think it's much easier to try and do something new rather than STOP doing something you used to do and the logic is that you're actually adding something to your life rather than restricting yourself or denying the way you feel. But with the knowledge that the healthier I eat, the less I crave the things that make me feel unwell. All I need is some consistency (which is what is so great about a New Year) to let these new habits sink in and chances are I won't think about pick n mix or if I do I'll be able to approach it with the clarity and perspective I need to say 'no, you're not 15 any more. You cannot eat that without impunity and wake up feeling fine the next morning'.

Which brings me on to:

Stage four: Create a rewards scheme.

For most of us, we prefer the carrot over the stick. If you're like me (or the whole world...let's be honest now) our single most reliable reward is food. That stick of chocolate after a job well done, a piece of cake on a birthday, the unacceptable number of sweet treats that oozed from every corner of my house over Christmas given as a reward for...something. I've said it before and I'll say it again, from cradle to grave food is there. Now, if you've had an unhealthy relationship with food, like I have, food can no longer be your reward system. It just can't. Now (this can take some imagination) it is vital you find something you love that you can reward yourself with for hitting a goal or a target on the way. Not only that, you need a variety of different rewards at different levels of rewardiness to delineate between 'I went to the gym today' *well done me, I'm going to crack open the Laura Mercier bubble bath* and 'I annihilated my second tough mudder' *well done me, I'm off to the spa to have someone soothe those aching muscles*. Having these mini rewards keeps the steps along the way attainable, and when you have a longer journey ahead of you, you NEED something that can keep you going when it honest to god feels like you're just trudging along. Hard work will (maybe) eventually be its own reward but even then it can be extremely hard to see your own progress. When I was at university, progress was easy because I was surrounded by loads of people who could tell me I was looking better/ behaving differently. When I looked in the mirror and saw no change, people I hadn't seen in months would walk past me at the train station because I was that much slimmer. That's a heady feeling. It keeps you motivated even when motivation is hard to come by. Obviously when you don't have a cohort of students to inform you of your progress you need to become your own monitor and do it in an objective way. Keep a diary detailing your weight loss or your inch loss, or better even how fast you ran that kilometre or how much of a heavy thing you lifted. Write down personal bests and take stock of things that are easier now than they have ever been before. Celebrate every victory no matter how insignificant it may feel now. 

And finally.
Stage five: Be kind to yourself
I have not been very nice to myself in the last trip round the sun. Honestly, if I saw a person saying some of the things I've said to myself to any other person I'd give them a strong piece of my mind. So why can I say it to myself/ about myself? Be kind to yourself. Accept that there will be days when you're not feeling up to much or your motivation cracks and you feel bad habits slipping back in. We're only human. So, I'm going to be kind today and bring my old progress jars out of retirement. I've spent far too much time feeling like there was no point dealing with them simply because I didn't feel like pounds I'd already lost was progress. I'm going to release my jars from their prison, give them a clean because they're a bit dusty, and take all the beads back out and put my current total back in. It may not be as high as it was, sure, but it's still a hell of a lot of hard work and determination and I'm done seeing the negative instead of the positive. 

2017...believe it or not. (Part One)

So everybody, somehow it's 2017 today. I'm not going to agonise over all of the awful stuff that happened last year. I will just say this. 2016 was simultaneously the shortest and longest year of my life.

But. We move on.

Now, obviously the year has only just begun. So I can't tell you exactly how it's going to be different, I'm just telling you that I'm going into this year with all the optimism I can muster. So today, just to ease back into this whole 'being on top of my life thing' I want to lay out some of the things I plan on doing with my optimism.

Organisation is great because it means new stationery...

Stage one: Get organised.

This is somewhere where I often fall down and being organised applies to the small things just as much as the big things. If I haven't done my laundry my motivation to go to the gym disappears because I know I have to move into the 'uncomfortable' segment of my workout gear. Should I just get rid of that stuff? You know what...yes. In fact, LET IT BE SO. Today, Sunday, January 1 2017 I shall finally go through my gym kit and pack up the things that are uncomfortable, that are too short, too long, etc. If I take them to a charity shop, especially since some of the half length capri pants (mistaaaaake) have only been worn once, maybe someone else can get use out of them and I'll have to remember to do my laundry regularly.

