Not completely off the wagon

So, I cracked it. For some reason, there was a brain snap and I was suddenly in Coles, bottom lip out trying to not put the box of Guylian chocolates into the shopping basket. It wasn’t pretty.

Not sure why this happened. Week 2 started off pretty positive. I did a big food shop at the beginning of the week so I was all sorted for my meals. I had done a workout each day as per Michelle’s instructions. Heck, even the scales were nice to me and told me I’m down a bit again (yew!) But Thursday night it went a bit pear shaped and threw me off.

That night, I decided to go shopping for new sports-wear. Actually, to be specific I wanted to buy a crop-top. Now, this doesn’t seem like a big deal to most people, but for someone who has a fuller bust size (read: bazooka-level)  this is a huge deal. For me I’ve always worn a sensible sports bra that could double as a slingshot. I’ve never considered anything else. So crop-top shopping was on my agenda and WOWEE can I just say that these are the most comfortable darn things ever! For someone that cannot go without a bra for fear of blowin in the wind, this feels like the next best thing! So awesomely comfortable, I’m just bummed I didn’t get into this shit ages ago.

With my new life-changing purchases secured, I came home quite late on Thursday night to find the chicken in my fridge not looking very good, so there goes dinner for the night. I ended up with a mish-mash meal of peanut butter toast, a cup of tea and a couple of sneaky Cacao Fudge Bites (they are 12WBT friendly peeps, I swear!)   Also, as it was late there was no chance of making the patties that I needed for my lunch the next day so I knew I was going to be in trouble come lunch time tomorrow. Don’t judge me readers!! All I wanted was a good stretch, watch a few eps of Friends (so what? I’m reliving the goodness!) and to fall asleep by eleven pm is that so bad?!

Friday, now that I think about it, wasn’t going to end well seeing as it started off with me sleeping past my alarm, getting to work late and then dropping my yoghurt on the floor next to my desk.Yes, clearly I was on a roll. After a productive day in and out of the office (read: lunchtime shopping trip) I was home to do my Friday workout before the man got home and we could go to the shops for dinner ingredients.

Cue the Coles trip that could’ve lost me a boyfriend. I was already a bit cranky as I was hungry due to the lack of snacks I took to work that day (oh and in case you were wondering I had a Nandos wrap for lunch… It was a healthy one but I accidentally/on-purpose added cheese, so shoot me!)  As we walked the aisles, I stopped at the popcorn to pick up a bag thinking it would cure my craving for something naughty. Nope, put it back. What about a bag of.. nope put that back too. But when I saw the sweet little six pack of Guylian seashell chocolates… dear Lord, that poor man of mine almost bolted.

I’ve probably blown my chances of ever having children with him as he now knows what it’s like to have a child in the supermarket wanting something so badly that they’re  willing to stomp their feet for it. I wanted it!! I even checked how many calories it would cost me if I smashed the whole six (a mere 354 for those of you playing along at home) So in the basket it went. And then I took it out again. I held it in my hand, scrunched up my nose and looked at my boyfriend for his reaction. He’s a smart man though, told me to have it if I really wanted it. I’m sure he wanted to scream at me JUST EAT THEM YOU SILLY COW!! I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE IN A CRAP MOOD ALL NIGHT!! JUST EAT THEM!! If he had said no don’t do it then I probably would’ve taken it. But I didn’t. Me, of all people, put the beautiful little chocolates back on the shelf, sulked away and went home to have a yummy healthy meal.

I wish I could tell you that the moment I put that box back on the shelf was a proud and defining moment of this challenge. But no sorry, I can’t do that. I’m just a big baby.

So I haven’t fallen completely off the wagon. I’ve managed to cling on for dear life and sit back on it, though quite close to the edge. The next few weeks are going to get even harder with the silly season approaching so it’s going to be very interesting indeed.

But when this whole thing is over, bitch, those chocolates are mine.


I recently started on the Michelle Bridge 12 Week Body Transformation bandwagon and let’s just say.. it’s been an interesting ride.. and it’s only early days!!

Only four days into the challenge and already there has been a few hiccups. It’s been interesting to see how I handle these interruptions as I generally get cranky quite easily and once I crack the shits I tend to stay in a mood for quite some time. But, surprisingly, I’ve been pleasantly upbeat about it all.

Day 2 ended with me staying back at work longer than intended, so my first problem there was I missed my gym class. Secondly, I had a fight with my mum so I was a bit fired up and very cranky. Not really in the mood to workout! Third hiccup was that I hadn’t done my shopping for dinner that night so I was disappointed in myself for not being organised.

Luckily I have an amazing boyfriend who is super awesome and went to Coles for me (with the 12WBT recipe in hand) and got all the ingredients I needed for dinner that night. What a spunk! Hmm still need to pay out my reward for that good deed..  With the man off gathering food, I decided to put my fight with mum on hold and smash a home workout from the program. And I felt SO much better for doing it! I’m glad I did it, will remember that next time I’m not wanting to work out! And yes don’t worry, mother and I made up, we are such drama queens.

