Wednesday 26 February 2014

Wednesday Weigh-In 26 February

The wobbles are over. To be honest they were over when I wrote last week's weigh in article as I'd already dispensed with the gremlins and recovered what all dieters need, namely control. I've been somewhat quiet on the blogging front over the last 7 days, at least with regards to dieting. Usually when I go for periods without writing it is because I'm in an unhappy place and don't want to face the music. This week it has been more a question of quietly going about my business, with a steely determination to claw back some of the gains of the past three weeks.

As it has turned out, I've wiped the slate clean. And then a bit more. I've gone sub 14 stone for the first time since I don't know when. Probably 20 years or more. Maybe even a little further back.

Yikes!
While I have been very focused on the job at hand and disciplined with food since the last weigh-in, I've not exactly been living off rabbit food. Last Thursday I bought my son a McDonald's for a lunchtime treat and had one myself. Twice I've enjoyed Truly Irresistible Sticky Toffee Pudding with plenty of custard, thanks to Co-operative and their deliciously tempting half price deal. I've kept away from bread during workdays but indulged in cheese on toast on both Saturday and Sunday. There was even a little bit of grazing on Sunday, but I've become quite comfortable with the idea of having one day a week where I'm picking at things to eat, so long as the remaining 6 I'm not.

This week's loss then has been achieved through control. I've laughed in the face of the biscuits and chocolates being offered to me at work by colleagues. I've kept away from snacks all week, with the exception of Sunday. McDonald's was eaten in sensible proportion, having a medium size wrap of the day meal. Years ago I'd have plumped for a super size meal with at least 1 additional item from the saver menu on top. The toffee pudding was a bit of a vice I admit, but then one night it was factored in as a reward for a 5k run in the morning, and replaced booze which I've quietly taken off the menu.

With all of my focus on my weight, I have dropped the ball somewhat on the exercise front. Beyond my parkrun on Saturday morning, the only time I've pulled on the running gear was last Wednesday night when I didn't go particularly far. Interrupted nights courtesy of the little man combined with a bit less energy from ditching the junk has meant I've not really been up for exercise. I'm acutely aware that the half marathon is less than 4 weeks away now so will have to put in some lengthy training runs between now and then, which means I'll need to fuel up. It was worth sacrificing a few miles in the last 7 days to help restore my sanity. Let's hope it sticks around for a while longer.


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Saturday 22 February 2014

Spina Bifida is not a dirty word

Forgive me for taking the blog in a slightly different direction with this article. Rather than talk about my dieting exploits or bore you further with exercise boasts, I'm going to write about an issue that is very close to my heart, namely Spina Bifida.

There have been quite a number of articles about Spina Bifida this week in the national press, or at least in the online versions. You can read some of these by looking at the links at the bottom of the page, including one that was featured on the Telegraph website. For those who don't want to read ahead, the general jib of these articles concerns research which shows only a third of women are taking folic acid before falling pregnant. As such, their babies are at risk of developing a neural tube defect, such as Spina Bifida.

I appreciate you may not really know what Spina Bifida is. Rewind the clock 18 months and I was blissfully ignorant too, but received a crash course during the pregnancy of my second son after his 20 week scan revealed that he had drawn the short straw and was the 1 in 1000 unborn children affected by the condition. While 9 out of 10 Spina Bifida pregnancies are terminated in the UK, we chose to continue, with my gorgeous little man born last February.

Where does folic acid fit into this equation? Well, if taken in the months prior to conception, it is said to reduce the risk of neural tube defects by up to 70 per cent. A number of countries have introduced folic acid to bread flour to ensure than mums to be are getting a sensible dosage. Part of the stir in the media this week has been the discussion of this happening in the UK. Cue lots of negative comments about governmental meddling by inserting man made chemicals into staple food, which will only be to the short term benefit of females of child bearing age. I'm not going to make a case for or against messing with a loaf of Warburtons, but I do think that if more people were aware of what Spina Bifida is, there would be a lot more people wanting to proactively take folic acid.

