When I turned 44 in June (so not that long has passed) I was getting puffed out going upstairs (and I don't mean running). I was tired ALL the time - if I had a day without a good long nap (or more than one) I was ... well, I don't know because there wasn't a day without a nap. So naturally, when I started going to the gym it was the lightest weights, shortest and slowest distances and rightly so. To my amazement I've managed to increase things and speed up beyond my wildest expectations. I started out struggling to walk for ten minutes non-stop - today I ran for 8 out of my 10 minutes on the running machine. It is smallfry to many people but massively exciting to me. The result has been the weightloss - which I have to say I wouldn't have given two hoots about if I hadn't have been told to lose it health-wise. I did my fair share of crash diets and yo-yo-ing 25 years ago! I'm not particularly vain - no more than anyone else I know, and I am lucky enough to have a partner who is happy with whatever size or shape I am so long as I'm content and not stressing about it. I've been overweight for a good few years now and as many women of my age come to do, I'd kind of learned to appreciate all its curves for the battle-scars, love-handles etc that they were. Life is too short to stress about a few lumps and bumps - but if those lumps and bumps are making it shorter then I guess you have to think again. I digress..
So, weightloss notwithstanding, there's the whole energy/mood thing that is way more exciting. I am sleeping like a log - amazing, clear, good dreams (although some are very chicken based - which is totally due to my straightforward love of my hens, nothing pervy!). When I wake up, not only am I in a great mood I stay in a good mood. I have started the VERY slow process of reducing the dose of the anti-depressants that was increased last winter after the worst bout of depression in my life so far - and there have been a few. I have taken them on and off (mainly on) since about 1996 and they've done a splendid job and seen me through some pretty horrible times so I have no idea if I will ever manage without them (and I don't feel that it would be essential to - they do a good job, why stress?) but reducing the dose is something even 6 months ago would have seemed impossible. I will take it slowly - lowering the dose too quickly can cause the most appalling backlash and I just don't want to rock my boat (or Frankie's) right now...
When my dissertation is finished (nope - not done yet - still going! Tick-tock...) I will blog more about diet and what I have learned/read/discovered. There's a LOT of rubbish out there and a lot of sense. Thank goodness I have a Pip to guide me on that side of things (she told me stuff two years ago that my doctor is only just beginning to recommend now... genius!). I think it will be useful for some - well, I hope so.
So, that's my today blog. Energy levels, mood and stamina up. Blood sugar down (5.3 on waking this morning which ROCKS!)
Hoping everyone who deserves to has a marvellous day and those who don't learn something.
S xx
Friday 19 August 2011
Friday 12 August 2011
Progress Report
A quick blog to update my progress.
I am still going to the gym - most days actually although my target was five per week - and I'm genuinely beginning to enjoy it. I always thought that idea of an endorphin hit after exercise was just sporty people being, well, sporty but it seems I was wrong! I am loving how I feel after I've really worked hard. So that's good. Also, if you time a trip to the gym right you are forced to watch Jeremy Kyle with subtitles and that's hilarous... sick but hilarious. Afternoon sessions mean a full dose of Come Dine With Me (also with subtitles). The reason I don't take earphones and listen is twofold. Firstly, my lack of coordination is likely to mean if I multitask by listening with something that needs plugging in to both a machine and me, anything could happen. Second, the people who actually write subtitles are appalling and make some superbly funny mistakes. Today for example, whilst rowing (2,000 meters in under eleven minutes - I thank you) the news was on and the journalist was talking to a group of be-hooded young men about their recent involvement during the London riots. The caption underneath read:
"Yeah, we was like at Tottenham, Bromley and cat food"
worth every penny of membership fee I think you'll agree.
Anyway - to details of my progress... drum roll... (me tapping the keyboard will have to do...)
One or two people have asked me what I'm doing diet-wise and whilst I must point out I'm not qualified to recommend diets to anyone and if you plan to do a diet it is your own and your doctor's thing, I am finding Patrick Holford's 'Low GL Diet' very good. It is basically sensible eating with portion control and very carefully managed carbohydrates (my weakness and it would seem, my poison). The only part I haven't mastered yet is the giving up of the tea. I did try cold turkey but a pick-axe-like headache and a lack of vision made me decide to come back to that once things elsewhere are more sorted! I think for now the vice of tea is a fair one. Otherwise it is ok - some nice recipes and two snacks a day on top of meals. The Patrick Holford recipe for Chicken with Cherry Tomatoes is particularly yummy - no, actually, really, really yummy.
Well, that's about it. I'm delighted I've managed a good start but I'm not complacent. I've already upped my game at the gym by moving onto a more intense 'workout'. Sometimes I even get my legs and arms going at the same time on the crosstrainer but it does depend on who is next to me. I find it very difficult not to fall off when on one side there's a great, fat, sweaty bloke going really slowly and on the other an abnormally muscled child-woman going at 300 revs a second. It throws my rhythm all out and things get a bit fallopity in the arms and legs department!
Right, nose back to the grindstone - dissertation time. I have a hot date with Mr. Dickens and he doesn't like to be kept waiting...
I am still going to the gym - most days actually although my target was five per week - and I'm genuinely beginning to enjoy it. I always thought that idea of an endorphin hit after exercise was just sporty people being, well, sporty but it seems I was wrong! I am loving how I feel after I've really worked hard. So that's good. Also, if you time a trip to the gym right you are forced to watch Jeremy Kyle with subtitles and that's hilarous... sick but hilarious. Afternoon sessions mean a full dose of Come Dine With Me (also with subtitles). The reason I don't take earphones and listen is twofold. Firstly, my lack of coordination is likely to mean if I multitask by listening with something that needs plugging in to both a machine and me, anything could happen. Second, the people who actually write subtitles are appalling and make some superbly funny mistakes. Today for example, whilst rowing (2,000 meters in under eleven minutes - I thank you) the news was on and the journalist was talking to a group of be-hooded young men about their recent involvement during the London riots. The caption underneath read:
"Yeah, we was like at Tottenham, Bromley and cat food"
worth every penny of membership fee I think you'll agree.