Day 3 hiccup consisted of the family dinner. Yup, only the beginning of the program and already having to make better meal choices when out for dinner. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS YET, PEOPLE!! And where do we go for dinner? The scrumptious il Pasto where they have all delightful meals full of meat, pasta and ohhh cheese! Being half Italian I must say I am a pasta freak. I love it. Unfortunately my ass does not.. so, to play along with the program, I had to rethink my choices.

And I will tell you now, it was torture. Never have I EVER been to an Italian restaurant and ordered something other than pasta, pizza or cotoletta. When the waiter came to ask me what I wanted, I very quickly closed my eyes and pointed to the grilled fish. FISH?! PESCHE? Ugh I was miserable. Did I want any salad? NO I do not want the salad you moron I want the biggest bowl of pasta you can find!! That’s what I really wanted to say…  And as the meals came out I squirmed in my seat and just stared at my dish. It was all I could do to stop myself from tackling my man out of his chair to steal his deliciously looking bowl of ragu. I will admit, I did sneak a mouse size nibble of his pasta to satisfy me and GAWD it was delish. And the fish was a bit of alright too. Definitely check this place out if you’re in the Inglewood hood peeps!

All said and done, I am super proud of myself for sticking to my guns and having the healthier option. It goes to show that even someone like me (who is soooo easily persuaded to eat all the bad stuff) is able to find the willpower inside and push through.

Let’s hope I can make it through another week without stabbing someone for a piece of chocolate..

Bikram Yoga – are you crazy?!

When faced with the prospect of getting all hot and sweaty in a room full of people, I generally can’t say no fast enough. How embarrassing to be worked-up so much to get that sweat trail lining the crack of your fancy gym pants, your hair getting all sweaty which you’ll then just have to wash (again!) and then there’s that little bit of tummy roll hanging ever so slightly over the top of those expensive pants. And you can’t stop staring at it in the full-wall length mirror they so kindly have in the studio. Which then gets you thinking “hmm I really should buy a new pair of pants since I’ve gained a few kilos”. But I won’t because a) I am delusional to think that I’ll ever be able to wear them with dignity even though I clearly am not pulling it off, and b) because I’ve never given two hoots about what I wear when exercising as this is a rare occasion so I generally buy a piece of gym gear every two years.

But *sigh* along comes this awesome new trend that every girl and her kitten are trying and by gosh it’s fabulous! Yes Jessie you should so give it a go! It will do wonders for your sleeping habits! Oh your muscles will feel amazing afterwards!…. Really? I’ve never felt “amazing” after a workout (unless the warm up included vodka shots and the cool down included shoving a guy out the front door before he realises you don’t know his name). But I decided to push myself for one of these sessions and give it a whirl. And so begins the class of hell, literally as it’s like a furnace in the room from the get go.

I am talking about Bikram Yoga. Yes, we’ve all done yoga at the local gym/community centre/self guided videos that you can pause at any time and never start again. Yoga is all about finding the strength within yourself, gaining flexibility, revitalising your body and mind. Awesome! Fantastic! I need some self love, let me in! But wait, there’s one added element to Bikram Yoga to make it just that little bit better: heat. And lots of it.

Now, I don’t know about you but I tend to sweat at the coldest of times, let alone in an exercise class. And a class that’s heated? Crap, this is definitely not a place where I’m going to find my next boyfriend. So off I trot to the studios not far from my place (walk there you say? Pfft I’m already doing one exercise thing tonight, let’s not push it) and as soon as you walk up the stairs you can feel the heat. The reception area is toasty and warm, nice for a cold Melbourne night, but if it’s like this in here I can only imagine what it’s like in the studio. I’m expecting Satan himself to be teaching the class.

As the class begins (after I’m moved to the middle of the room due to being a newbie) I realise that I am stuck here with these people for the next 90 minutes…Lord help me. Already my face is red and I look at myself in the mirror and think “why did you wear the pants with the bleach stains?” And “what is that mark on my top?” leaving myself feeling even more self conscious than ever being around a stack of skinny chicks wearing shorts and crop tops. A crop top? I think the last time I wore one of those I was about twelve and just getting boobs…now it’s a heavy duty sensible sports bra that could possibly pass as a slingshot.

The session is going along quite nicely, apart from the sweat dripping into my eyes, and I’m starting to think it’s not so bad. And then just after the half way mark, BAM! I hit a wall and I’m about to either throw up or pass out. Or maybe both but, before I do, I take the option to lie down through the next set…and the one after that. Laying there I could feel my heart racing a hundred miles an hour and the sheer burn of mascara in my eyes. Damn it why didn’t I take that makeup off!?  As the teacher walks through the class, dripping sweat on our unsuspecting bodies, she kindly informs me that using my hand towel to wipe the sweat off my face is just going to make me sweat even more. Shit lady I’m pretty sure that’s bound to happen anyway so give me a frickin break! I’m about to choke on my own sweat and she’s banging on about too much towel usage.