Taking the last few days of my Christmas study break to really think about the time I want to dedicate to fitness, followed by the amount of time I'm ACTUALLY ABLE to commit to fitness will help no end. Actually making a date with yourself that 'on Tuesday morning between 10-11 I do circuits at the gym' and then slotting the other stuff around it is not going to prevent you from giving the sufficient amount of time to the 'more important things'. No, you'll know when you go to the gym, when you study, when you practice a language or pick up an ageing instrument and chances are you will be giving yourself MORE time to do it and LESS time worrying about ‘whether I should go to the gym today'. Trust me. If you work best with a full schedule like me, this is the way to go.

Stage two: Just, stop and think.

Hello, my name's Florence and I'm addicted to pick n mix. There. I said it. I would love to say that I don't think about what I'm doing when I'm digging into the self serve Candy King and missing the days of Woolworths Pick n Mix stand but that would be a lie. Not only do I think about it. I fantasise about it when I DON’T have it to the point that I can almost taste those pink and blue fizzy bottles and then the inevitable 2am raid of Tesco's happens and...yeah, it's not pretty. Do you know what I SHOULD think?! 'This shit physically hurts you'. I am NOT joking. Sugary sweets of any type, no matter how small a portion causes my body physical pain. And yet, whilst it's happening I'm not thinking about that. I'm thinking about how good it is, how tangy it tastes and how tingly it feels. I'm not talking about guilt. Sure, I've had moments when I have eaten SO MUCH pick n mix, pizza, Chinese food etc. that I feel guilty about my behaviour and that is no good in itself.

But loving yourself means taking care of your body and I HAVE to realise that when I eat certain foods my body simply is not happy. So step two is mainly about thinking about the things that are harming your interests- really having an actual concerted think about it rather than just a cursory 'that makes my tummy hurt' or 'following this person on Instagram makes me feel bad' and really stop and think. Make a list of the bad stuff and then, I don't know, burn it or physically destroy it and just get that shit out of your life. Or, alternatively think about the positive things you can bring IN to your life. My immune system has been barely functional this year and scientists are increasingly telling us that our gut health is crucial to maintaining a healthy immune system. So I'm going to stop and think and research the kinds of foods and habits that will positively impact my health so that going forwards I don't have any 'I ate too much sugar, I think my stomach is about to explode...send help' moments in 2017.

The main reason I’m banging on about this now is that year in, year out I have seen people (myself included) start the New Year with all these great schemes but with no forward planning. Failure to plan is planning to fail. What is the point of saying ‘New Year, New Me’ if the new you only lasts a month and a half? I have known for the last few weeks that I was really going to pull the finger out after the New Year. I’ve been back on track more or less since Thanksgiving (26th November in my house) but I knew that it was going to be primarily damage limitations before the Christmas period. But NOW is the time that I get back to building the habits and behaviours that will hopefully stick with me for good. That doesn’t mean it will come easily, I’ve been so haphazard with my attitude towards nutrition and activity over the last year, but I know that it will be worth it. So today’s post is about how I’m organising myself. Tomorrow will look at how I’m going to make the things I’m organising happen and how I’m going to keep them happening. And then, well, I just have to get on with it!

Wishing everyone a happy, healthy, New Year!

An (Honest) Eulogy to 2016

Oh, 2016. You had so much promise. As I stood under the moonlight watching multicoloured pinwheels fly through the sky howling my lungs out in celebration of what was going to be the 'BEST YEAR EVER' I had no idea what you were going to bring. But I knew it was going to be good.

I. Was. WRONG.

Good God 2016, could you have been worse? Yes. We could be living in 1916 and witness our loved ones leave to fight in WWI only to never come back. We could be one of the thousands of displaced Syrian refugees or otherwise simply be in a less privileged position than I actually am. I am aware of this. I look around myself at the overwhelming prosperity and I am thankful that I have the things that I have and that the people I love are still here. But honestly...2016, I'm sorry but you were pretty shit.