Anyway - to details of my progress... drum roll... (me tapping the keyboard will have to do...)
- I have lost just over a stone in weight so far (this means I now weigh 72 kgs in new money so have 99 to go - which sounds a lot but I'm thinking slow and steady wins the race etc - and the race is only with the Grim Reaper so hey ho!)
- My fat belt has been put on one side to go on the bonfire I plan to have with my old clothes.
- My old thin belt has been tightened to the third notch.
- My bra size has reduced to 36D (which is still plenty thanks - a later blog on the purchasing of sports bras will follow when I have some more time)
- My knickers are now size 12 as are the jeans Frankie bought for me yesterday.
- SIZE 12!!! To be brutally honest, although I can do them up and could wear them all day, it is going to be another week before I can say I'm totally comfortable which is why they are hanging up in the sitting room to be admired - Label 'size' to the front.
- My blood sugars are good although I need to pick up a prescription of lancets in order to be able to test now so it will be a few days before I can check it properly. Last reading was 5.3 - which is pretty ok.
- The vile 'lavatory based' side-effects of Metformin (diabetes medication) have worn off and their appetite suppressing qualities seem to have kicked in.
- My BMI has dropped to a point or two and is just abot the 'normal' range (it was far closer to 'obese' before) but I am expecting to hit normal any day now.
- I'm crossing my fingers that my next cholesterol test will show results even though I am not taking the statins prescribed for me as I am convinced they give you brain damage (no - I have no logical reason - I just get totally ditsy when I do take them and they make my legs ache). If weight loss, healthy eating and exercise doesn't have a massive impact, then I will take the doctor's advice and swallow them. I just have to try for myself first - that's my call, not something I am suggesting anyone else does.
One or two people have asked me what I'm doing diet-wise and whilst I must point out I'm not qualified to recommend diets to anyone and if you plan to do a diet it is your own and your doctor's thing, I am finding Patrick Holford's 'Low GL Diet' very good. It is basically sensible eating with portion control and very carefully managed carbohydrates (my weakness and it would seem, my poison). The only part I haven't mastered yet is the giving up of the tea. I did try cold turkey but a pick-axe-like headache and a lack of vision made me decide to come back to that once things elsewhere are more sorted! I think for now the vice of tea is a fair one. Otherwise it is ok - some nice recipes and two snacks a day on top of meals. The Patrick Holford recipe for Chicken with Cherry Tomatoes is particularly yummy - no, actually, really, really yummy.
Well, that's about it. I'm delighted I've managed a good start but I'm not complacent. I've already upped my game at the gym by moving onto a more intense 'workout'. Sometimes I even get my legs and arms going at the same time on the crosstrainer but it does depend on who is next to me. I find it very difficult not to fall off when on one side there's a great, fat, sweaty bloke going really slowly and on the other an abnormally muscled child-woman going at 300 revs a second. It throws my rhythm all out and things get a bit fallopity in the arms and legs department!
Right, nose back to the grindstone - dissertation time. I have a hot date with Mr. Dickens and he doesn't like to be kept waiting...
Saturday 6 August 2011
Foodstuff
Foodstuff and the failure of super-powers
A breakfast of yogurt (calcium and vitamins), oats (filly-uppy and cholesterol lowering + fibre), walnuts (good for the blood sugar and cholesterol levels), almonds (ditto) and apple (quercetin - I think that's the right spelling, if not, apologies - also for blood sugar and general filly-uppy-healthy stuff)... topped with a sprinkling of... GARAM MASALA. Yup. Should have been cinnamon (helps increase the body's ability to use insulin effectively). I know Garam Masala has a little cinnamon in it, and it is fab on a curry but for brekkie... on my oats and yogurt... BLEURGGGHHHH!!!
Please note, and Frankie can confirm this, one of my usual super-powers is to be able to open the spice drawer and go straight to the one thing I want/need accurately without having to rummage - which is impressive given the chaos in there - this morning my powers failed me and I have learned that sometimes reading the label like ordinary folk is a good idea.
A breakfast of yogurt (calcium and vitamins), oats (filly-uppy and cholesterol lowering + fibre), walnuts (good for the blood sugar and cholesterol levels), almonds (ditto) and apple (quercetin - I think that's the right spelling, if not, apologies - also for blood sugar and general filly-uppy-healthy stuff)... topped with a sprinkling of... GARAM MASALA. Yup. Should have been cinnamon (helps increase the body's ability to use insulin effectively). I know Garam Masala has a little cinnamon in it, and it is fab on a curry but for brekkie... on my oats and yogurt... BLEURGGGHHHH!!!
Please note, and Frankie can confirm this, one of my usual super-powers is to be able to open the spice drawer and go straight to the one thing I want/need accurately without having to rummage - which is impressive given the chaos in there - this morning my powers failed me and I have learned that sometimes reading the label like ordinary folk is a good idea.
Just peeping out from under the organic (ooh, get me!) stock cubes in the green pack there's a tub with a white lid. This is a mystery item. Label: lost... Use by date: uncertain... Contents: unknown. Yet still I don't throw it away. Perhaps I should sprinkle it on my breakfast tomorrow and see what shakes down?
Thursday 4 August 2011
A brief hello
This is just a very quick post to update on my health progress - I'm going to be eyebrow deep in dissertation stuff for the next couple of weeks so may only dip in a bit. Once that beast is out of the way - well, the PhD starts (at least, it is supposed to - I'm wondering if I want to put myself through it right now!).