So to take my attention away from the sweatiness, I get up and give it another go. And not feeling too bad. Slowly working through the poses I am feeling slightly better. Until I hear something like a steady stream of water… Has someone lost control of their bladder?  Nope, just the guy in front of me sweating so much it’s dripping onto his mat and splashing away. Note to all Bikram Yoga goers: USE A TOWEL ON TOP OF YOUR MAT. The guy catches me staring and gives me a look as if to say “what, like your pants aren’t filling up with sticky sweat?” Yes, they sure are mate but at least my mat isn’t covered so much with sweat I could almost go for a swim. And apparently clothes are optional in these classes. Whilst the skinny girls are wearing crop tops and shorts, the guys are pretty much naked. And not in a good way. I’m pretty sure wearing just your undies in public is frowned upon these days, but there they are with their hairy chests and tight boy leg shorts, clinging to their bums for dear life. Not a good look, fellas.

And just like that it’s over. You lie down after it all and regain your breath whilst realising that after all that you don’t feel too bad. Your joints are feeling all good. That little pain in the hip seems to have moved for the time being. I walk to the door, feeling proud of myself that I’ve done something new, totally out of my comfort zone…all the while ignoring the mirror that gives me a great view of the nice sweat mark down the crack of my fancy gym pants.

Walking for charity? Piece of cake! Mmm…cake..

I know this is hard to believe but I, yes me, completed a 10km walk for charity. Yes I know, please save your standing ovation til the end of the speech. And I know what some of you are thinking… 10kms? Walking? Pffft whatever, Trevor! That’s nothing!

But let’s just remember who you’re talking to here. I am that person who baulks at the thought of walking to the shop just around the corner. Now, when I was asked if I would partake in this little event, I thought about it for about 5 seconds and said “sure!” (mainly just thinking if I had any social life on that date). Then once I realised what I’d actually said yes to I went to the oh crap phase. You know the one, when you’ve said yes to something that you actually have to follow through with. None of this “yeah sure I’ll come along!” to the neighbours art show, only to avoid them for the entire time leading up to the event then upon seeing them again after the date feigning some sort of work/illness/cat related vet story.  “So sorry I missed your crap show, I mean ART show. I was at work then got sick so I had to take my cat to the vet…”

So I signed up, prettied up my online donation page and waited. Nothing happened so I pasted a link to Facebook in the hopes that one of my 473 “friends” would donate something towards this fabulous cause. Nothing. Nada. Useless bunch of so-called friends. Even sent an email to Mum and Dad telling them to donate! I don’t think Dad even realised there was a link in the email that would take you to the webpage, apparently it was all too hard. Plus the first thing he said when I told him what I was doing was “Are you sure you’re just not walking to the pub?” Thanks for the support Pops.

Anyway, so I decidedly forgot about the impending event and just went about my normal, non-exercising life and pretending like nothing was going on. Until I got a week out from the event and realised I was the loser on my team who had no donations. Thought I’d better put in some dollars to make myself look good but so far that was it.. damnit, I was going to have to do some selling here.

Once I sent an email to my “real” friends (all with valid email addresses, none imaginary) I managed to get quite a good response quickly! Including the smart arses having a good laugh at my expense, again with the walking to the pub comments! I think I really need to rethink my social appearances… but within 2 days I’d reached my goal amount and I was chuffed! Once again I realised that I really did have to go ahead with this as I think raising money for charity and not going through with the deal is high on the list as valid entry for HELL. So I did it. But it wasn’t that easy. Well, kinda.

I suppose the worst thing about it was that it was gosh darn bloody freezing! And a Sunday. Day of rest. Walking around a lake in winter is probably not the best idea. Even with 5,000 other people. These people will not keep you warm. They just get in your way of trying to walk as quickly as possible without doing your hip in. Second of all, kids and dogs should not be allowed to run off the leash. And yes I mean kids too. And the kid on the scooter, seriously punk I am this close to giving you a swift kick in that lake and let the swans nibble at your tiny brain. And what about the people running in the wrong direction!? Really, I know you do this every Sunday cos you need to keep yourself busy as you don’t have a social life, but as you can see there are 5,000 people walking in the opposite direction to you…choose another path or I will trip you over.

But really, it wasn’t a very eventful task, pretty stock standard walking really, so there’s not even much else I can tell you about. Nothing even remotely interesting happened! Though me and my 2 walking companions pretty much talked about food the entire 10kms and made ourselves so hungry that we ended up having a mad cook up and some wine when we finished just to reward ourselves, so really the walking didn’t even do much for me health wise… But I did feel that blood pumping through the legs and once you got used to that damn fresh air it was quite nice to be outdoors and feeling good for doing something different on a Sunday instead of crawling around the house whilst hungover looking for Panadol and Powerade to get you feeling human again.

I must admit though, I did take the easy route and chose the walk option instead of the run so I got lucky this time around. And I do feel good about raising money for charity. I’ve always donated to charities when possible but giving your money is one thing. Donating your time, money and raising awareness to something else. So I challenge everyone to do some event like this in their lifetime. And I promise next year the run part will be considered…I promise!

I must admit though, I did take the easy route and chose the walk option instead of the run so I got lucky this time around. And I do feel good about raising money for charity, I’ve always donated to charities when possible but giving your money is one thing. Donating your time, money and raising awareness to something else. So I challenge everyone to do some event like this in their lifetime. And I promise next year the run part will be considered…I promise!