In 2016, I have put on and lost and put on and lost somewhere in the region of three stone. I start the new year about half a stone heavier than I did on January 1st (and I am so thankful that it is ONLY half a stone heavier) but 2016 has been the hardest weight loss/fitness/general motivation year of my life.

In 2016 I have fallen in love and had my heart broken and put it back together only for it to be broken AGAIN. In 2016, I witnessed some of the finest artists of our time pass unreasonably early.  Social divisions were pushed to the absolute limit; first with Brexit, then with Donald J(esusChristyoucan'tbeserious) Trump, and the wave of intolerance continues at home and abroad.

Katie Hopkins did NOT leave the country either of the times she promised to. Nor has Nigel Farage pissed off (what would have been one of the few good aspects of the surge of hatred in the weeks immediately following the referendum). Jo Cox was murdered. Native Americans once again had their rights revoked because of big business. Lorries ran over celebrating civilians. Natural disaster after natural disaster. Police brutality. Civil war rages in the Middle East and no one really seems to know what to do about it, or knows what to do about it but is just too chicken shit to actually make a stand. There have been terrorist attacks and mass shootings what seems like every day of the year.

It's Christmas time, my absolute favourite time of the year. The time of year I love because, in general, people just seem nicer to one another. You take a minute to think of the people you care about and all of the wonderful things in your life. But when I look around right now, there is a veritable shit storm of fear and hatred and bigotry and just awfulness and I hate turning on the news because there's a picture of yet another child that the world forgot or a once thriving city razed to the ground or yet more hate attacks on people who are a bit different. I feel drained and demotivated and sometimes just, completely lost. And I know I am not alone.

And yet. There have been pockets of goodness throughout. I read something after the Florida mass shooting that struck me. In moments of peril, look for the helpers because they will always be there. And it's true. Where there is injustice, people will stand for what is right and good. Bloodbanks (after the Orlando shooting) were overwhelmed with support, veterans stood with protesters, the UK voted to ratify the Istanbul Convention, the White Helmets, donations were made to Planned Parenthood in Mike Pence's name, three parent babies, we're closer to a cure for HIV than ever before, the Icelandic football team received a heroes welcome, tiger populations are increasing, Bill Clinton reacted to balloons, Leonardo DiCaprio FINALLY won an Oscar, Leicester City, Larry the Cat, the Chicago Cubs, Pope Francis continues to be Pope Francis, The Olympic and Paralympic games. I watched one of my best friends achieve a life long dream. I had fun. I held the people I love close. I didn't fail.

There is the potential for goodness and determination in the face of adversity everywhere you look. So, my wish for 2017 is to make it count. Every new year has the potential to be a bizarre game of deja vu. We repeat the same resolutions, give up at the same times and then just carry on with the day to day monotony. I don't plan on doing that. I plan on putting the work in. Grabbing on to possibilities and giving them my best shot. And in many ways, I have you to thank for that 2016. If you hadn't been so crap I wouldn't have the drive to make 2017 the best year yet.

Nearly everything that happened in 2016.
Beutler Ink. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/best-and-worst-of-2016-illustration_us_58580249e4b08debb789f02f)

I overcome all fears

Three weeks ago today, I woke up in a cottage in Cirencester having just taken on one of the hardest physical challenges of my life. The day before, I became a Tough Mudder. I had spent about 4 and a half hours running over hills and through dense woodland, climbing over walls and scrabbling through mud whilst being repeatedly thrown into water and a final bit of electric shock therapy at the end all for good measure. I crossed the finish line hand in hand with my brother, was handed my orange head band, finisher T-shirt and a cider. This was, hands down, the proudest moment of my life.   Four and a half hours earlier I had stood with my group of mudders and enthusiastically shouted at the top of my lungs my pledge to 'over come all fears'.

