Weigh To Go / Weigh-In Day

Just a quick one today to update the stats after my weekly weigh-in. I know technically it’s actually really early on a Tuesday morning here, but I’ve been asleep for about 14 hours and am only just about able to bring myself to post here now. I’m still super-tired and will probably head back to bed again real soon, but I had to at least hit the scales and see what – if any – changes there were to be seen on this week where one “has the painters in”. (Sorry, I swear I’m going to stop talking about my TOM sometime real soon…it’s just pretty relevant to the whole losing weight thing so I want to put all the info out there for y’all to point and laugh at.)

We began the week waiting for the “visitation” to hit, expecting it to show a gain on the scale….and it did NOT disappoint, lol. Yeah, I managed to gain 3lbs overnight (and no, I wasn’t trying to ameliorate my PMS with chocolate and cake and whatnot…it really just did that all by itself!) which disappeared again a day or so after upon arrival of “The communists currently squatting in my neighbourhood and kicking my arse from the inside out”. Every TOM for me is a total joy that lasts anything from 7-10 days and we’re on (I think) day 6 now, so it’s still going on, pissing me off on a daily basis, and sucking my will to live. Because of that I wasn’t expecting much else in the way of weight loss this week. I’ve remained 100% on plan and not been tempted to indulge in any evil “carbage”, but I still feel bloated & sore, like a well-kicked space-hopper.

So imagine my surprise when upon venturing onto said scales earlier, it showed a reading of 17 stone 7lb (245lb)!

“Another 3lb down? In this economy?”

Well, I’m pretty shocked, but I’ll definitely take it. I’m at the point where anything from 1-3lb loss a week is the normal amount I can expect to lose, so this is just a reassurance that things are still pretty much ticking over as normal – even if I do feel like death warmed up and wish I could just donate my uterus to anyone who wants it. (Seriously, if anyone wants it, just enquire within. One responsible female owner. No previous tenants. Free to a good home. Not even really joking at this point.)

So 3lb down. All good. Stats have been updated and we now head into the next week still not particularly hungry, eating & staying on plan, and keeping on keeping on.

Have a wonderful week y’all,

Blue

FEAR

Guys, I’ve got ‘The Fear‘.

That ominous, terrifying feeling in the pit of one’s stomach that signifies some impending sense of doom.

It’s not depression – I’m way too familiar with the black dog that has previously sat upon my shoulder – and it’s not really anxiety – something else I’m more than adequately acquainted with. No, this isn’t just my brain playing tricks on me with its neurochemical mischievousness, this is a genuine worry, rooted firmly in reality, about the potential for something terrible to happen in the near or not-too-distant future.

I’m afraid of failure folks.

Now before you start to guffaw that

“honey, we all worry about screwing up”

at various times in our lives and for multiple reasons…I KNOW that. I’m human too (believe it or not) I’ve faced challenges and difficulties like everyone else and I’ve had times when it’s felt as though I was skating through situations by the skin of my teeth. We all do. But this is different. This is new to me. I’m not used to doubting my own ability to achieve something I decide to put my mind to. I’m a very stubborn little madam and a lot of the time, it’s my own sense of personal pride that forces me to tune into an inner indomitable source of determination. I don’t like letting myself down – and I sure as shit don’t want other people to see me failing to meet my own standards – so it’s probably more obstinacy than tenacity, but either way, it’s served me well any time I’ve set my mind to something. My other half always laughs whenever someone provokes me into a battle of wills:

“Dude, seriously, she is never going to give up; might as well quit now and walk away, save yourself the hassle, cause she’s as stubborn as a mule!”

And he’d be right. I’ve done a bunch of moronic shit, just because someone said I couldn’t do it. And I’ve achieved some cool stuff too, because I just went out there and decided to do it. I’ve never really not had faith in my ability to do things, largely because I was raised to understand the meaning of hard work, the importance of dedication and the value of constantly learning new things. I was also raised to believe that I am utterly fucking awesome, which did actually turn up to be completely 100% true!

Joking aside though, I’ve recently found myself experiencing some genuine self doubt. And I don’t like it. What has caused this psychological-wobble in my normally steadfast psyche I hear you ask? Well it’s all down to my having spent hours on the lowcarber.org forum, reading through the journals of a few of the members on there. It’s a pretty big site, with vast archives of information, articles, recipes and whatnot, but what really “makes” the site, are the members, their experiences, their knowledge, their input and their own weight-loss stories. “Journals” are a function whereby members can create a thread of their own, in which to record anything they like, whilst having other members visit, read & comment on their entries. It’s not perfect (I do have one, but for me, having this blog gives me more room to do what I want, so I use mine for mini-musings & updates) but it’s a great way to keep the community aspect of the forum interactive, and many people find that updating theirs regularly, helps to keep them accountable. For a newbie who wants an inside view on real people living a low-carb life, it’s incredibly insightful. Members are very honest about their losses, gains, screw-ups, cheats, worries, carb-blow-outs and a whole load of other things that you might not even think about before embarking upon a new WOE. I’ve really enjoyed reading through a few of them over the past few weeks, but just recently, they’ve started to give me ‘The Fear’.

So many people start off so positively, choosing a plan, sticking to the plan, truly embracing their new way of life and the resulting weight loss. These are smart people who have taken the time to read a lot of literature on not just the various low-carb approaches, but the science behind them and various other biological/physiological processes that happen in the human body. They’ve planned their low-carb WOE out well in advance, they’ve stayed engaged with the forum and everything seemed to be going great-guns…but then, for some reason, in SO MANY instances, they just lose that motivation, stop eating on plan and end up either gaining a load of weight back that they have to re-lose (often with some extra bonus pounds because mother nature is a straight savage like that) or they disappear forever, never to be heard of again. And there are quite a lot of people who have to keep coming back and recommitting to a strict, low-carb WOE, time and time again, because for whatever reason, they just went awry.

And that fucking terrifies me.

Because what’s going to stop ME from being one of those people? How do I know that I won’t hit a stall after a couple of months and after seeing no movement on the scale, just lose my shit and go “fuck it”, headfirst into the nearest chocolate gateau? How do I know I won’t hit the bloody menopause and just randomly gain 20lbs overnight, because – again – mother nature’s a bitch (and at 40 years old, I have no idea how close that not-so-little change is for me). Obviously life is always throwing up a bunch of little emergencies and crises – for all of us – but I’m not as worried about those external issues, because I’ve never been an ’emotional eater’. I’m worried because this is something that might just be beyond my control; beyond my ability to achieve. Our bodies might be the most sophisticated machines in the known universe, but my god, they can be temperamental, unpredictable mofos at times. If the human body was a motorbike it’d be an highly-tuned, expensive Italian model: sexy AF and a lot of fun to put through its paces, but ridiculously prone to random break-downs. Okay, so my body is more like a 1970’s Fiat Punto (squat, slow & perpetually plagued with engine issues), but you know what I’m getting at.