Anyway, latest news is my blood sugar has been regularly hitting 5s which in 'Diabetes World' isn't bad AT ALL compared to the double figures I was hitting. When I wake it is low 6s which is also an impressive drop. Now I just have to maintain that. Which is the hard part.
Weight-wise, I'm doing OK so far I have lost 10 lbs 7 oz - I have been making it to the gym at least 5 times in a week and sometimes Yoga too. I've had a no Yoga week this week due to pulling my back (not doing anything bendy or gym-tastic - I bent over to get a drink of water from a water fountain and it twinged just a bit so I've been resting it a little). The whole what to eat thing is a whole other blog and I'm going to be delving further into the ridiculous amount of conflicting, mad and downright dangerous suggestions out there for diabetic blood sugar/weight control. Low carb, high carb, high protein, low fat, high fat - you name it, someone's selling a book about it. And claiming that their 'diet' will cure diabetes... er.. yeah - I'll come back to you on that one.
My weight loss so far means I am on the verge of moving from a BMI in the 'overweight' realm to the land of 'normal'. To have a major impact on my diabetic control, I have to head deep into normal before I can relax a little so there's a long journey ahead. ONWARDS! Through the Valley of the Diets with its protein pits and carb caverns, into the great big beyond...
In other news, I saw a real dragonfly yesterday and my sunflowers are about to bloom. Which is good because wifey is away and I need to fill up the gap with something smiley.
Probably a day off gym tomorrow as the parents, sister, nephew and nieces are coming for the day - and possibly my youngest boy (20) and his girl too. This means noise, cooking, eating and more noise. It'll be fun. Staying focused on the sensible will be a bit of a challenge but I'm ready. Except for the hoovering....
Anyway, latest news is my blood sugar has been regularly hitting 5s which in 'Diabetes World' isn't bad AT ALL compared to the double figures I was hitting. When I wake it is low 6s which is also an impressive drop. Now I just have to maintain that. Which is the hard part.
Weight-wise, I'm doing OK so far I have lost 10 lbs 7 oz - I have been making it to the gym at least 5 times in a week and sometimes Yoga too. I've had a no Yoga week this week due to pulling my back (not doing anything bendy or gym-tastic - I bent over to get a drink of water from a water fountain and it twinged just a bit so I've been resting it a little). The whole what to eat thing is a whole other blog and I'm going to be delving further into the ridiculous amount of conflicting, mad and downright dangerous suggestions out there for diabetic blood sugar/weight control. Low carb, high carb, high protein, low fat, high fat - you name it, someone's selling a book about it. And claiming that their 'diet' will cure diabetes... er.. yeah - I'll come back to you on that one.
My weight loss so far means I am on the verge of moving from a BMI in the 'overweight' realm to the land of 'normal'. To have a major impact on my diabetic control, I have to head deep into normal before I can relax a little so there's a long journey ahead. ONWARDS! Through the Valley of the Diets with its protein pits and carb caverns, into the great big beyond...
In other news, I saw a real dragonfly yesterday and my sunflowers are about to bloom. Which is good because wifey is away and I need to fill up the gap with something smiley.
Probably a day off gym tomorrow as the parents, sister, nephew and nieces are coming for the day - and possibly my youngest boy (20) and his girl too. This means noise, cooking, eating and more noise. It'll be fun. Staying focused on the sensible will be a bit of a challenge but I'm ready. Except for the hoovering....
Tuesday 2 August 2011
Goodbye my old... friend?
When I quit smoking for the zillionth time it left a scar. One of those livid ones that will always be a little tender to the touch. I know for certain that should ever the medical profession suddenly announce it was all a mistake and they aren't shockingly bad for you, I'd be the first in the queue clutching my tenner and sparking up. This is not, nor is it likely to be the case so I have to face the fact that my dear old pals - they saw me through some tough old times I can tell you - are no longer a part of my life. I will never forget them. I think of them wistfully in moments of stress or anxiety - these are common moments for me as adrenaline, cortisol, and anything else the body usually produces as a fight or flight thing are a major part of my natural state - something I daily try to overcome and hope the Yoga will continue to help with. Or when I'm working on something 'academic' and having to concentrate properly like a grown-up; with certain people; in certain places; after a good meal; first thing in the morning... these times, I still get a flash of yearning for a Camel Light or even a Silk Cut (Silver would do...).
Here's the thing, I thought it would be exactly the same grieving process with my dear old pal 'Vino'. I thought not downing a gallon (or even a galleon) of wine at a party would mean I sat alone in a quiet corner pretending to sort out the fascinating contents of my handbag. But no! Not only have I not yet missed having any booze at all for some weeks now, I'm actually preferring it. My whole adult life (well, since about 13 I guess) has been punctuated by hangovers, groggy days and dehydrated nights with a tongue swollen to 8 times its usual size yet simultaneously wrung out like a giant sun-dried tomato (ew! that's those off the lunch menu then). I've lost whole evenings to the demon drink - and days too. I've danced on tables, fallen down stairs and philosophised about the most random things in that way only a drunk person can do - earnestly and repetitively. I have thought the world my best friend and sobbed uncontrollably whilst babbling total nonsense to complete strangers. Once I was even told to quieten down and go home by a (frankly, rather stout) policewoman.
I'm not, by the way, a raging alcoholic, but I've always loved a drinkie as many people do and since I passed 40, I'd begun to notice it's taken less to hit me hard and increasingly longer to recover. Oh, most of the time its been great of course: shared meals and lazy afternoons with friends and hysterical evenings with family, Birthdays and Christmases etc., laughing, dancing, singing (oh and I am AWFUL so it is best left off for that reason alone) and I'd not change a single thing. It is not worth regretting stuff - life is WAY too short but despite the many good times, most of the bad times I've had were never helped by drinking (and frequently made worse). My choice was made for me with this diabetes thing and the medication I have to take so I thought I'd kick up and resist. I believe some people do get away with one or two 'now-and-again' on Metformin but somehow it just felt like a good time to call my love-hate relationship with alcohol off. Quit while we are both still in with a chance of finding love elsewhere (I'm speed-dating rebound drinks at the moment. Diet Coke was a one-night-stand and a mistake - makes me burp too much to be sociable. The fruit juices are too sweet and soda water looks like I'm trying to be cheap; so far, slimline tonic is looking like she might get a second date...)