This morning, I woke up in a hotel room in Bournemouth to the sound of sea gulls and early enough that it was still dark outside- a sight I'm still not quite used to after a summer of early sunny mornings. I absentmindedly put on my trusty ronhill running tights and the T-shirt I acquired yesterday to face what is, undoubtedly, sure to be another of the hardest physical challenges of my life. Today, I run my first marathon. And here's a secret that I'm not altogether proud of- I'm scared. The week and a half after tough mudder left me struck down with a chest and ear infection that wiped out what remaining training time I had for the run and has tormented me all week. I've worked and reworked out how fast I need to do it to atlas complete it within the six and a half hour time limit (14.9 minute mile just in case you were wondering) and I've been plagued by memories of coming in last at races for school. I have been reassured by my friends and family, my personal trainer Heather is I'm sure sick to death about hearing me blabber on about it and is probably waiting on tenterhooks today for me to tell her it's done so we can resume work as usual.

This morning, I have done everything I can to ensure success. I had an early night last night and I'm waiting for the butterflies in my tummy to bugger off which probably won't happen until I step foot over the starting line and am actually doing this. Honestly, some days I look at myself and think 'what the hell have you done this for?!' and then I remember, today I will do what others won't so that tomorrow I can do what others can't. I do this for the challenge because, deep down inside- even when my confidence is wavering- I believe that I am capable of achieving anything I put my mind to. I do this because I know countless individuals who wish they could strap on a pair of running shoes and take in what will prove to be some of the most breathtaking scenery in the country but can't because of illness or injury. I do this because people tell me I am an inspiration and I believe that people who have the possibility of effecting change, no matter how small, should lead by example and be unyielding in their own determination.

I do this, because I overcome all fears.

Thank you and good night.

Right, ladies and gentlemen. I know, I know. You've been stressing out because last week I had lost 98lbs and here I am, 48 hours after my weigh in and I still haven't updated you. I know what you're all thinking. She gained. Let's go drink on her behalf because that sucks.

No.

The truth is, I lost four pounds. FOUR POUNDS. Which means, ladies and gentlemen, that I have lost 102 lbs total. That's 46 kilos or 7 stone 4 lbs. I have lost triple digits. That's mental. A few years ago, Nicole Richie was basically shat on in all of the glossy magazines for inviting people to a party with a 100 lb weight limit. So technically, the fat that I've lost is now too heavy to have been allowed in. Shucks.

In case you didn't believe me...

So, let's flash back a few days shall we. You'll all remember that last Wednesday I was thrilled to bits to have got to my 7 stone goal. Whilst that is certainly true what you need to see was my little brain thinking 'Right you idiot. You only need to lose TWO POUNDS this week. D'you hear that? TWO POUNDS.' All week I had been teaming up with the angel on my shoulder to tell the devil on the other side to shove off. There was NOTHING on this planet that was going to stop me from getting to 100 lbs. That just was not allowed to happen. I tracked like I have never tracked and I did a quality control on my tracking by also, for one week and one week only, tracking my calories on my fitness pal. This was more to make sure that I wasn't jeopardising my weight loss chances by eating my entire daily allowance in mangoes on top of my daily points just because 'fruit is 'free' on weight watchers'. This is not the beginnings of me saying 'you must all stop eating fruit. Fruit's the devil' it was more a case of making sure I was as aware of what was going in my mouth as humanly possible.

Did you know that a newborn Dalmation weighs about a pound. That's 102 puppies lost.

Freshly cleaned the same weight watchers uniform I wore the week before- I was determined not to have any anomalous results because of a change of underwear thankyouverymuch. Head to the meeting and make my way through people going 'gosh, you've changed so much in one week' {umm...wut? You sure?}. Right then, if I already LOOK noticeably slimmer in one week this HAS to be it...the big 100. Sue (my leader) beamed at me as I handed over my card and stripped off the final superfluous clothing and pieces of jewellery (look kids, this is science...couldn't have any thing messing up that control group could I?!). Step on and wait. That's all you have to do. So I stepped on. Both Sue's and my eyes flew to the scale's monitor. 16 stone 7. Crap on a cracker...I lost four lbs. 102 lbs. Not only did I get over that next hurdle but I got some extra on top just to give me a clear margin.