I don’t want to be sitting at my computer, 10 years from now, recommitting to a low-carb WOE for the 5th or 6th time, hoping that this attempt will be the one that finally succeeds. That’s not me sitting in judgement of those who are on attempt 4, 5, 6 or 10 – far from it. Their honesty, their heart and their faith in getting the plan to succeed are incredibly humbling and very inspirational. No, the reason I don’t want to have to still be trying to make this work for me 10 years down the line, is because I just don’t think my body has that long to fix this issue, before my health issues cause me to lose mobility altogether and become potentially bedridden. I’m not doing this to look “hot”. I’m of average attractiveness and being slimmer isn’t going to change the fact that I already have an amazing other half, who has never made me feel anything less than perfect to him. I’m not about to go full cougar mode and start trying to bed a bunch of younger men (I mean, I’ve always had more of a thing for the older guys to be honest, but you know what I mean) if I manage to hit goal weight. Heck, I’m still going to be 50lb overweight if I hit GW, but it will have made a huge amount of difference to my health and hopefully slowed the progressive deterioration that will otherwise destroy any quality of life I may have once enjoyed.

Reading those journals…those incredibly candid real life tales of so many people who started off their low-carb WOE with much the same preparation & mindset as myself, only to fail…it’s really put the frikers on me. Sure, a lot of them got back up, dusted themselves off and got right back on the low-carb wagon (many, many times in many, many cases) but my brain has started freaking out. What if that happens to me? What am I going to do, if I just can’t make this work? What will happen to me if I get to my halfway point, mess up, gain everything back and another 30lbs into the bargain, and never manage to get my weight fully under control?

I know what most people will be thinking:

“Well you just start again. You try again. You only fail if you give up entirely!”

Yeah, I know that. That’s what I’d say to someone myself. But I’ve already put this off for far too long and my body is screaming at me to sort my shit out ASAP, because if I don’t, things are only going to get worse. I can’t afford to fail and fail and fail again. The quality of my life, as well as that of my other half, depend on me succeeding in getting my weight under control. Naturally, my immediate instinct upon approaching a problem, is to meet it head-on and engage my stubbornness, my focus; my obstinacy. I’m used to being able to apply myself and get what I want. But this particular problem has so many potential secondary problems, that may or not be within my control; which is evidenced by the sheer number of other people who fail to make it happen for themselves. Of course there are the success stories on the forum – those who have gotten down to GW and maintained it – but they are far outweighed (no pun intended) by the swathes of member profiles who have failed & quit, or failed & kept on at this, in a perpetual battle with the bulge.

Studying the journals and the testimonies of those who have faltered, fucked up and failed, I find myself scrutinising their every word. What was it that made you stop? Why did you go off-plan? Why didn’t you just succeed the first time around? I know the answers would be many and varied, but I feel as though if I could just pin down the exact reasons and understand their motivations, I’d somehow be able to better prepare myself and avoid those same pitfalls. I know, I know, I’m asking for answers that people the world over have been wanting to know for aeons – I might as well be asking someone to figure out the secrets of the universe and forward them in an email to me in their lunch-break. But I desperately want to disaster-proof my own attempt at getting to a much healthier weight AND maintaining it.

Right now, all I can do is recommit to this new, lifelong WOE, every single day when I get up. I need to begin every day with the same proactive, determined mindset that I began with a month ago and never lose sight of my goal. This is a loooong road I have ahead of me and temptations will present themselves all along the way. I need to find a way to make my resolve bulletproof and maintain my motivation going forward. I’ve found it easy enough so far, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that it will continue to be that easy for me. I just wish I knew the “secrets” behind why some people succeed and others fail. My brain wants facts; stats; explanations that it can qualify, quantify and use to keep me on track. I just want the sure-fire key to success.

Is that really too much to ask?

Curiouser & Curiouser… / Weigh In Day

“My Tits Are On Fire.”

I will never not find that funny.

And it IS relevant, believe me (not that anyone should really ever have to have an excuse to watch clips from ‘The IT Crowd’) because dear reader, today I am STILL in the throes of what feels like an unending bout of PMS, waiting for the inevitable, so I can see what it does to mess up my weight. My temperature is up a bit, I’m a wee bit snappy with the other half (sainted long term sufferer that he is), I feel bloated like a space-hopper and my tits really hurt: achy and warm, yes it feels like my tits are on fire. Yay for mother nature.

I had expected the monthly “visitation” to be upon me by now – my body sure has been telegraphing its arrival well in advance – and for the first time in my life I’ve actually been wanting it to just hurry up and happen, because I really want to see what affect it will have on my weight. Will it make me gain a load of water weight? Will it derail me completely and make me regain some actual poundage (excellent word!) or will it just make me hit a stall and sit where I’ve been all week? I have no idea. I have no previous TOMs to compare it to. This is the first “visitation” from mother nature, since I started my low-carb WOE and I’m desperate to know how it will affect everything.

Throughout the previous week, I went against my own rule of only weighing every Monday and found myself hovering over the scale every day to see if I’d get that ‘whoosh’ of sudden weight gain I’ve been anticipating. I hate daily weighing. It makes me feel like a slave to the scale. I don’t care if my weight goes down 3lb on Wednesday but shows only 1lb lost overall by the following Monday. That initial drop, for me, doesn’t count. It’s what I weigh on Monday that matters. Any clinging to the notion that I lost some earlier on in the week seems a little delusional to me. I mean sure, I weighed 15 stone…once (looong time ago, lol). But that was then, not now. I’ve gotta draw the line under things on weigh-in day and just go with what the scale says. To gain too much satisfaction from having lost “yesterday” is like dwelling in the past because the present is too miserable to want to face up to. That’s not me. I’m about facing down the shit that’s right in front of me and dealing with it. Clinging to the weight loss of a few days ago when I’ve gone and regained some since just makes me feel like some big fat Miss Havisham, sat in my wedding dress, reliving the time when I believed someone loved me. Fuck that noise.

Back to the daily weighing though…aside from making me feel grimy and pathetic like an anorexic who jumps on obsessively, to see if 2 bites from an apple have caused the scale to to move…it didn’t show me the results I was expecting. I was SO SURE that I’d see a gain (I feel bloated enough to be holding a gallon of water under my skin right now) that I was almost disappointed when it didn’t happen. Is that a bit mental? Probably. But I sort of expected it as a sign that my body was doing everything normal, like every other woman during this time of the month. NOT seeing any, kind of has me wondering WHEN that gain is going to hit. And for some reason, in my head, I feel like the later it occurs, the bigger it’s going to be. I have no real logical reason for that…except maybe my tortured noggin is equating the fact that when periods are a bit late, they’re a bit more “intense” (lol, I’m trying to not gross out my male readers here), with TOM weight gain. I don’t even know if that makes any sense to me right now. I just want it to happen so I know where I stand. Do you know what I mean?