But, but, but, I cannot believe just how liberating it is to be free of alcohol. Not only am I losing weight (not just giving up the grog is doing that, I know, but it is making a difference) I'm sleeping won-der-full-yyy and dreaming things I can remember and want to! I have slept right through the night every night, for a few weeks now and it's great. That alone would make it worthwhile.
I had two 'events' last week that would usually have involved a lot of boozing, carousing even! And I'll be honest, I wasn't sure how it would be for me (that's a bit sad isn't it?!). The first was a dinner with my wifey (yes, wifey - tis no great big deal these days I hear) and the two Es - the funniest pair of lively, young buddies who make each other laugh and it isjust plain fun to be around them. The dinner was to be followed by a game of 'Cranium' (we live right on 'the edge' in Surrey - sometimes we even play board games... outside). I would usually drink throughout the evening. Probably a couple whilst cooking, a couple whilst eating and a couple more to follow. I'd wake the next day, groggy but functioning but very much aware of being tired, a bit grumpy (a bit grumpier than usual) and just a bit 'off'. I'd also probably doze off at some point or be wanting to during the evening. Instead, I had a brilliant time, slept like a log and woke up raring to go the next day. A lovely, relaxed night - aah, my team lost the game but you can't have it all. A board game that involves 'play-doh' and 'eyes-shut drawing' is bound to be a challenge.
The second event was a party for a gay friend - this I mention purely for the reason that only when you know this (if you also know gay men) can you get a full picture of what the evening would, inevitably, be like. Middle-aged gay men, cake and champers = a definite, full-on, camp carousing opportunity: heavy on the fabulously scented grooming products and no holds barred on the designer footwear daahling. This was no exception. Birthday boy was already flying when we arrived and so was his Mr.Right. Naturally, as you would expect (no point in avoiding stereotypes when they are so very right) the food was delicate, decorative, canape-ish and "Oh, had it delivered in, love, by a little woman just locally, pricey, but so worth it!". The cake was two cakes (well, of course), one being an enormous pavlova, the other a large, gooey, creamy, spongey affair that called to me like a lacivious old hooker from the minute I arrived. I resisted obvious charms but by god it was tough. Anyway, you get the picture, it was a lovely do. And there was champagne. CHAMPAGNE! No-one turns that down. Do they? Well, yes indeedy: I do! I enjoyed my slimline tonic water rather more than I thought I would (it was a warm night and I was actually glad not be be dehydrating) and I had lovely chats with lovely people and I can still remember their names and what we said - which was, on my part, coherent. Imagine! How cool? Well, to most people, probably not very - but to me it feels like something of an achievement.
Here's the thing, I thought it would be exactly the same grieving process with my dear old pal 'Vino'. I thought not downing a gallon (or even a galleon) of wine at a party would mean I sat alone in a quiet corner pretending to sort out the fascinating contents of my handbag. But no! Not only have I not yet missed having any booze at all for some weeks now, I'm actually preferring it. My whole adult life (well, since about 13 I guess) has been punctuated by hangovers, groggy days and dehydrated nights with a tongue swollen to 8 times its usual size yet simultaneously wrung out like a giant sun-dried tomato (ew! that's those off the lunch menu then). I've lost whole evenings to the demon drink - and days too. I've danced on tables, fallen down stairs and philosophised about the most random things in that way only a drunk person can do - earnestly and repetitively. I have thought the world my best friend and sobbed uncontrollably whilst babbling total nonsense to complete strangers. Once I was even told to quieten down and go home by a (frankly, rather stout) policewoman.
I'm not, by the way, a raging alcoholic, but I've always loved a drinkie as many people do and since I passed 40, I'd begun to notice it's taken less to hit me hard and increasingly longer to recover. Oh, most of the time its been great of course: shared meals and lazy afternoons with friends and hysterical evenings with family, Birthdays and Christmases etc., laughing, dancing, singing (oh and I am AWFUL so it is best left off for that reason alone) and I'd not change a single thing. It is not worth regretting stuff - life is WAY too short but despite the many good times, most of the bad times I've had were never helped by drinking (and frequently made worse). My choice was made for me with this diabetes thing and the medication I have to take so I thought I'd kick up and resist. I believe some people do get away with one or two 'now-and-again' on Metformin but somehow it just felt like a good time to call my love-hate relationship with alcohol off. Quit while we are both still in with a chance of finding love elsewhere (I'm speed-dating rebound drinks at the moment. Diet Coke was a one-night-stand and a mistake - makes me burp too much to be sociable. The fruit juices are too sweet and soda water looks like I'm trying to be cheap; so far, slimline tonic is looking like she might get a second date...)
But, but, but, I cannot believe just how liberating it is to be free of alcohol. Not only am I losing weight (not just giving up the grog is doing that, I know, but it is making a difference) I'm sleeping won-der-full-yyy and dreaming things I can remember and want to! I have slept right through the night every night, for a few weeks now and it's great. That alone would make it worthwhile.
