Happy Birthday to me

On January 11th this year (2015) I turned 46 years old. I celebrated the day with family and friends. The sun was out in force, there was a little breeze here and there. The music was playing, the BBQ sizzling. It was a great day and yes we all pigged out on fantastic food and of course alcohol.

The following morning, my first day back at work after three weeks Christmas Holiday leave, I jumped on the scales and saw that I had hit 141.3 kgs (That's 311.5 pounds or 22.2 stone for those who need to understand it in non metric weights).

Now I've always been a big girl and there are physical and psychological reasons behind it (that I'll go into at another time maybe). I used to be 150+ kgs 8 years ago but I had managed to lose 28 kg after my ex husband left and our marriage broke up. (mostly through stress and not eating binges which isn't  a great way to lose weight as we all know)

I managed to keep most of the weight off by having fits and spurts of joining a gym and giving up, walking and giving up because I had found a new man and I needed to keep the weight in check for him. And within reason it worked. I fluctuated here and there but kept my weight reasonably steady over 6 years at around 120 kg.

Until my 44th birthday that is. Until I broke my foot in 2012 (on my birthday yes and no there was no alcohol involved) and spent nine months on crutches without being active and then in 2013 (again on my birthday) my relationship fell apart and within three weeks I was single again.

So between not being active for nearly a year, giving up smoking after 30+ years and then trying to learn to live life again as a single person after doing all the grieving and soul searching and self pity and lack of self esteem that goes with a relationship breakup, not to mention the copious amounts of alcohol that can be consumed during frequent bouts of misery, I could be forgiven for putting on a little weight but hells bells I've put back on over 20kg.

So what the heck do I do. I can't afford to go to a gym. I'm a shocker at bag eating habits. Coke, potato chips and burgers are my friends. Jenny Craig, weight watchers and other diet help places are out of reach financially and I'm such a picky eater I couldn't eat half the meals/meal ideas they offer anyway.  I brought myself a bike mid way through  last year and its collected dust more than mileage. Good comfy sneakers sit idly in the bottom of my wardrobe.

I'm discussing my woes to my good friend Tanya (henceforth known as Ms Peas and I'll tell ya why later) and she suggests I try using the App My Fitness Pal to help with calorie counting and exercise. So I download it, play around, test and trial it and a week later I'm hooked.

All I had to do was fill in all my personal information. Height, weight, measurements etc and end weight goal and it gave me a max calorie intake per day to be able to lead me to my goal safely.

My goal?

To get to 99 kg in 52 weeks. To lose 42 kg by my next birthday

A big ask you say?  I'm a big girl and big girls need big goals to strive to.

This is my story about how I give up on being A Beached Whale forever

So if you don't want to see the semi naked truth then please don't look any further. But I need to face the facts.

This is going to be a no holes barred diary.  It's going to get graphic both visually and verbally. I May even no actually I will resort to a swear word now and again too.

I'd love for you to join me in my journey but if you're squeamish then I'll understand if you don't.

So there you go. You see before you the semi naked truth. Underneath the cool clothes I wear to work to casually hide my bumps and rolls this is me. I look,at myself in the mirror and I cringe at what I see. I cringe that my stomach looks like a beer belly. I cringe that my underarms hang out of my bra strap.  So now you can see too. Can see what I am at the start of my journey. 

So here I go .........