Mother nature is a cruel mistress, I know that much. And I know that once the dreaded “visitation” IS upon me, I’ll be miserable and moaning for it to be over, but at least I’ll have gotten to see what the scale makes of this little occasion. Right now I’m feeling uncomfortable, because I DON’T know what to expect. I hate not knowing or understanding things. It torments me. (I’ll never empathise with those who have incurious, apathetic minds. I mean sure, folk say ignorance is supposed to be bliss, but not round these parts. I want to know EVERYTHING and I want to know it all NOW!) Seriously mother nature, just curse me and be done with it!

Anyway…so despite the daily weigh-ins, nothing showed up to suggest I was due to get my “visitation”. Quite the opposite in fact. Because when I got on the scale this morning to get my official weekly stats, it showed me as having lost another 6lbs over the past week. Which is great. I mean yes, I’m happy with that and it will go down as an official new weight because that’s what it read first thing on a Monday morning, but I’m also sort of reluctant to be too happy with it, because I’m still waiting for that TOM-related fluctuation to hit. I know that probably sounds a bit batty to a lot of you, but I’m trying to navigate previously uncharted (for me) seas here. Once I’ve gotten this month’s “visitation” over and done with and things go back to normal, I’ll feel much more comfortable and safer in the knowledge that I kind of understand my own body more. Because this is all a bit new and weird to me. It’s the first time I’ve properly decided to try to lose weight and been committed to the process. I’m not one of those yo-yo dieting women who spent their 20’s counting calories and trying to aerobicize away whatever meagre fat grams they allowed to pass their lips. I’m still finding my feet and won’t be comfortable until I’ve got a another month or so under my belt.

But yeah, as of now, last week is showing a loss of another 6lb. And yes I am happy (when I’m not being a massive, crotchety bitch who dissolves in a tearfully pathetic and dramatic collapse every time I drop a pen, or knock something off the counter) with that, but I’ll be happier this time next week when I can say I know a bit more about how the whole “visitation” shenanigans will/do affect me. I don’t care if it makes me gain a bit back for a few days, as long as I know where I am and what to expect in the coming months.

This has probably been the most miserable sounding, unappreciative, anti-climactic response anyone has ever given to almost losing another half a stone in a week, but hey, I’m nothing if not original, y’all. You guys don’t come here to read the same old boring food diary shtick saying:

“This is what I had to eat today and this is what I weigh. I bet you’re fucking fascinated!”

If I achieve anything with this blog, it’ll be to give a real, honest, true account of what goes through a middle-aged woman’s mind, as she tries for the first time, to fight the flab.

Because anyone can tell you what they had for dinner…but who else is going to tell you that their tits are on fire, huh?

No one who isn’t charging you money to see them on their ‘OnlyFans’ that’s for sure.

Have a wonderful week, you beautiful people!

Blue

Wombsday Prepping

I do love me a good, funny euphemism.

Okay, so before I go any further, as you can see from the above pic, today’s conversation is going to be about mother nature’s curse upon all women, so male readers probably won’t want to tune in for this particular post. And no, you won’t be berated by me for wanting to get the frick outta Dodge; I’m not one of those demented feminist fuckwits who seem to want to emasculate men on every level – which recently seems to include trying to force y’all to want to talk about periods and become all au fait with everything menstrual…for some weird reason – no, I’m still of the old-school way of thinking where I’m perfectly happy for you guys to just, give us haemorrhaging-harridans a pound of chocolate and a wide berth. This is our gross and annoying burden and there’s no reason y’all have to be equally grossed out and annoyed during these few days too. So yeah, if you don’t fancy reading this entry, I totally understand and will look forward to seeing you here again for the next post. Conversely, if you’re not fussed by the “Red Peril”, well by all means stick around. It’s not going to be indelicately gross, or anything like that. I just thought you boys deserved a heads-up so you can make the choice for yourselves.

Right, now we’ve gotten that little proviso out of the way, we can get down to the subject matter at hand. Namely….“SHARK WEEK”! (I love that term!). Because I’m into week 3 of Atkins now; I’ve been doing okay and have decided to continue on at the induction level of 20g carbs max per day, for the foreseeable future. Currently I’m happily in ketosis and have very little appetite. I’m having 3 “meals” a day (small breakfast, shake for lunch, meat & veg for dinner) and am trying to make sure I consume enough fats to keep me losing steadily. I’m not having any real cravings for anything sweet for the most part. But in the upcoming week, all that is probably going to change…and I’d really like to be prepared for it!

Yes, it will be my first encounter with “Aunt Flo” since embarking upon a low-carb WOE and I have no idea how it’s all going to play out. I’ve never been one of those psychotic chicks who seem to morph into a combination of both ‘Carrie’ AND ‘Mommy Dearest’ whenever I’ve “Got The Painters In”, but I do notice some mood changes. For about a day before the “Red Wedding” itself, I’m usually a lot more sensitive, prone to crying over cat videos on the internet and also a little less patient with my other half. But I’m by no means impossible and that’s probably going to be about the same this next “Time Of The Month”…right?

What I AM more concerned with, is the godforsaken cravings. Jeez…I mean I’ve always had a sweet tooth and have been known to literally inhale a Snickers bar when the mood takes me. But in the few days leading up to the arrival of “Captain Scarlet And The Mysterons” I become a one-woman treat-seeking missile. Cravings so bad that they fill my mind with a constant film-reel of images of cake, chocolate cake, chocolate cookies, chocolate mousse, chocolate bars, and steaming mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows melting on top. IT’S LITERALLY ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT!!

All day. Every day. For about three days leading up the “Big Day” I become irrationally fixated on almost nothing but chocolate. Often even forgoing any real food, in favour of another box of Cadbury’s Creme Eggs. Yes. I get THAT ridiculous.

But this time around, things are going to be very different. I’m not going to be able to consume sugar-laden, choco-fests with wild abandon – I’ve chosen not to eat that way anymore. So what will I be eating? I don’t even know yet. Shit! I’m really going to have to try to prepare for “When Arsenal Will Be Playing At Home” this month aren’t I? For one, I have no idea how those cravings are going to play out. Will they rear their ugly heads as usual, mocking me with their tempting offers of a nice, easy break from this WOE? I can almost imagine them like actual demonic temptresses inside my head…Disney-esque witches, bitches and crones, all beckoning me over to the ‘dark side’ (where I have it on good authority that they have cookies!) Will I be strong enough to fight them off, or will my weak, cramp-ridden carcass simply succumb to the path of least resistance and end up caving in to the craving-monster and whatever it is she demands??