I had two 'events' last week that would usually have involved a lot of boozing, carousing even! And I'll be honest, I wasn't sure how it would be for me (that's a bit sad isn't it?!). The first was a dinner with my wifey (yes, wifey - tis no great big deal these days I hear) and the two Es - the funniest pair of lively, young buddies who make each other laugh and it isjust plain fun to be around them. The dinner was to be followed by a game of 'Cranium' (we live right on 'the edge' in Surrey - sometimes we even play board games... outside). I would usually drink throughout the evening. Probably a couple whilst cooking, a couple whilst eating and a couple more to follow. I'd wake the next day, groggy but functioning but very much aware of being tired, a bit grumpy (a bit grumpier than usual) and just a bit 'off'. I'd also probably doze off at some point or be wanting to during the evening. Instead, I had a brilliant time, slept like a log and woke up raring to go the next day. A lovely, relaxed night - aah, my team lost the game but you can't have it all. A board game that involves 'play-doh' and 'eyes-shut drawing' is bound to be a challenge.
The second event was a party for a gay friend - this I mention purely for the reason that only when you know this (if you also know gay men) can you get a full picture of what the evening would, inevitably, be like. Middle-aged gay men, cake and champers = a definite, full-on, camp carousing opportunity: heavy on the fabulously scented grooming products and no holds barred on the designer footwear daahling. This was no exception. Birthday boy was already flying when we arrived and so was his Mr.Right. Naturally, as you would expect (no point in avoiding stereotypes when they are so very right) the food was delicate, decorative, canape-ish and "Oh, had it delivered in, love, by a little woman just locally, pricey, but so worth it!". The cake was two cakes (well, of course), one being an enormous pavlova, the other a large, gooey, creamy, spongey affair that called to me like a lacivious old hooker from the minute I arrived. I resisted obvious charms but by god it was tough. Anyway, you get the picture, it was a lovely do. And there was champagne. CHAMPAGNE! No-one turns that down. Do they? Well, yes indeedy: I do! I enjoyed my slimline tonic water rather more than I thought I would (it was a warm night and I was actually glad not be be dehydrating) and I had lovely chats with lovely people and I can still remember their names and what we said - which was, on my part, coherent. Imagine! How cool? Well, to most people, probably not very - but to me it feels like something of an achievement.
Thursday 28 July 2011
Welcome to Diabetes World...
Today, I got a new blood glucose 'monitoring system'. It comes with an impressive looking pouch, test strips in a test 'drum', a 'proven' least painful soft-clix plus finger pricker, lancets, batteries and a 'welcome pack'.
Now I don't know about any other diabetics out there but 'welcome' seems a bit of a laugh. It is not a cozy club I've joined here, it's a pain in the tushy. It is boring more than anything. If you are diagnosed and intend to manage your diabetes properly, most of the time you will be thinking about food - even if you don't want to, aren't hungry, are ill and can't face food - you have to think about it. What you have had, what you will have, what you can't have, what you should have. And, what you have to do to balance up any screw-ups you've made. In addition to which, you are always bearing in mind that even a change in the weather, a sniffle or a bit of a stressful day can throw everything up in the air and make it rise or drop wildly - totally without logic. It is not something I'd want to 'welcome' anyone to. Oh and don't start me on the potential complications - it is toooo depressing.
Moan over. Don't misunderstand me, I'm really not complaining about having it - that's just one of those things. I am complaining about misconceptions about what it is really like. I know this is one area I can't make right - unless you have it, you can't understand it. But it is in my nature to try to explain stuff (once a teacher...). The fact is, without the medications and all their attendant complications and side effects things would go wrong very quickly. So having those things is great, but hard work and by no means straighforward. It is not, certainly for the 'younger' diabetic about taking a pill or jabbing in a bit of insulin and away you go. But that is for the most part what most people think and it is frustrating. It is a degenerative condition with a pretty shitty outcome unless you are diligent (and lucky) and the only way to deal with it is to work hard. Let's be honest, that's not always going to be possible or desirable, you gotta live for heaven's sake. But what if I don't work hard most of the time? Definitely a shitty outcome. At least by trying I'll not be able to blame myself. I don't know who else I would blame but I'd have jolly good try - a passer by would do! In all seriousness, I've learned the hard way that at diagnosis, if you are given the chance to manage the condition with diet alone, the sensible person does just that. The Selenas of this world do three weeks of holiness, then decide there's been a mistake and go back to shovelling the wrong things down the cake-hole. This ends in medication. With some startlingly scatalogical side-effects. THAT ain't welcome either!
So, new glucose monitor, to go with my new 'lose weight, eat right' attitude. So far, so good. I'm 104 pages into the 200+ page instruction booklet, I have worked out what goes where, which bits need reading and how to extract blood (Yes, of course it bloody hurts!). I've even managed to do a test and put everything back in the pouch in the right order (there IS a right way and a wrong way, it says so in the instruction booklet - and there was an extra sheet with a diagram to prove it).
Taking control of my own body, health, weight etc is not something I'm naturally inclined to do. It's going to be a major and lifelong battle but I do have an aunt whose experience of the same thing does at least give me support and inspiration. I'm constantly aware that I have to try at this, and that if I were a naturally sporty, healthy type, I'd maybe have held this off a lot longer than my early 40s. So I either get on with it now or shorten my life by a very long way. My period of denial is over and my taking control has begun. I'm doing my best to take a positive approach as there are so many worse things that could happen. Like I could carry on ignoring it and hit that shitty outcome in no time at all.
The silver lining to this new kit is not just the speed, accuracy and attractive, handy rubber effect 'pochette' - it also boasts a GLOW IN THE DARK DISPLAY! Now, that is worth the effort!
Now I don't know about any other diabetics out there but 'welcome' seems a bit of a laugh. It is not a cozy club I've joined here, it's a pain in the tushy. It is boring more than anything. If you are diagnosed and intend to manage your diabetes properly, most of the time you will be thinking about food - even if you don't want to, aren't hungry, are ill and can't face food - you have to think about it. What you have had, what you will have, what you can't have, what you should have. And, what you have to do to balance up any screw-ups you've made. In addition to which, you are always bearing in mind that even a change in the weather, a sniffle or a bit of a stressful day can throw everything up in the air and make it rise or drop wildly - totally without logic. It is not something I'd want to 'welcome' anyone to. Oh and don't start me on the potential complications - it is toooo depressing.