Spina Bifida for my son has meant the following. His spinal column did not form properly, causing part of the spinal cord to exist outside his body, in the form of a lesion on his back. Hours after his birth, a neurosurgeon operated, to repair the spinal column. However, the exposure of the spine results in nerve damage. As a result, the function level below the lesion is impacted, meaning bladder and bowel issues along with a degree of lower limb paralysis. He requires catheterisation five times a day. We're yet to fully discover his mobility impairment, though the physiotherapists are optimistic he will be able to walk, albeit with assistance. A wheelchair is likely to be necessary for anything further than short distances. We'll need to adapt our house or look for a more suitable property. We're already becoming familiar with a range of clinicians, including his neurosurgeon, bladder specialist, physio, paediatrician and urology nurse. There are medical appointments a plenty, including MRI scans and videourodynamics. From reading stories from other parents of Spina Bifida children, we appear to have got off relatively lightly, with no additional surgery or stays in hospital to date. Long may that continue.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about our lot. We made our choices. There were 'options' presented to us. I'm very much in the pro-choice camp, and can fully understand why others may reach an alternative decision when faced with the prospect of all that is listed above, or in many cases far worse. The prospect of more women taking folic acid, whether hook or by crook, is a welcome development, particularly if it results in less families having their world turned upside down following an anomaly scan.

Of course, while taking folic acid could be good news for 70% of affected pregnancies, there will still be Spina Bifida babies due to other 30%. My wife took folic acid when we were trying for a baby. A Dutch lady who responded to some of my recent tweets informed me that she did the same, and yet her newborn son has Spina Bifida. Whether folic acid is introduced to bread or not, there will still be families like mine who will receive a diagnosis they were not expecting. And that is why I am a passionate supporter of the Shine Charity. Not only do they actively push the Go Folic message, but they are also on hand to provide information and guidance about Spina Bifida (and Hydrocephalus). When we first learned about our son's condition we had more questions than answers. Shine helped us to gain a broader understanding of the condition and what it could mean in practice. Their input was invaluable, certainly more so than the regimented 'Spina Bifida Bad' voices we heard from various doom merchants we spoke to in the days and weeks following the scan.

I was rather annoyed with one article that referred to Spina Bifida as a disease, before a couple of tweets to the editorial team saw the word amended to condition. My son is certainly not diseased. He is just like any other 12 month old. He loves to sit and play. He claps his hands. He takes great joy in splashing his daddy with bathwater. He can be a real pain in the backside when he decides to wake up at 4 in the morning. He is now trying to crawl and making a bloody good fist of it. Admittedly he looks more like a commando slithering through mud on his elbows, but he's finding a way to get round despite his mobility impairment. He was awarded Star of the Week at his daycare provider today. Was he pleased about this? You bet!



I am incredibly proud of my little ray of sunshine. There are going to be challenges ahead, but they will be overcome. Spina Bifida is not a dirty word, and thankfully there are organisations like Shine who are prepared to educate about the condition as well as spread the word about the benefit of taking folic acid.

I will be doing my little bit to spread awareness too, by running my first half marathon next month, wearing a Shine vest and fundraising for the charity. You can support me by offering sponsorship on my Just Giving page - all donations go straight to the charity and any pennies you can spare will help to support families like mine that are affected by those two little words.

Thanks for reading, and wish me luck on 22 March when I tackle 13.1 miles!



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Wednesday 19 February 2014

Wednesday Weigh-In - 19 February

There was no need for atmospheric music building to a crescendo this morning. I knew the outcome of Wednesday Weigh In long before I jumped onto the scales. For the third straight week there is a gain and whereas there have been no alarm bells ringing out in previous weeks, my attention is now firmly been gripped. A tipping point was reached a couple of days ago, and now I’m consciously moving back into diet mode. There is no point in talking about maintenance if all I’m doing is piling on the pounds.

Not a giant leap for mankind, but an unwelcome upward trajectory

I stopped the rot on Monday night, putting an end to the feasting that has become daily ritual of late. While it was too late to reverse the effects of the preceding days, it felt good to call it quits. It is a very strange feeling knowing that you are hurting yourself with food, but when I’m on a downward spiral, I find it very difficult to stop. Although never formally identified, I tick most of the characteristics of a binge eater. Compulsive overeating is more than just seeking comfort from a box of chocolates or a tub of ice cream. I certainly never got to 24 stone through indulging in just an occasional treat. It is a constant need to eat, whether hungry or not, despite knowing that I don’t need to.