Urgh…I just don’t know folks. I’ve been taking a chromium picolinate with my other supplements for a while now. I don’t know if it’s had much of an effect on my sugar cravings thus far – the ketosis itself seems to be taking care of that right now; but I’m hoping that they might at least help a little in staving off the usually insane cravings next week. Also, I have no idea if those cravings will be as bad as usual, now that I’ve been sticking to no more than 20g of carbs a day. Maybe they won’t be as severe this time around – who knows? But the fact that this IS such uncharted territory, makes me somewhat worried; worried enough to want to have something potent in my arsenal, should the dreaded craving-monster slap me upside the head with one of its tentacles of temptation.

So I’ve been looking through a bunch of recipes on Pinterest, for a low-carb alternative to my usual “On The Rag” fayre. I’m really not much of a cook. I hate it in fact. I’ll never understand anyone who cooks for pleasure or to relax…for me it’s a grim, boring, messy, pain in the arse which takes me away from doing other more interesting things. Like reading. Or watching politics & econ streams on YouTube. I spend as little time in the kitchen as possible, so any new recipe I might try is going to have be real simple. I wanted something like a chocolate cake, but most of the recipes for proper cake seemed to have a lot of almond flour in them and were too carb-heavy for where I am on the Atkins plan. Then I cam across the following, which seems absolutely perfect for me: Keto Lava Cake that comes in at about 4g carbs per serving.

“NOM!”

It’s quick, it’s easy, it involves very few ingredients and it doesn’t require me having to purchase any other new kitchen equipment. Served with a little whipped cream, this could be a real life-saver in those moments of hormonally driven weakness. The recipe is courtesy of LowCarbSpark.com and can be found in its entirety here for those who are interested.

The next easy recipe I settled on was for something I can either eat WITH the lava cake (if I’m feeling especially sorry for myself at that particular time) or just have in a bowl in the refrigerator to dip a spoon into, any time a rogue sweet-tooth needs some immediate comestible amelioration. Easy Keto Chocolate Mousse! The recipe makes 4 servings (allegedly, lol) at just 1.5g of carbs a serving; so it’s still well within my daily allowance if I want to eat some with the aforementioned lava cake. Hell, I could even go buck mad and eat all 4 servings in one sitting if “Bloody Mary” leaves me with a desperate hankering for some sweet, sweet, puddin’, lol.

Sweet, chocolatey, floofy goodness!

Ingredients
2 oz unsalted butter

2 oz cream cheese

3 oz heavy whipping cream, whipped

1 tbsp cocoa powder

stevia, to taste

Directions
Soften butter and combine with sweetener, stirring until completely blended.

Add cream cheese; blend until smooth.

Add cocoa powder and blend completely.

Whip heavy cream and gradually add to the mixture. (You may also add 1 tsp of coconut oil or MCT oil.)

Spoon into small glasses and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

*EAT*

(This recipe comes courtesy of Low Carb Diem and can be found in its entirety here)

So they are the 2 simple recipes I’ve decided to try and have a go at this upcoming week, in order to try and have something safe, but still decadent to eat, whilst “The Communists Are Squatting In My Neighbourhood”, and kicking my arse from the inside out.

As I’ve said before, I’m not normally an emotional eater. When I’m sad I tend to lose my appetite. But once the hormonal-bitch-mode is upon me, that tetchiness really makes me want to just lie face-down in Willy Wonka’s Choco River, until the “Crimson Tide” retreats back later in the week.

I’ve also got some Agnus-Castus supplements to take, which are supposed to help with cramps, but because life is never simple and god obviously hates me, I also have some Mefenamic Acid to take if things get a bit too heavy. I don’t think either of those will have any negative contraindications, either with my other meds/supplements or my WOE. Other than that, there’s not much more I can do to prepare for the upcoming “Season Of The Witch”.

But if anyone dares to try and suggest that I do fricking YOGA to relieve any of my symptoms over the coming week, I will NOT be held responsible for my actions!

Women have walked free from murder charges, thanks to PMS you know?

Y’all have been warned, lol!

Seek Discomfort

There’s a really interesting way of looking at our life challenges, running throughout this blog post. It’s not a ‘weight loss’ blog or post, but the underlying notion of seeking out ‘that which we really want, but are scared to try’, is universally applicable to all of us with dreams, plans & goals. It’s also just a really gorgeous blog, so y’all should definitely go check it out.

Hannes van Eeden

Many people have told me that the quote “Seek Discomfort“, doesn’t make any sense. Why would you want to do that?

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Well…Who’d’ve Thunk It? / Weigh-In Day

Yeah, yeah, I know…double contractions in written English aren’t exactly ‘Strunk & White’ approved, but this isn’t a thesis and you ain’t my lit prof, bro, so allow me a little artistic license, m’kay? Okay, so cursory castigations out of the way, we can now move on to the much more important matters at hand…namely, the size of my arse!

“But it’s hard to get by, when your arse is the size of a small country…”

~ ‘The National Express’ by The Divine Comedy

Sorry – couldn’t resist. I love that song and that’s probably one of the funniest lyrics ever written. And I’m in a surprisingly good mood today too, after a bit of an unexpected win on the scales yesterday. If you’ve been following my progress on this blog up to now, you’ll remember that a few days ago, after some sickness and my rather lazy consumption of some protein bars that weren’t kosher (no I’m not Jewish…I just love sprinkling in the odd bit of Yiddish, here and there…because it sounds cool) I did a mid-week weigh-in (not something I really want to be getting into the habit of this early on in the game) only to find that I’d gained 3lb! That was pretty gutting, but I’d sensed that I’d gained the moment I got up – and I’d prepared myself for these ups, as well as the downs, before I started on this low-carb WOE. Not one to dwell too much on misery, I decided to just chalk it up to experience and carry on as normal, sticking to the plan in the hope that I could at least undo a bit of the damage before weigh-in day.

So imagine my shock when upon hitting the scales yesterday, I was greeted with a reading of 18 stone 2lbs (254lb) – that’s 4lbs less than last week AND means that I’ve also shifted the 3lbs gained mid-week, meaning…that’s a 7lb loss overall this past week!

How in the name of all that is holy, did I manage to pull that one off?

Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m assuming it was partly to do with me still being early on in my weight loss journey (so my body is more willing to give up the extra weight) and maybe also because I remained completely, strictly on plan for the rest of week, allowing my body to get back into ketosis. Either way, I’ll take it!

It has however, made me think more on the idea of weighing myself more than once a week. I know a lot of people like to weight themselves daily (I’ve heard some say it keeps them more accountable) but if my weight can fluctuate so much in a 7-day period, I don’t think it’ll be particularly helpful to me to get on the scale more than once a week. In fact, if this past week has been anything to go by, it’s really just made me a little more anxious to have had that blip a few days ago. As tempting as it may be to want to see those numbers go down in real time, I really don’t want to become a slave to the scale, obsessively checking and rechecking the numbers after every bite, blow-out or bowel movement. Weight is always going to fluctuate for a number of reasons – I’ve still got to see what mischievous tricks my period is going to help play on the scale yet. That little gift from mother nature should be turning up in the next week I think…so if I’m being even more of a crotchety old harridan than usual, you know what to blame it on, lol.