Moan over. Don't misunderstand me, I'm really not complaining about having it - that's just one of those things. I am complaining about misconceptions about what it is really like. I know this is one area I can't make right - unless you have it, you can't understand it. But it is in my nature to try to explain stuff (once a teacher...). The fact is, without the medications and all their attendant complications and side effects things would go wrong very quickly. So having those things is great, but hard work and by no means straighforward. It is not, certainly for the 'younger' diabetic about taking a pill or jabbing in a bit of insulin and away you go. But that is for the most part what most people think and it is frustrating. It is a degenerative condition with a pretty shitty outcome unless you are diligent (and lucky) and the only way to deal with it is to work hard. Let's be honest, that's not always going to be possible or desirable, you gotta live for heaven's sake. But what if I don't work hard most of the time? Definitely a shitty outcome. At least by trying I'll not be able to blame myself. I don't know who else I would blame but I'd have jolly good try - a passer by would do! In all seriousness, I've learned the hard way that at diagnosis, if you are given the chance to manage the condition with diet alone, the sensible person does just that. The Selenas of this world do three weeks of holiness, then decide there's been a mistake and go back to shovelling the wrong things down the cake-hole. This ends in medication. With some startlingly scatalogical side-effects. THAT ain't welcome either!
So, new glucose monitor, to go with my new 'lose weight, eat right' attitude. So far, so good. I'm 104 pages into the 200+ page instruction booklet, I have worked out what goes where, which bits need reading and how to extract blood (Yes, of course it bloody hurts!). I've even managed to do a test and put everything back in the pouch in the right order (there IS a right way and a wrong way, it says so in the instruction booklet - and there was an extra sheet with a diagram to prove it).
Taking control of my own body, health, weight etc is not something I'm naturally inclined to do. It's going to be a major and lifelong battle but I do have an aunt whose experience of the same thing does at least give me support and inspiration. I'm constantly aware that I have to try at this, and that if I were a naturally sporty, healthy type, I'd maybe have held this off a lot longer than my early 40s. So I either get on with it now or shorten my life by a very long way. My period of denial is over and my taking control has begun. I'm doing my best to take a positive approach as there are so many worse things that could happen. Like I could carry on ignoring it and hit that shitty outcome in no time at all.
The silver lining to this new kit is not just the speed, accuracy and attractive, handy rubber effect 'pochette' - it also boasts a GLOW IN THE DARK DISPLAY! Now, that is worth the effort!
Wednesday 27 July 2011
For anyone interested in the poses mentioned in tonight's post...
 |
| The Plank |
 |
| The Tree |
 |
| The Warrior |
and of course:
 |
| The Meditator |
Meditations on... meditation
Yoga. It is flipping hard work if it is done right. I hurt more today than I ever have from the gym (for 'ever' read 'a couple of weeks').
So, I went to a new Yoga place last night. They have an unlimited classes for twenty quid offer so I thought why not? Also, I have long wondered about going to a 'proper' place to see how it is in 'real' Yoga circles.
It seems that how it is done is with more noise - well, not everyone - just one person to whom I will return. Who was it? You ask (you might!). It was not skinny, young woman who made no eye contact, nor was it the clearly bonkers middle-aged woman with halter-top AND bra with standard straps. This is not a good look for anyone but bonkers people in Yoga rooms may wear this 'style' with impunity and even some elan where a similarly aged woman in any Sarf London high street just looks like a raddled old chav. She was, despite the lunacy very smiley and made polite conversation about the room temperature and so I allowed her to be liked. Until one of her feet found itself uncomfortably close to my face during a particularly tricky move. This wouldn't usually bother me too much - but this foot was of the type even a hardy chiropodist would retch at... it took me a moment to re-gather myself but I pushed on... through the noise of the only man in the group. Yoga men: very specific type usually but he didn't seem to fit the usual. He looked more like an accountant who used to do rugby at university but is more of a watcher than a player nowadays. He did make a brief nod in my direction when he arrived, hint of a smile and then straight to HIS mat (my guess is, if someone else went there next time, he'd be a bit put out - a touch of the towel on the sunbed about him). He settled himself, a few feet away from me so (ideally) out of reasonable ear-shot. He falolloped down and began to breathe. Of course, he'd been breathing when he arrived - he was definitely alive - but this was special breathing. Noisy YOGA breathing. Or rather NOISY Yoga breathing. I wish I could explain it adequately - it was kind of tricky to categorise. It was uninhibited, let's just say that - oh, and that it was upheld for the entire time we were doing the physical yoga - he did shush once we moved to meditation. Thank goodness manky-foot-woman arrived shortly after him.
Others at the class included a woman who was clearly way beyond beginners group but graced us with her bendiness as she was accompanying her pal (almost wider than she was tall) once the class had started thus I call them the 'two disruptively late women'. They were ok though and with the bendy pal to live up to, I felt rather sorry for wider-than-tall woman. She wasn't as bendy as her friend and was not good on one leg but a game girl and didn't give up - you have to admire that.
I did ok at the physical side of things - didn't fall over during 'the Tree' or fart during 'the warrier' or indeed, crash to the ground begging for mercy during 'the plank' so was, all in all quite pleased. Now we move to the meditation section of the proceedings. Usually in a Yoga class you do about an hourish of bendy, stretchy, fall-y-over stuff and then do the lying down with a blanket, thinking about your points of energy and flowers and such. It is my favourite part and after the physical stuff, it really does feel wonderful.
So, lying on my mat, cushion under head, blanket over me, eyes closed, I was ready to relax. The teacher lowered the blinds and lights to a gentle darkness, candle light at the other end of the studio flickered (ok - opened my eyes to see what she was doing). It was the perfect time to let all those worries and anxieties slip away and focus on the breath (that's what you do - obviously noisy-breath-man was prepping for the meditation from the get-go). We did the conscious relaxation of hands, feet, legs, and so on. We felt the heaviness; we gave ourselves up to the stillness... drifted... into total...