A newbie asked for the before picture...here she is.

I sat in the meeting and zipped my lip. Not saying anything till I get picked on and then can make EVERYONE aware at the same time how good a weight watcher I am. Mwahahahaha. As it's currently awards season that was the theme. We were talking about successes. And much like Leonardo DiCaprio agonises every time he is up for an Oscar, I sat there heart racing as it became clear that Sue was picking on me last. In the moment I'd lost 102 lbs I became not only the most successful weight watcher in the room but also the most successful weight watcher at that meeting group. This, was something I did not know. I was sure that there were two women there who had gone over the 100 mark but nope- 7 stone was the most lost there. Crumbs.

And today, 102 lbs lighter.

'Florence, if this was your Weight Watchers Oscar's speech, who do you have to thank?' And I kid you not, the first thing I said was 'I want to thank the people who read my blog.' Regardless of how boring my topic is or how long it takes me to write something, I have people out there who read what I have to say, who send me emails and Facebook and Twitter messages to tell me they find me an inspiration or they simply like to know that they are not alone. And in doing so I remember that I too, am not alone in this. I will never be alone in this because all of you, from the ones I've known for years to the people I've never met, give me the drive to keep going until goal. We're coming up to two years together you all and I, and I can honestly say it's been the most fulfilling relationship I have ever had.

So, as my Oscars music comes around for the second time telling me to shut the hell up and get off stage, thank you. When I have my celebratory glass of Champagne tonight I will think of all of you in this with me.

The rule of seven.

So, it's been a month since Jemma left (I can't believe it's been so long) and it's well time for a new blog post. Not just because enough time has gone by but because I actually have some really, very exciting news to share with y'all.

As of last night, ladies and gentlemen, I have lost 7 stone. If the daily mail is anything to go by (...) apparently I have lost Snooki. That's a full, grown up adult woman that has had a child. We'll ignore the fact that, if that's true, she is PAINFULLY underweight. I'm going to revel in that for a little bit. Yesterday was a good day. I woke up with an amazing feeling of optimism that, to be honest, I've been missing for a little while. Maybe it was the restorative day off from work, or it might have been the glorious spring sunshine baring down at me from my window. I did loads of spring cleaning, had an enormous amount of drive to get some course work done and was generally just feeling a heightened sense of wellbeing. I was also aware of the fact that I only needed one pound to tip me over the 7 stone mark. One pound. I was the equivalent of a can of baked beans to my 7 stone goal and with that only 2 lbs, or your average pineapple, away from having lost 100lbs. Triple digits. Crikey.

It was also significant because this was the first weight watchers meeting I've been able to go to since before Christmas. I've been going at it alone because my rota has had me on late nights for the last 9 Wednesdays. So I got dressed in my usual weight watchers uniform (clothing that I'm sure could well have me done for gross indecency), got my card and climbed into the car for the 10 minute drive. And then it hit me. I was actually nervous about going in. I felt like I did when I started. I was an anxious newbie. 'What if they've recycled my membership card because I haven't been in SO LONG?' (They hadn't). 'What if my scales at home are wrong and I've actually gained 10 lbs?' (My scales are fine). 'What if I stay the same and I nearly die of frustration?' This was a very real worry because I had not, by any stretch of the imagination, had a good week. I over ate on Thursday, ate ALL the food on Valentine's day (why is that day not outlawed?) and (sorry boys) it's my time of the month. Combine that with my utter laziness in the last week and none of this is all that conducive towards the best weight loss success. And yet I walked into that room and people did not recognise me. People who have been with me the entire length of my journey. People physically did double takes. My leader even said 'Welcome' to me before realising who I was and gawping at me stunned. {Inner monologue} "Calm down people, I've only lost like 10 lbs since you last saw me". My leader gleefully (finally) handed over my 75 lb certificate before exclaiming to the entire room that she'd better get on the computer and order the 100 toot sweet.