Maybe if I have another slip-up or I decide to cheat or whatever…maybe then I’ll study the scale a little more closely for a couple of days, to try and keep track of the damage done; other than that though, I don’t see it being particularly healthy or helpful to me.

But for now…yeah, I’m happy. Who wouldn’t be? Little by little I’m starving this fat arse of mine into submission and so far I haven’t gone completely off the deep-end while doing so. Give it time though. Three months down the line from now I’ll probably be tearing my own hair out in the hopes that every strand removed will help make the scale move down a bit. But until then, I’m just going to keep on twirling my little happy dance while my decrepit joints let me, and keep on, keeping on.

Have a lovely week y’all!

Blue

Down With The Sickness

“Ooh…ah ah ah ah!”

I swear if I didn’t have bad luck I’d have no luck at all. Yeah, yeah, other people have it worse and all that, but how in the name of all that is holy, is my scale showing a GAIN of 3lb, when I haven’t eaten enough food all week to warrant such a fricking liberty.

“HOW VERY DARE YOU, SCALE!”

Urgh…the past few days have been crappy as all hell. There I was, getting all excited because Autumn was on the way, the temperature was dropping and everything was going swell with the low-carbing…and then out of nowhere a really miserable flare-up hit me like a metric fuck-tonne of shit (yes I’m swearing a lot today, I’m allowed to, I’m miserable, sue me) leaving me unable to get out of bed for a whole day, obliterated by a massive bastard-behind-the-eyes headache the next and cursed with barely serviceable mong-paw hands for 3 whole days.

Now I know y’all are expecting me to relay some tragic tale of woebegotten snack-scoffing, but that ain’t me mister. Almost the exact opposite in fact. I’ve never been someone who turned to food when depressed – I actually lose my appetite when I’m sad – and I’ve definitely been down in the dumps these past few days. Couldn’t walk anywhere, couldn’t shower, couldn’t cook, couldn’t use the computer properly, couldn’t do ANYTHING, except chug back the meds and hope for the best.

Foodwise, I went one whole day without eating anything. Not intentionally, I just slept for a good 15+ hours and when I woke up food was the furthest thing from my mind. The next day I was still thoroughly uninterested in eating, but my soluble pain-killers were ominously swirling around in my stomach, making me worry that I was going to throw them back up (along with my other meds) and not know how much I still had in my system, in order to top back up.

So I did a kind of a stupid thing. I got through that day by eating three protein bars. Not something that sounds altogether extreme by anyone else’s standards, but having since gone back to review the ingredients list (yasss…I know…I should’ve been more careful when I first read them…but I didn’t get to the size I am today by making wise decisions, m’kay?) I found that whilst they were showing as having 3g net carbs, they contained sugar. I mean, it’s not gonna be a lot if they only have 3g carbs in them, but I KNOW that crap was in there in large enough doses, because by the next day they’d pulled me right back out of ketosis. FRICK, FRICKETY, FRICK!

The day after that my appetite reared its ugly head again, but I’m theorising that once I was out of ketosis my body might have decided that I was being a stingy bitch and just thrown itself into starvation mode. Because on that day I had 3 pieces of ham, a piece of cheese and a cherry tomato for breakfast, 2 pieces of ham in the afternoon and some sausages (0.5g carb each) with broccoli for dinner…and then today I wake up to find that I’ve GAINED 3 BROTHERCLUCKING POUNDS??

There is no god.

I’m not due on my period, so I can’t blame it on that. I haven’t been consuming more salt, so it ain’t that. I’ve been drinking plenty of water and taking my supplements properly. I just haven’t been eating that much…and what I have eaten was full of the nasties. It HAS to be the protein bars. My meds are the same ones I’ve been taking every day for years now and my caffeine intake has been pretty low. I mean, everything’s been pretty low intake wise, but when you’re not feeling well, it’s really hard to think about food at all – never mind entirely sensibly. If I’d known I was going to gain 3lb I would’ve at least tried to do it in style. Y’know…cram in a few McDonald’s Quarterpounders, fries and thick shake or something! Actually, that’s a total lie. The smell of a cheeseburger might just have been the final straw that sent me running to the bathroom to throw up, if I’m being honest.

So today is Saturday. I wasn’t planning on weighing myself until Monday as usual, but I just knew that I’d gained when I got up earlier. Weird that I could sense that, but whatever. I got the scale out and whaddaya know, I was right! (Yay me!) I have no idea how this is going to be come Monday on my regular weigh-in day – I won’t be updating my stats until then – but it’s a pretty disappointing kick in the teeth, this early on in my low-carb endeavours. I’m not going to let it get me down too much though and I’m sticking to the plan as normal today, but I just know that I’m going to have a lot of these set-backs along the way, thanks to my health issues that just up and rear their ugly head, any old time they freaking feel like it. Those protein bars will have to be relegated to the back of the cupboard for the foreseeable future and I’m going to have to find myself some other ones that definitely DON’T have sugar in them. Because their are going to be days when I simply cannot face the thought of real food, but need to have something in my system because of my meds.

I also have this shake to use as a meal replacement going forward, on those days when I simply cannot face proper food, but need to put something in my stomach:

No ingredients in there to be worried about, sucralose as a sweetener and it includes a bunch of extra vitamins and MCT powder (which may or not be helpful, depending on who you believe). I had it today for lunch. “Breakfast” was a can of tuna, slice of cheese & cherry tomato at 1am; that tided me over until I had that shake for “lunch” at 10am. Dinner this evening was 2 grilled burger patties and some broccoli at 7pm. I don’t think my appetite has dropped back down yet, so it felt a lot easier to consume 3 meals today, than it did a few days ago. The shake definitely worked as a meal replacement. I only made a small one with 1 scoop of powder/35ml of water/1 tablespoon of coconut oil/teaspoon of caramel flavoured sugar-free syrup. The taste of the shake is pretty gross on its own – very sweet – but when I added a bit of caramel syrup and a good bit of salt, it became far more palatable.

That should be enough food for today. If I really feel the need for anything else to snack on I’ve got some slices of ham and plenty of cheese in the fridge. Just 2 more sleeps until the next official weigh-in. Will I still be registering a 3lb gain? Will I have lost any of it back? Will I still be clinging onto sanity by my fingernails or will I have completely lost the plot? Who knows. You’ll just have to stick around for the next episode of “My Big Fat Stupid Carb Addicted Body And The Befuddled Brain That Operates It.”

I love a catchy title.