Sleep. I must have gone out like a light as the next thing I knew, I was awakened by a loud snorting, snore. At least I'm pretty sure it was loud; it woke me up. And it was definitely not the noisy-breath-man or manky-foot-woman who were my nearest mat neighbours. I know my own particular brand of snore - it had all the hallmarks. I'd like to think only I heard it but the fact that the teacher made creaky steps towards me at the moment I came to consciousness kind of suggests she'd heard it too.
I can only hope manky-foot-woman was so caught up with her own lunatic thoughts she didn't notice, and noisy-breath-man is a fair enough sort of a fellow to accept the failing of annoyingly noisy breathing issues in others.
So, I went to a new Yoga place last night. They have an unlimited classes for twenty quid offer so I thought why not? Also, I have long wondered about going to a 'proper' place to see how it is in 'real' Yoga circles.
It seems that how it is done is with more noise - well, not everyone - just one person to whom I will return. Who was it? You ask (you might!). It was not skinny, young woman who made no eye contact, nor was it the clearly bonkers middle-aged woman with halter-top AND bra with standard straps. This is not a good look for anyone but bonkers people in Yoga rooms may wear this 'style' with impunity and even some elan where a similarly aged woman in any Sarf London high street just looks like a raddled old chav. She was, despite the lunacy very smiley and made polite conversation about the room temperature and so I allowed her to be liked. Until one of her feet found itself uncomfortably close to my face during a particularly tricky move. This wouldn't usually bother me too much - but this foot was of the type even a hardy chiropodist would retch at... it took me a moment to re-gather myself but I pushed on... through the noise of the only man in the group. Yoga men: very specific type usually but he didn't seem to fit the usual. He looked more like an accountant who used to do rugby at university but is more of a watcher than a player nowadays. He did make a brief nod in my direction when he arrived, hint of a smile and then straight to HIS mat (my guess is, if someone else went there next time, he'd be a bit put out - a touch of the towel on the sunbed about him). He settled himself, a few feet away from me so (ideally) out of reasonable ear-shot. He falolloped down and began to breathe. Of course, he'd been breathing when he arrived - he was definitely alive - but this was special breathing. Noisy YOGA breathing. Or rather NOISY Yoga breathing. I wish I could explain it adequately - it was kind of tricky to categorise. It was uninhibited, let's just say that - oh, and that it was upheld for the entire time we were doing the physical yoga - he did shush once we moved to meditation. Thank goodness manky-foot-woman arrived shortly after him.
Others at the class included a woman who was clearly way beyond beginners group but graced us with her bendiness as she was accompanying her pal (almost wider than she was tall) once the class had started thus I call them the 'two disruptively late women'. They were ok though and with the bendy pal to live up to, I felt rather sorry for wider-than-tall woman. She wasn't as bendy as her friend and was not good on one leg but a game girl and didn't give up - you have to admire that.
I did ok at the physical side of things - didn't fall over during 'the Tree' or fart during 'the warrier' or indeed, crash to the ground begging for mercy during 'the plank' so was, all in all quite pleased. Now we move to the meditation section of the proceedings. Usually in a Yoga class you do about an hourish of bendy, stretchy, fall-y-over stuff and then do the lying down with a blanket, thinking about your points of energy and flowers and such. It is my favourite part and after the physical stuff, it really does feel wonderful.
So, lying on my mat, cushion under head, blanket over me, eyes closed, I was ready to relax. The teacher lowered the blinds and lights to a gentle darkness, candle light at the other end of the studio flickered (ok - opened my eyes to see what she was doing). It was the perfect time to let all those worries and anxieties slip away and focus on the breath (that's what you do - obviously noisy-breath-man was prepping for the meditation from the get-go). We did the conscious relaxation of hands, feet, legs, and so on. We felt the heaviness; we gave ourselves up to the stillness... drifted... into total...
Sleep. I must have gone out like a light as the next thing I knew, I was awakened by a loud snorting, snore. At least I'm pretty sure it was loud; it woke me up. And it was definitely not the noisy-breath-man or manky-foot-woman who were my nearest mat neighbours. I know my own particular brand of snore - it had all the hallmarks. I'd like to think only I heard it but the fact that the teacher made creaky steps towards me at the moment I came to consciousness kind of suggests she'd heard it too.
I can only hope manky-foot-woman was so caught up with her own lunatic thoughts she didn't notice, and noisy-breath-man is a fair enough sort of a fellow to accept the failing of annoyingly noisy breathing issues in others.
Monday 25 July 2011
Getting started...
So, as I said before, the reason behind starting this blog thing is my rather sudden face to face with proper health issues. Diabetes, cholesterol and the attendant plop that comes with.
So. Hard to describe just how far away from a gym-bunny I am but if you imagine a cross between Jo Brand and Ruby Wax attitude wise, that's about it. I'm not sporty, cannot catch a ball (or anything thrown at me - my instinct is to SAVE MYSELF!). Nor can I run in a way that is anything other than 'girl'. If anyone remembers an episode of 'Friends' where Phoebe runs - you have the picture.
To make matters worse, not only do I love to cook, I love to eat. I do not understand why anyone would subject themselves to a diet and the Kate Moss line "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" (or something like that) - leaves my jaw a-hangin... I could make a list of things I believe I've eaten to disprove this but the fact is, I'm supposed to be doing an MA dissertation at the moment and really don't have 4 hours to spare!
So, I get the talking to from the Doctor, I sit myself down and have a think. No brainer really... stop with the pies or meet your maker way earlier than you planned... So.
Gym, diet changes, Yoga and take control.