Wait...are you, you know, using a selfie stick?

And so, the moment of reckoning. Step on the scale, the number ticks down and settles on 16 stone 11. I did it. 7 stone. 14 silver sevens. In that moment I flashed back to the first moment I stepped on the scales back in April 2013. I remember looking at the dust settling before me and seeing the enormous challenge I had ahead of me. This time, all I can see ahead of me is potential and the amazing things that this body of mine has accomplished.  In that moment I think I realised that one of the great things holding me back the last few weeks has been fear. I don't think I was even aware of it at the time. I've held back from marathon training (stupidly) because I've been afraid of finishing last,  I've been afraid of not being able to hit my targets and have beaten myself up about it when that then materialised in slow, though consistent, weight loss. I was scared of the life I was going to live without Jemma, but apparently not too scared to sign up for Tough Mudder in August (I don't think the fear for that has had time to develop yet though). I've been afraid of letting life slip by and so haven't stopped to think about all the things I can do now, should do now. That, is what 7 stone means to me.

So, today I woke up on a rainy morning with all of yesterday's enthusiasm still buzzing. I got up, bought some new running socks, ate some sushi and headed to the gym to train with Heather (the new PT- you'll all be glad to know we get along, so I have no intention of dumping her). I had more than one opportunity to over eat today but I didn't. With so much waiting in the coming weeks, I suddenly found myself having no interest. That, I think will be my mantra this week. There are only 2 lbs till 100. Just keep going. And so, to sum up, I've lost 7 stone but have found myself and with every pound gone I get a little bit of the life I can have to keep me motivated, to keep me going. And when that's not enough, I get given stickers...

14 little shiny stickers for me.

Goodbye, I'll miss you.

I've been putting this post off for weeks but the time has come to do it. Before Christmas I'm at my personal training session, complaining about boys (as per usual) when Jemma stops me. 'I have something to tell you'. My head suddenly fills with all the worst case scenarios it can come up with. She's getting married to a Saudi Prince and has to leave immediately. She's developed a rare allergy to sweat and can no longer be a personal trainer. Oh shut up brain.

'I'm moving to Australia'- is what she actually said. Cue emotional and mental breakdown. *You will not cry in the gym...you WILL NOT cry in the gym*.

But Australia's so far away!

So yeah, my absolutely beloved personal trainer- someone who has been such an enormous part of my journey so far- is leaving next week to start the next part of her own journey. I'm torn by feeling proud that she's breaking out and having new experiences and screaming 'but what about me?! I can't believe that you're not going to be here till the end. We were going to start a weight loss empire and become millionaires!' {That is still totally going to happen...}

However hard the idea of being separated from Jemma is to contemplate, I want to focus on the amazing contribution this woman- my pint sized ninja sidekick- has made so far.

Jemma was by no means my first personal trainer. I have a history of unceremoniously dumping my personal trainers. I just kind of disappear, don't reply to texts or calls until they get the picture. Either I've not felt challenged, don't get on with the person or I just haven't been in the right place to take full advantage of the skills they were offering me.

Jemma though, was different. Not only did she appear in my life at exactly the point that we would both be able to benefit from our relationship with each other, she was the first personal trainer I have ever connected with. It started at the very beginning, she complimented my Ted Baker handbag. It was love. She realised early on that I was more capable than I, or anyone, might think and as such I was constantly challenged to do better, be better or just try something new. Through her, I finally learnt what it meant to love activity. I know now what it feels like to be able to say, 'woah, my body can do amazing things. Let's see if it can do X?' She's the reason that I have no doubt that I can do Tough Mudder in August or the Milton Keynes Marathon in May.