Blue

The Mind-Numbing Stupidity Of A Near Anticlimactic Week 1. / Weigh-In Day

I never said I was a rocket scientist. I mean, I’ve only been at this a week. Mistakes are bound to happen, right? Bumps in the road are only to be expected. Yadda yadda yadda…

So…dear reader, just what was it that allowed me to screw-up so astronomically? Well, maths really. That and basic common sense. Was I misjudging the number of calories in a salad? Was I forgetting to add up the carbs in my beverages? Or was I failing to work out the net number of carbs in a protein bar?

No, it was none of those things. It was something even more basic and stupid than any of the above. I just…forgot how numbers worked. As in, remembering that stones are divided into 14 pounds which are divided into 16 ounces. Somehow, somewhere between trying to convert ‘stones + pounds’ into just pounds, I miscalculated what my actual weight has been for the past couple of weeks. So, when it came to updating my stats on the forum, it said I’d actually gained weight.

Now I know what some of you are possibly thinking:

“This dumb broad here just doesn’t wanna admit that she ate her own body-weight in cake last week and that made her gain.”

Which, you’re totally welcome to think. But I can’t quite imagine why I’d bother to go to all the trouble of creating this blog if I wasn’t planning to at least try to lay off the Krispy Kreme for a bit. As it is, I’ve been a good girl all week and my total weight loss was 6 pounds – which is more than I was hoping for after already dropping weight after just swapping out sugary drinks – and I’m thankfully able to know this because I still have the little note I made on my PC notepad saying that when I started last Monday I was 18 stone 11lbs: today I am 18 stone 5lbs. So a 6 pound loss. Yay me!

It’s a very American thing to discuss one’s weight in terms of total pounds, but here in the UK people either use the newer EU standard metric system of kilos (which I am NEVER going to get my head around using) or the old school combo of stones/pounds/ounces. I was attempting to convert my weight from stones & pounds (which is how my scale measures me) to just pounds to be able to track things on there, but alas I am a moron, who can’t even use a calculator to figure shit out. Literally, can’t even.

So, I’m not entirely sure what my initial starting weight was. I can’t remember what the scale said and I only have my weight from the beginning of last week – as I began induction – to work from. So I’ll alter the stats in the side-bar as well as in the ‘Fat Stats’ page, to show me starting from thereon in. And hopefully, as time plods along, I’ll manage to keep track of things a bit better…as well as in the right direction.

As for the loss? Well I’m happy with it. I’m halfway through the mandatory induction period for Atkins, but I’m probably going to stay at consuming no more than 20 carbs a day, for a good while anyway. I’m getting used to not being preoccupied with thoughts of what to eat – although the other half is probably a bit frustrated with my forgetting that he needs to eat too. Things got so bad the other day he had to resort to making himself a Pot Noodle! Yuk! I need to be a better woman to that long suffering man of mine.

Other than that, there’s not much more to report on. I’ve been acquiring various books on Keto, food, nutrition, supplements etc and I know I need to update the ‘Bookishness’ page on here so y’all can follow along with whatever I’m reading, but the last few days haven’t really left me in a very ‘task-oriented’ state of mind, lol. It was great to smoke a bit of weed while it lasted – the pain in my lower back basically disappeared for two days – but there’s no way I can spend my entire life in a haze like that. My brain is foggy enough as it is.

And the last thing I need is forget how numbers work. Again.

Blue

Slow Down There Kid…

What day is it?

It’s Saturday 5th September 2020. The temperature is definitely dropping and the nights are starting to draw in. Autumn is on the way and I can smell it coming in on the back of a breeze: the cool, crisp air cutting through summer’s claustrophobically fetid fug. And I for one can’t wait. I’ll finally be able to relax comfortably without feeling myself sticking to the furniture. I’m already able to sleep under the duvet again – sleeping with no covers over oneself is the weirdest, miserable experience. You need to sleep without the covers over you, because it’s so unbelievably hot & muggy that even the thinnest sheet becomes draped in moisture and clings to you like some insomniac form of Japanese water torture. But just lying there without any cover, you can feel how vulnerable and exposed you are to world. It’s a very sad feeling to go bed with no covers, even if the temperature demands it of you. So yes, Autumn, Fall, whatever y’all call it, it’s a-coming up here in the Northern Hemisphere and my inner ‘pumpkin-spice-infused-basic-bitch-white-chick’, couldn’t be happier.

I’m into Day 6. of induction and it’s been a weird-old couple of days (what I can remember of it/them anyway). On Thursday I was happily into that initial burst of energy you feel when you get into ketosis. Appetite was gone. Cravings were gone. Felt really positive. Felt like I was invincible even. So me and the other half were getting ready to go into town and I even found myself looking forward to the walk along the promenade. We gathered up all our bags, headed out and as soon as we started walking I felt amazing. The breeze was cool, the crows were all out in force on the beach, picking through the seaweed, everything was going to be great. [Spoiler: HA!]

Getting into town was fine; we were in the game store, the mini-mart, the chemist and even made it down to the bus station, with me still having a real spring in my step. We had about 10 minutes to wait for our bus, so we took the opportunity to sit down for a bit; tried to rearrange and consolidate our shopping bags a bit (give me fewer of them to accidentally leave behind).

And then it hit me. Like an actual physical force or weight from above me. I let out a loud, distorted “Owwwwwwwoooo!” and immediately began to regret all my overenthusiastic, faster pace and nonchalance upon leaving the house. It was all very well getting a genuine burst of physical energy as my body was burning its fat up, but that newfound energy didn’t suddenly make all my physical problems disappear. It just sort of overwhelmed my senses long enough for me to do myself more harm than good. Sitting there on that bench, pains started to shoot up and down my spine, managing to feel like both a hammer to my lumbar region and barbed-wire across my neck and shoulders, all at once. On top of that, the muscle in my left calf had gone into spasm, visually trembling underneath my trouser leg.

I can be such a moron sometimes: when I say I forget my age, middle name and house-number frequently, I’m not even being remotely hyperbolic. But you think I wouldn’t forget about a progressively worsening physiological problem that has been affecting me for the past 8 years, right? I mean, that’s the sort of thing that’s basically right there in the forefront of your mind, every single day, from the moment you wake up to the time you go to sleep. You don’t just let that shit slip.

Except maybe if you’re me and even the slightest extra pep in my step seems to be just enough to provoke some pretty poor decision making with regards to your body and what it’s capable of. I didn’t even remember to take my pain-killers before I left the house. THAT’S how sneakily powerful, the ketosis-energy burst thing is. It really did make me feel a bit immortal. I guess that’s another little thing to make a note of as I move through this new way of eating. A couple of days ago I was having a bit of existential introspection over the way ketosis had left me utterly apathetic towards all food. On Thursday I learned that I’m going to have all this extra energy on some days, so I’d need to try and find a better, less-crippling way of expending it. Because that brief trip into town absolutely obliterated me.