The Yoga I have done before, Pilates too. I loved them and really wasn't too bad, however, after falling on someone (attempting a shoulder stand way before I was up to it) in the Yoga class and farting loudly in the Pilates class (there is a LOT of waving of legs in the air - these things happen when you pass 40)... I gave those particular disciplines a rest.
The diet changes are straightforward enough - stop eating the stuff you like and start eating the stuff you pretend to like if you go somewhere fancy to eat. Although, I draw the line at broccoli - as far as I am concerned, it is the work of a fiend.
And so to the gym. As I stolled back through the doors (I've made one or two half-hearted attempts before), Shaun the trainer (person, not item of footwear - but with the sporty theme you might get confused) looks up, beams at me "Hi!" he says "So, here we are again". It was more resignation than either a question or a statement of fact - he looked a little older I felt, a little weary. But manfully, he took me on again, went through my program of torture with me and is kind enough to hide his surprise each day when I reappear. I'm taking him some eggs in on Wednesday - my chickens love to share. I think he needs building up a bit.
So. Hard to describe just how far away from a gym-bunny I am but if you imagine a cross between Jo Brand and Ruby Wax attitude wise, that's about it. I'm not sporty, cannot catch a ball (or anything thrown at me - my instinct is to SAVE MYSELF!). Nor can I run in a way that is anything other than 'girl'. If anyone remembers an episode of 'Friends' where Phoebe runs - you have the picture.
To make matters worse, not only do I love to cook, I love to eat. I do not understand why anyone would subject themselves to a diet and the Kate Moss line "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" (or something like that) - leaves my jaw a-hangin... I could make a list of things I believe I've eaten to disprove this but the fact is, I'm supposed to be doing an MA dissertation at the moment and really don't have 4 hours to spare!
So, I get the talking to from the Doctor, I sit myself down and have a think. No brainer really... stop with the pies or meet your maker way earlier than you planned... So.
Gym, diet changes, Yoga and take control.
The Yoga I have done before, Pilates too. I loved them and really wasn't too bad, however, after falling on someone (attempting a shoulder stand way before I was up to it) in the Yoga class and farting loudly in the Pilates class (there is a LOT of waving of legs in the air - these things happen when you pass 40)... I gave those particular disciplines a rest.
The diet changes are straightforward enough - stop eating the stuff you like and start eating the stuff you pretend to like if you go somewhere fancy to eat. Although, I draw the line at broccoli - as far as I am concerned, it is the work of a fiend.
And so to the gym. As I stolled back through the doors (I've made one or two half-hearted attempts before), Shaun the trainer (person, not item of footwear - but with the sporty theme you might get confused) looks up, beams at me "Hi!" he says "So, here we are again". It was more resignation than either a question or a statement of fact - he looked a little older I felt, a little weary. But manfully, he took me on again, went through my program of torture with me and is kind enough to hide his surprise each day when I reappear. I'm taking him some eggs in on Wednesday - my chickens love to share. I think he needs building up a bit.
Friday 22 July 2011
Suggestions please...
I do not like the design I have chosen but really need to do other things so this is temporary. :)
Healthy dinner - and a stinky one too (F is out at end of term bash so I am free to stink the place up) smoked haddock.
Oh gawd... that sounds like my opening gambit in my only ever journal aged 9:
"I had spring vegetable soup for lunch and played out with Colin after"
Not only was it the opening, it was the closing. Must have got caught up in playing out...
Healthy dinner - and a stinky one too (F is out at end of term bash so I am free to stink the place up) smoked haddock.
Oh gawd... that sounds like my opening gambit in my only ever journal aged 9:
"I had spring vegetable soup for lunch and played out with Colin after"
Not only was it the opening, it was the closing. Must have got caught up in playing out...
Oooh Hello!!
Right, here's the thing.
I have spent so long trying to work out whether I want a purple page or I want to give the impression of sophistication with a less out there colour, I've worn myself out!
However, this is a brief hello and a how do I make this work kind of a blog...
What's it about? Why am I doing it? Well, first off, because I locked myself out of Twitter permanently and secondly because even Facebook doesn't give me enough room to chatter on and I can't just SHUT UP like other people.
Also, and this is really important, my life seems to be at a proper grown-up turning point - I'm 44, 3 stone overweight, Diabetic and lazy. Oh and my last cholesterol reading was an 'impressive' 8.1... at 44 that is (apparently) no joke. So I have to change a lot of habits, make a lot of choices and do a lot of new stuff. I don't know if anyone it will be of use to will come and stick a head round my blog-door but it might just be useful. It will certainly keep me quiet and F won't have to listen to me rattling on so much... hmm.
SO, this is going to be about my adventures at the Gym, with my medication (please note, I have spared you the details of the revolting early days side effects), and in my new 'healthy' life... Let's see what shakes down shall we?
I have spent so long trying to work out whether I want a purple page or I want to give the impression of sophistication with a less out there colour, I've worn myself out!
However, this is a brief hello and a how do I make this work kind of a blog...
What's it about? Why am I doing it? Well, first off, because I locked myself out of Twitter permanently and secondly because even Facebook doesn't give me enough room to chatter on and I can't just SHUT UP like other people.
Also, and this is really important, my life seems to be at a proper grown-up turning point - I'm 44, 3 stone overweight, Diabetic and lazy. Oh and my last cholesterol reading was an 'impressive' 8.1... at 44 that is (apparently) no joke. So I have to change a lot of habits, make a lot of choices and do a lot of new stuff. I don't know if anyone it will be of use to will come and stick a head round my blog-door but it might just be useful. It will certainly keep me quiet and F won't have to listen to me rattling on so much... hmm.
SO, this is going to be about my adventures at the Gym, with my medication (please note, I have spared you the details of the revolting early days side effects), and in my new 'healthy' life... Let's see what shakes down shall we?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)