When I find myself rummaging through cupboards grabbing handfuls of breakfast cereal, I know there is a problem. Recognising it as an issue is the first step to addressing the situation. I’ve become adept at dieting through adopting a tight disciplinary approach to what I consume, thus suppressing compulsion. My attitude towards weight maintenance has probably hindered me. I was supposed to be keeping things steady at 14 stone rather than looking for further weightloss. Psychologically I think this was a green light for my defences to drop and with broken sleep thrown into the mix, I cooked up a nice big portion of dieting sabotage.

The good news is I feel I’ve emerged from the slump. Yesterday I didn’t deviate from my three meals, barring a couple of mouthfuls of my eldest son’s leftovers. I rejected biscuit and chocolate overtures from colleagues. I kept my grubby mitts away from the cupboards apart from when there was legitimate reason to do so. I feel like I’ve re-established control and pushing this dieting juggernaut back on track. Even the little man obliged last night giving me a whole night in my own bed for the first time in quite a while.

The last three weeks have seen me gain 4 pounds. I’m making demands of myself to have a loss next week. With good eating habits restored and intentions for some lengthy training runs in the coming days, that is a realistic target.





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Tuesday 18 February 2014

On the comeback trail

After yesterday's fairly downbeat entry, I'm pleased to report I'm closer to my usual self today. I didn't get a brilliant sleep last night, with the little man making himself known at 4am, but I managed to chalk off a few solid hours before hand and that made a world of difference. I won't say that I was completely chipper throughout the day, but nonetheless a very different personality to the moody beast that filled my shoes on Monday.

The cameo run last night helped restore some resemblance of sanity. It was a defiant slap in the face to the doom clouds I'd allowed myself to be swallowed up by in recent days. The turnaround will have come too late to see any benefit on the scales tomorrow (expecting another gain) but whereas I've been eating without a care for the consequences, the last 36 hours has seen restraint.

I've not run tonight. I could have done in some desperate attempt to get back to even on last week's weigh-in but to be honest that seemed futile and a waste of a training run. Instead I plan to go for what will be my longest circuit to date tomorrow evening, subject to the weather.

Fundraising has been going well, with the total inching towards £300. I struck on the idea to sell Cadbury's Creme Eggs after seeing they were on offer at Tesco (12 for £2, bargain). I bought two boxes for the office and invited my colleagues to have them at 50p a pop with all proceeds going to the run. The idea caught on and I subsequently sent three boxes to my friends at RateMyPlacement - whether I go home with the award at their bash next month or not, they are an incredibly good bunch, and I'm grateful for their support.

I don't fear the scales tomorrow. What will be will be. When they show me as heavier than last week, it will be fully merited. However, I now feel in a better place, ready to embrace the tried and tested diet rituals, train hard for the half marathon and get on with every day business that has seemed such a struggle of late.




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Monday 17 February 2014

The Art of Self Destruction

It has been a frustrating few days. To be honest it has been a frustrating few weeks. Whereas in January I got my head down, dealt with Christmas and put myself back to where I want to be, February to date has been 17 days of damage. Trent Reznor might call it the art of self destruction. I'd borrow another of his song titles to articulate what I've been of late. Piggy.

When I'm on form, I can diet, exercise, work, be a great dad, decent husband and keep going like the duracell bunny. Knocked out of stride, the diet goes to pot, exercise is removed from my dictionary, work becomes a struggle and while I'll always do my best for the family, I'm not great fun to be around when I'm exhausted. Dosing up on sugar and caffeine stabilises things in the short term, but when that avenue has already been passed all that is left is the inevitable crash.

I've probably been there today. I was unusually abrupt with a colleague, snappy when I got home. After days of overeating and not getting enough sleep, all I really wanted to do was crawl up into a ball in a dark room. But the kids still need putting to bed and dinner still needs cooking. Realising that my fatigue was more mental than physical, I reached for the running gear and opted for a dose of shock treatment, A short, quick run around the block designed to wake me from my slumber.