When we got home, I changed into my nightie, chugged back some pain killers and made myself a protein shake to have for dinner. Once I sat down, I was hit by a mixture of relief in the achy, overworked joints and a dull throbbing in the various parts of my body which play up during a fibro flare-up. What was I even thinking of? Storming off into town like I had a normal body…WTF?? I paid for it though. Hunched over like some Brothers’ Grimm hag-witch monstrosity (my hair helping to flesh out the likeness even more – thanks humidity!) I thought I might have actually done myself some real physical damage – although, that fear seems to plague me almost every time the fibro plays up. Something to do with the way the messages from my nerves to my brain’s pain receptors, not working correctly so I either don’t feel pain in the right place or I feel pain for no physiological reason. The arthritis is real enough, but the fibro is a cunning beast: mixing things up a little with a combination of both real manifestations of pain and subsequent sensations that originate in my brain for no good reason. Not that it matters what the cause is; both hurt like hell and it’s almost impossible to tell the difference.

But yeah. I can’t really recall much of the last day. I know I ate well. Even swallowed back a couple of tablespoons of coconut oil here and there. Tastes a bit weird and it does require the mastery of one’s gag-reflex, the first time you attempt to swallow it. But I got there in the end and it’s helping me to up my fat intake, because I’ve been consuming a lot of protein, salads and veggies but I really have to make the effort eat more fats if I’m going to remain in ketosis. At some point today I’m going to have to float on into the kitchen and put together something edible for me and the other half. Not looking forward to how hectic that’s gonna be. Trying to think of something that requires almost zero effort. Probably grill some burgers and Portabello mushrooms…do him some oven chips. Surely even I can’t balls that up, right?

Famous last words.

Anyway, there I was curled up on the sofa, willing my pain killers to kick in and do their job (not that they make the pain completely go away, but at least they dull it somewhat and make it more manageable) when the other half goes and scores some weed. The absolute legend. One of the best pain-relieving muscle relaxers out there. It’s simply the most effective thing for giving me relief and allowing my body to soften and relax. So we’ve been pretty wasted ever since then and I’m so relieved. I haven’t been this comfortable in ages. It has thrown up another curious sensation though as instead of having the munchies, stoned me in ketosis simply gets a craving for sweetness. Which is a bit of a relief really. Imagine having the proper munchies, with that growling stomach that demands the immediate consumption of a vast array of snacks, only to be doing low-carb at the time. That could’ve been a bit of a mare. Wanting to inhale cakes, biscuits, ice-cream and chocolate and trying to convince oneself that a piece of cheese and some ham are in any way going to cut it. Lol. Thankfully I was able to assuage my little sweet-craving with a caramel syrup coffee and I have a protein bar at the ready in case we go full ‘Code Blue’ and comestible reinforcements are required.

It’s all good.

Apart from that one little mission I’ll need to embark upon, in order to make dinner, I’m going to be spending the rest of the day on the sofa, in blissful oblivion, pain free and comfortable. We learned some lessons though over the past couple of days. One that I need to be more careful when hit by a ketosis energy burst. My brain might feel invincible in that moment, but my body isn’t (nor has ever been) the young, lithe, athlete my mind thinks it is in that moment. Gotta look out for that. Also we learned that the munchies aren’t the same when ketosis is in action. Nothing a sugar free syrup in the coffee can’t sort out. So yeah, lessons learned y’all.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Blue

Bestaved Indifference

“How will satiety and idleness be staved off when designer sex, drugs and violence no longer sell? ~ John Gray

Well I don’t have any answers with regards to idleness, but when it comes to ‘satiety’, I think I’ve found the answer. (And before anyone tries to say that ‘bestaved’ isn’t a real word, it is; albeit a somewhat antiquated one that might not turn up in your basic bitch internet dictionary, but its a real word nonetheless. And besides, you’re not my real dad and you can’t tell me what to do. This is my blog. I can use whatever words I want.)

Where was I? Oh yeah. The ‘satiety’ thing. Turns out if you want to stave off your inner starvo when trying to shift some weight, then going low-carb (20g max per day) is probably the way to do it. Bearing in mind however, that ‘satiety’ is the word I’m using here, rather than ‘satisfaction’. Because this weird absence of appetite is neither a ‘negative’ nor a ‘positive’ sensation. It’s…indifference. Sure, for many people the lack of a grumbling stomach, the disappearance of cravings and their ability to go for hours no longer completely preoccupied by thoughts of food, are probably all things that they would equate with being a ‘positive’ side-effect of a low-carb way of eating. But the sensation itself? It’s weird. Emptyish. Devoid of any real feelings that one can judge it by. It’s pure indifference.

Today is Day 4. I got up at about 9.00pm and the only thing I was interested in was coffee and water – no change there. But I knew I had to eat at some point (and I had the other half to feed too) so I tried to think about what I could throw together for dinner. The refrigerator and the freezer were both full of options, but what did I want? Want? I wanted nothing. It’s not that I was particularly opposed to consuming something, just that I literally didn’t care what it was. Chicken? Sure. Sausage? If you say so. Gammon? Whatever.

Like, who is this chick and what did you do with the real Blue?

Okay, so my complete hatred of cooking, prepping, handling food altogether hadn’t evaporated (I had to touch raw chicken breasts yesterday and the experience left me so traumatised I thought I might need therapy) just the part of my brain which normally gives me some sort of feedback any time I try to figure out what to have for dinner. This time last week, if you’d asked me what I wanted, I would have ‘ummed’ and ‘ahhed’ over what sounded the most ‘satisfying’ – and if by the end of the meal ‘satiety’ hadn’t been achieved, I’d have been off to rummage around in the cupboards to see what else might appeal to me. But not tonight, Joséphine. No ma’am.

This isn’t like when you’re sick and the mere thought of food makes you want to heave, or the only thing you can keep down in your poor delicate stomach is some chicken soup or hot sweet tea. No, that would be the ‘disgust’ response. Or ‘repulsion’. That’s a ‘negative’ sensation. This new state of being is neither ‘positive’ nor ‘negative’. It’s 100% indifference. And it’s really, really…blah.

In fact I literally just had to stop and think hard about what exactly I did end up having for dinner – despite having eaten only 30 minutes ago. It’d had that little impact upon me. (For those who care about such trivialities, I had a 2 egg omelette with brocolli & cheese, two pork sausages and 2 grilled Portobello mushrooms. Don’t ask me if I enjoyed it though, because I really didn’t pay any attention to how it tasted. I just ate what was on my plate, like a good little girl.)

So was I ‘satisfied’ with my meal? Well, no; not really. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because there had been no desire to consume beforehand and no enjoyment experienced during consumption. There had been no comestible itch that had needed scratching, hence the lack of any subsequent postprandial ‘satisfaction’. Eating has become a mechanical process that means nothing to me. In fact, if anything, it’s a bit of an inconvenience. Why do I have to deal with all that crap in the kitchen, when I’m not even hungry and I don’t even enjoy the results? Again, it’s not unpleasant to eat, I’m just totally indifferent to the whole process.