Ted Baker. Bringing people together since 2012

Shortly into our time together I went back to Bristol and was sure that I'd be able to continue that trend with other personal trainers. I was wrong and Vanessa and Dave became the next victims of, the now infamous, Hunter dumping. I neither connected with them nor felt challenged by the programs that they set me. They just couldn't put me at ease or felt confident themselves to see what would happen if they gave the 20+ stone girl some heavy weights and see what happened or tease gently when I pull my pouty face that I simply cannot do another rep.

As we worked together more, Jemma ceased to be just my personal trainer. She became my friend. I trust her totally, something summed up last week when I let her give me a piggy back. Think about that for a moment... As someone who hasn't been picked up by another human being in well over a decade, this was a huge moment for me and her. I had to try not to cry as we high fived and she said she was happy to have been the first person to pick me up. We talk about just about anything including failed tinder experiments and an unfortunate crush that may or may not have been had in the first few weeks of my new job. Awks.

Every time we have a session, even if I am hating life or just want my bed, I can honestly say I smile as I tie my laces and head out of the front door. For the first time in my life I am excited to see what can be achieved and working with her has me seriously considering qualifying as a personal trainer myself. I am not exaggerating when I say that she has changed my life for good.

So learning that today is our last session has left me flat out devastated. I nearly cried when we were boxing as I felt the loss rising up inside but I know that this is not the end. We WILL have our empire of fitness videos where y'all can experience the fun and laughter that our sessions bring. I can only say that training with her has been inspirational and an absolute pleasure.

So, there you have it. I had always hoped that she would be there till the end of my journey and she will be- just not as we'd originally planned. So Jemma, and I know you're reading this, I will miss you more than words can say and am so pleased to have had the privilege of having you in my life for the last year and a half. It's been an absolute blast and I hope you have an amazing time in Australia...even if the evil part of my brain is hoping you come home soon.

The most important lie I ever did tell.

Dear Diary,

I have a confession to make. Last week, I lied about my weigh in. I lied to myself, I lied to my daily record and also anyone who asked about how I'd done that week. The truth then, is that I gained a pound. I told everyone I'd lost a pound. I didn't even do a little lie and say I'd stayed the same. And as I stepped on the scales on Wednesday and saw that I had lost that pound and another two, effectively bringing me to the place I would have been had I actually weighed in as 17 stone 2 last week and lost another pound, I started to question why I had lied in the first place.

Here's what I figured out when I really thought about it. Over the last few months I had managed a greater level of consistency than I had every achieved before on weight watchers. That consistency has been so very important to me in driving me to keep it going and I think that I was scared to let myself slip, even a little- even if I then rectified the situation the next week. I was also wary of the fact that in gaining a pound I went back a step in being over my half way mark. So I lied. I actively told myself- you lost another pound, that pound meant that my daily points allowance changed to 38, that pound meant that I hadn't dropped the consistency, that pound meant that I believed I was still going the right way and consequently that pound meant that I continued to lose this week. As such it felt like the most important lie I could tell myself at that time as I didn't put myself down once for gaining that pound.

However, I have no way of telling if I would have done as well, worse or better if I had owned my gain when it happened and, more importantly, I failed to stay honest to myself and the plan. So I resolved as I saw my weight drop to the lowest I've ever been, again, that I would always be honest in the future. If I can be honest with my tracker about what I'm putting into my body, if I can own the bad times with the good, then I can certainly afford to accept the gains with the losses because it's a part of life that actually helps to increase the value of the loss afterwards. Simple maths to demonstrate what I mean:

If I had actually weighed as 17 2, my loss of a pound this week doesn't seem as impressive as the three pounds I actually lost to bring me to where I am today.

In retrospect that first gain in months was important to me- it showed that one blip is not going to screw the plan up and that I can pick myself up, brush myself off and keep going.

So, whilst it felt like an important lie to tell myself at the time, I will not be repeating this practice. I'm 94 pounds in, I don't NEED to lie to myself to know that I've got this. I just need to persist.

