Tag Archives: ice-cream

Could be worse

As the (work) week starts to wrap up and I procrastinate actioning the emails in my inbox, I sit here listening to some relaxing, meditative music via the you tube and think about how my week unfolded…

I’d love to say it was a box of fluffy ducks but it wasn’t. It was a pretty average week, if you forget about the “the day that shall not be named”. It was Tuesday (oh no, I said it!) and it was not a good day. I went to bed grumpy on Monday, for no good reason at all; had nothing to be grumpy about. I woke up grumpy on Tuesday morning and it slowly got worse as the day unfolded. Nothing bad happened. Nothing at all! I couldn’t put my finger on why I was a little dark cloud all day long. I expressed my grumpiness to my sister and to Scott who both took it upon themselves to do lovely things for me to try and cheer me up. 

After a phone call to my sister, I was looking forward to going over to her house for tea (enchiladas…arreeeba!) and picking up something really bad for us for pudding. I got home to a lovely letter from the Mr outlining all the reasons he loves to love me which was so sweet it made me cry. Not his intention, but effective none the less because, if you’re a lady, you’ll know that sometimes it’s just quite nice to have a good bawl. Which I did. I realised I’d had a stressful weekend trying to arrange a friend’s surprise 30th birthday within a time frame of less than 48 hours. It was exciting and as I’m fairly good at coordinating people in secret, it was pulled off (with help from others) and she was surprised. But the concentration on the task at hand meant my other good habits slipped by the wayside. Like drinking enough water, eating actual meals instead of grazing on things I’m mostly intolerant to and avoiding too much alcohol. I’d internalised the stress of it all and it must have started to surface on Monday night.

So after the letter and the cry and some meditation on my bedroom floor, I felt 85% better and thought “it could be worse”.

This was affirmed as I ventured towards my car, off to my sisters, and saw the following on the road…

Image

Not the greatest photo as it was taken with my phone and the light was disappearing into night time. A well timed car was passing as I took the shot so you get a better look at what appears to be a large, three scoops ice-cream crying it’s way down the side of the road.

I actually laughed out loud as I was taking the photo because as bad as my day had been, at least I hadn’t dropped my three scoop ice cream on the road, meters from the dairy I bought it from, as well. 

Dinner was delicious and I was gifted a pretty long stemmed, orange rose from my sister to add to the cheer. She also told me not to bring my grump to her house so I had to consciously decide not to be grumpy in order to be a good house guest instead of one you wish never turned up. 

The rest of the week has been largely uneventful and I’m thankful for that. It could be worse, I could be Miley Cyrus or live in Syria. 

Or I could be Rachael in Vancouver who seems to be in good spirits despite a series of unfortunate events: read here

I hope you all had/are having a good week and that despite any of the bad things that could have happened to you in the last few days, it could always be a lot worse. Happy Friday! xx

 

this body of mine

It is my new mission to become re-obsessed with getting my body in shape. Trimming the fat. Cutting out the shit. Kicking myself up the arse. Why? Because I let myself go – I am a “before” picture. I weighed myself in New York in September of 2010 and then again in NZ back in January this year and I’d put on 12kgs. I was not happy. I knew I’d put on weight and I knew it wasn’t even gradual over that time, it was more like the last six or seven months of that, after husband (then boyfriend) and I moved in together. Winter set in and I didn’t feel like exercising because our apartment was a nice little dark and cosy cave I found solitude in. And the cupboards had snacks in them. Those naughty cupboards.

A few months ago (before husband arrived in NZ and I was dirt poor) I was starting to swim in my jeans (not actual swimming), my tummy was flattening and clothes were generally getting a bit looser – I could even buckle my belt a notch in, this same belt I used to buckle at the first notch when I first bought it. The reason this was happening was due to biking every day after work because I had no TV to watch and nothing better to do to kill the time before sleep. I also didn’t have a lot in the house to eat so I was surviving on pumpkin soup, smoothies, rice and curries. No meat, hardly any dairy and certainly no treats.

Then I started to get paid after a few months of not working, husband arrived bringing a little bit of money with him, then he started working so money was a little more abundant and we could have things in our groceries like cheese and meat and the odd bag of chips, wine, candy and the rest. And a meal out! Usually Indian with rich curries, rice and naan bread AND onion bhajis…creamy, carby foods on a regular basis.

So, even though I was doing my best to keep biking every day after work, there was more food to be eating and the good tv (sky/cable) had been installed; there were less and less reasons to go outside to kill time. I had TV for that now. The biking went down from four to five times a week of 40mins to two or three times, to once and sometimes not at all. I did get sick for a couple of weeks as well as realising I was probably iron deficient which made me tired easily and, in general, I wasn’t feeling up to doing much. Since then I have really become too lazy for my own good.

I started back up with my yoga practice a couple of weeks ago as mentioned in this post. It agitates my ribs a little bit but I can feel the improvement in my strength in my arms and am seeing some muscle definition. Now to lose the layer of chub that surrounds it and prevents me from looking like a goddess.

Summer is looming (as well as the NZ version of our wedding) and this body of mine is not in any condition to be seeing the sun in all it’s glory, let alone being photographed a thousand times on the happiest day of my life. I was a chubby bride in Canada and I only like one photo because, to me, I looked like a sausage stuffed into a dress at the last minute in the rest of them. I am currently pasty, wobbly and a bit squishy. I am trying to train my brain to eat well, exercise more and to in-still good habits into my day. It’s not even so much the junk that I eat, I don’t eat a lot of junk. I just eat…a lot. And being gluten intolerant and non dairy friendly, I sometimes can’t help myself when it comes to bread and cheese. Scott isn’t intolerant of either of those things (just intolerant of me ;)…) so we still have bread and dairy in the house for his lunches.

I used to have the BEST self discipline! I’d say no to any kind of bad food offered to me at a friends house, I’d carry water eeeeverywhere (I still do) and I didn’t eat out as often. I also wasn’t that into cooking elaborate banquets for my dinner every night like I tend to want to do now. Now that I have a little bit more disposable income, all I want to do is eat out! I love food; I would consider myself an amateur foodie and one of my all time fave things to do is go out and eat. Or stay home and cook. Hang out with friends and cook and eat. And I’m mad at myself. Mad that I used to have a really nice body and I took it for granted and STILL wasn’t happy with it. Mad that I’ve let myself get to this stage when I know what/how to keep the weight off yet I don’t do it.

SO I’ve had enough. I’m at my wicks end. The camel’s back hath been broken. I’m starting to take action and hopefully by writing this post, I’ll be encouraged to continue with my new good habits. To help me, I’ve printed out some phrases to stick on the cupboards, fridge and doors of the apartment  reminding me why I want to be good. They aren’t the nicest phrases and are quite self deprecating but they need to be. I don’t loathe myself, I am just disappointed, I WANT to get mad! Personal trainers don’t help you lose weight by wrapping their clients in cotton wool and saying “ok, just two press ups and then let’s go get ice-cream”. No, they yell and they push and they push until the client gets mad and reaches breaking point. There is sweat and there is tears but, ultimately, there is action.

I can’t afford a personal trainer and I don’t like to be yelled at, so I am the motivator. I am moving in a couple of months so joining a gym is out of the question. The only thing standing in my way is me and maybe torrential rain. It’s up to me to get myself on my bike and go for a ride everyday. Not every second day because I feel I deserve a rest – no, every day. With maybe a rest on Sunday – I’ll have earned it by then anyway 🙂

As for the treats? Just say no. Just say no. Just say no….