How long is this going to last? I’m assuming this means I’m now in ketosis, so this apathy for consumption could continue on until I come back out of it. Is that right? Is that a good thing? I have no idea. I don’t really feel anything about it. It’s a bit like if you’ve ever had to take a strong anti-depressant or anti-psychotic meds and they stops you from feeling much of anything, good or bad. Those medications keep you on a flatlined, even keel of psychological numbness. This ketosis thing, feels a bit like that, only it’s reserved entirely for the suppressing of appetite. (I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that serotonin is manufactured in the gut. Does ketosis play around with that in some way? Or am I just pontificating a bunch of nonsense at this point? Probably the latter.)

But you hear often of patients who intentionally stop taking their lithium or whatnot, because whilst it stabilises their mania and depression, they hate how it feels to…well…just not feel anymore. As a species we aren’t supposed to exist in a state of ‘bestaved indifference’. We are beings, constantly in flux, with our feelings and emotions tied in to our instincts and reactions to the environment around us. Australopithecus Afarensis wouldn’t have survived long enough to beget his Homo Habilius descendants, if he’d just floated around sub-Saharan Africa in a state of existential apathy, not caring if he ate or not; unconcerned with the basic desire to survive, thrive and reproduce. AA was no existentialist (at least not in the postmodern philosophical way we think of today) but neither was he a nihilist: there might not have been some inherent, larger essential meaning to life apparent to him, but there was some spark, some essence within him which propelled him forward, ever adapting to the world around him. Learning how to survive in an uncultivated, harsh environment, seeking out food & shelter and acting on the most base reproductive urges…that was what allowed for the successful continuation of his genes. Despite the danger and suffering that beset his brief existence.

I know I’m getting way off track with all this philosophical gubbins, but this ‘bestaved indifference’ within me has just gotten me thinking about what is normal; what is desirable. And what it means to be human. To be human is to suffer, which is probably why this sudden sense of apathy towards food feels strange. It goes against everything we’re taught about willpower, self-discipline and vigilance when embarking upon an attempt to lose weight. It’s not supposed to be like this, right? It’s supposed to be a struggle. Isn’t that where part of the sense of achievement comes from? From enduring that suffering and coming out the other side a better person? I know I’m only on Day 4, but the change is quite something. And if this is how it’s going to be for the foreseeable future, I’m not even sure I know how I feel about that.

It’s not good, it’s not bad…but it’s definitely different.

Blue

Time Moves A Little Differently Here

It’s coming upon 2am. The start of Wednesday. Tuesday was technically day 2 of induction and I’m not gonna lie…I slept through just about all of it, lol. Now, lest you be tempted to think

“Who does this lazy madam think she is, laying about all day?”

I must just emphasise the fact that (just like every other psychotic witch out there claims) I’m really not like the other girls! *insert joke about r/nicegirls here*

I don’t mean I’m interesting or beautiful or cool or edgy or clever or special. I mean I am all those things (duh) but that’s not what I’m referring to when I say I’m a bit different. I mean, neither my body nor my day-to-day existence are anywhere near normal. Yeah, yeah, I know that “normal is just a setting on a dishwasher”, but to labour the cliché a little more…if ya’ll are all dishwashers, well honey, I’m one of those other weird appliances you see advertised on cable TV after midnight, and upon purchasing relegate to a dark space under the sink, never to be retrieved again. Guys, I’m the brother-clucking, Veggetti Spiralizer of the blogging world!

Okay, okay…enough with the shtick. I know that I’m by no means the only person with health complaints – and I’m certainly nowhere near as bad off as some poor folks out there, but I do have some rather annoying, painful, ailments that mean sometimes I just gotta take my meds, head back to bed and take the ‘L’ for the day. Which is exactly how Tuesday played out for me. I’m used to just randomly waking up and finding myself barely able to move, so yesterday wasn’t exactly a big deal, but it did get me wondering if this particular flare-up had perhaps been triggered by my body trying to move into ketosis.

“Ketosis? Already? How is that even POSSIBLE?”

Now I’ve done Atkins briefly before and I remember those three days of gradually more irksome tiredness, tetchiness and all-out desperation to alleviate the headaches with anything carbohydrate based. And I also remember that on day four I woke up with absolutely zero appetite. I had to force myself to eat. Which is exactly how I felt upon getting up earlier at 11pm. (See what I mean about not being normal? I sleep for loooooong periods of time, wake up at random hours and pretty much just let my pain & mobility levels dictate what I’ll be able to do during those waking hours.)

I originally woke up at about 3pm and just shuffled about between the bathroom and living room and kitchen; taking meds, using my nasal spray gulping back loads of water – man was I thirsty – and realising that I wasn’t going to be running any marathons today, slunk back into the bedroom to sleep another 7 hours. (I dreamed I was stuck at a family Christmas get-together and couldn’t get out to buy some low-carb protein bars, funnily enough.)

And now? Well it’s 2am on a very early Wednesday morning. For me, the beginning of day 3; but I haven’t eaten for about 20 hours, I still have absolutely no appetite and I’m going to have to force myself to eat something or I worry that my body is going to go into starvation mode. Or will it? Because I know that technically this is me just moving into day 3, but because of my ability to give Sleeping Beauty a run for her money, when I first started induction upon rising at 00.00 on Monday, I’d already gone about 16 hours since my last meal. So I’m more like 64 hours into induction by now. Aren’t I? I don’t know if that’s exactly how it’s supposed to work, but then like I said earlier: I’m not like the other girls!

“Could my body really be moving into ketosis already?”

I’m not sure. So I’ve eaten something to see what happens. Normally, once I start eating, THAT’S when my insatiable appetite usually kicks in. Monday was insane. No matter how many times I ate in that 24 hour period, my body kept on telling me it needed more. I’m used to not being able to know when I’m truly satisfied and eating to the point of bloated discomfort, but this was different. My carb-starved brain was doing everything it could to try and force me to feed it something sugary. But today? There’s none of that. I’ve eaten a can of tuna, a 20g piece of cheese and a cherry tomato. It felt weird to be eating when I didn’t feel like I wanted anything and when I stopped eating…nothing. No ravenous fire in my belly demanding more. No junkie-esque cravings filling my every waking moment with thoughts of chocolate, cake and freshly baked bread. Nothing.

Okay. So maybe this IS it. Maybe I really have started to burn my own body fat for fuel. Although, I can’t imagine I burn that much off, languishing in my bed the whole day. I’ll take it though. Headaches gone, cravings gone, appetite gone. But man do I ever have a monster thirst for water going on! I’m sure I read on the forum that some people developed a hitherto unknown raging thirst as they were in induction, so I’ll just keep on chugging. Keep on keeping on.

Here’s hoping my inner carbohydrate addict doesn’t rear its ugly head again any time soon.

Blue