The dreaded binge

This past Sunday I went on a work night out with some of my colleagues and our tech reps who come in at weekends as specialists to save my behind when I know shite all about Panasonic TVs or why Bowers and Wilkins T7 bluetooth speaker is made up of hundreds of honeycomb shapes. As frequently happens in situations where many people will be eating/ drinking together, what followed the initial organisation stage was a whatsapp argument about the venue for sustenance that went on for days. Mr Bowers and Wilkins finally made the executive decision of T.G.I. Fridays. Dun dun DUUUUUUN.

I've got nothing against T.G.I. Fridays - in my youth I was quite partial to a Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger after my starter of mozzarella dippers- but T.G.I. Fridays is quite literally the WORST PLACE you can go on Weight Watchers and probably just about any other 'diet' going. To elaborate on this point I have listed the best and worst options and their points below. As a frame of reference to those not on Weight Watchers, I'm on 39 points a day, I weigh 17 stone 3lbs and am 5 ft 6 tall:

The best thing you can have on the menu is...Garlic Ciabatta Bread, Plain (a starter) at 12 proPoints. Alternatively you can have a quarter of the Loaded Potato Skins for the same 12 proPoints.
The WORST thing on the menu is...the Double stacked Jack Daniel's Monterey Burger, a bargain at 78 proPoints. That is literally twice my daily allowance. But I hear you, go for something real- I'm not going to have the double stacked version. So the single burger is 57 proPoints. Huh. Interesting.

Why are you so delicious?

Now, before I left home I thought long and hard about this. Florence, I said to myself, you've started well in this new year. Let's not do anything to jeopardise the consistent weight loss you've been experiencing. And so, I did the sensible thing. I got white girl wasted on fruity cocktails laced with popping candy and suddenly all concept of 'good' and 'bad' disappeared. I somehow managed to maintain a cool head long enough to order a steak. But instead of holding back on the chips I polished them off and 1.5 of my friend Alice's mozzarella dippers...another bargain at 34 proPoints for the entire starter sized serving...

Damn you and your fabulous fruity friends.

I know what you're thinking. Surely you left it there? Nope. As I downed my fourth tequila shot with a Smirnoff ice chaser (5 proPoints per bottle- I now know...), I had at no point slowed down the caloric intake. In fact I was long past caring and ordered a serving of cheesy chips to really polish off my evening.

This is not intended as some kind of binge shaming exercise but rather, is important to talk about because most people will have done something similar at one point or another. And that is absolutely okay. I feel no guilt in what I did. I had a great time. According to my fitness tracker I will have danced off most of those empty calories and I have worked really hard today to get myself back into the healthy swing of things. And it's this that people tend not to do after a binge. The initial feeling is unadulterated guilt, followed by self loathing and then starvation for the rest of the day.

Today's salvation.

Instead, today I did what I felt sensible. Having obliterated 33 of my daily points before even waking up, I had a green juice at Alice's house filled with spinach and fruits and flaxseeds and some nuts- after the evening's escapades I was also by no means 'hungry'. When I got home I had a peppermint tea to settle my, very unhappy, tummy and about a gallon of water before a long bath and a short nap. My mind and lack of sleep do not go well together. My lunch time salad was filled with greens, lean meat and some pulses for extra protein and fibre and my Chicken noodle soup worked in multiple ways. 1st it helped to heal my soul- I hear it's good for that, 2nd it was light but filling with plenty of vegetables, some lentils and my wholemeal pasta and 3rd I'm hoping it'll help keep the cold at bay for a little while longer. Tomorrow I shall be back in the gym, which I'm dreading as I cannot currently move without my muscles rebelling against yesterday's leg day and as I confessed the levels of overeating to Jemma I feel confident some very high intensity work is coming in the morning...

Accurate depiction of me today. Ow.

Basically, this blog post has been good for me as I can visualise just what the 'damage' was. This, I feel, is important because it's all a part of the accountability that I have adopted since losing weight. It is also important to me because I know there are many out there who have done, and will continue to do (we're only human) the same or very similar things who beat themselves up about it no end. To those people, I say don't. Tomorrow is another day and continuing to fret about stuff in the past is simply allowing negativity to live rent free in your mind. And frankly, life's just too short for that.