21 minutes is a not a long run for me these days, but tonight I think it was long enough to clear the cobwebs. I don't want a Head Like a Hole. Nor do I want to Hurt. Tomorrow is another day, a chance to start afresh. Hopefully back on track.


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Wednesday 12 February 2014

Wednesday Weigh-In - 12 February

Last week I was positively laissez-faire about gaining 1 pound. This week I'm incredibly relieved that I replicated the feat rather than multiplied the damage. It appears that my idea of maintaining a healthy weight consists of stuffing my face like a lunatic for several days and then putting myself through 48 hours of detox ahead of a weigh-in. Not exactly a healthy way of doing things and certainly not a methodology I'm keen to repeat in future.

My Achilles Heel over the past week has been biscuits at work. Buy a pack with the intention to have an occasional treat, and before you know it the packet is empty. Repeat the next day. And the next. Over the weekend I didn't do myself any favours either, drinking more on Saturday night than I really needed to, and for no reason. Sunday I went to my mother's house and predictably ate to excess (Love your mother loathe her cooking) and while I did follow this up with an 8 mile run later that evening, it didn't take a genius to work out that I would be up against it for the weigh-in this morning.

So another pound gained. Alarm bells are not ringing yet as I've been fully aware of what I've been doing. I also know what needs to be done to reverse the trend. Cut out the extras and remain disciplined. Sounds so easy and yet the temptation is always there.

No great surprise
If I needed motivation to get back to it, the fact that I have just over three weeks until I attend an industry awards event should help restore food sanity. While I've always maintained this dieting lark is about being healthy, I'm allowed one day a year when vanity takes hold! I'm up for an award titled 'Outstanding Contribution to Work Experience' and having been a finalist in the same category the last two years without taking home the gong, I'd like to think that it will be a case of third time lucky. I've bought a new suit to reflect my smaller physique, and know I'll be in front of photographers and camera crews. You don't get many opportunities to feel like a rock star working in Higher Education, so when the chance comes along you want to make the most of it.

Two years ago I was 'Highly Commended', receiving a bottle of champers from Olympian Steve Backley which was nice. Last year I had much more important things on my mind than winning, as the Awards fell just a few days after my son was born and was still in special care following his surgery. This year, well we'll just have to see. Win or not, I want to look my best, just for one day.

Highly Commended - Close but no cigar!
So hopefully I've got my recent gorging out of the system now. A few weeks of being relatively good will mean I can head to the NUE Awards on 7 March looking good, feeling great and hopefully will have something to celebrate by the end of it.





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Monday 10 February 2014

364 Days Later

I’m not quite sure where to begin with this article. Do I chasten myself for buying packs of biscuits at work last week and scoffing the lot? Shall I talk about experiencing 4 seasons in 5k on Saturday morning, when a mix of glorious sunshine, rain, hail and gusty winds made conditions testing for ParkRun? The 6 cans of cider on Saturday night? Going to my mother’s house on Sunday where I consumed fruitcake, chocolate cake, trifle, a huge dinner and biscuits, before setting off for an 8 mile run in the evening? Or how about managing to remove the skin from my heel this morning courtesy of an incident with a wheelie bin?

To be honest, while all of the above could fill a number of blog articles, the only thing I’m really interested in writing about today is reflective of where I was 12 months ago. On this day last year, my wife and I pootled off to hospital unsure of when we’d be home again. Full of nervous energy in anticipation of meeting our little boy and seeing how his surgery would go. The next morning we met him and our journey began. Tomorrow we celebrate his first birthday. In that context, all of my trivial diet/running ramblings are rightly put in their place.




Friday 7 February 2014

Fitter. Happier. More Productive

Last night I caught the tail end of a programme on Channel 4 called My Baggy Body. I'll have to watch 4oD at some point to take in the full show, but in essence it is about people who have lost an awful lot of weight, but subsequently found themselves with excess skin. It is something that I know about only too well. Having ditched 10 stones since the beginning of 2007, I'm very well acquainted with this unwanted side effect of getting healthy.

The bloke on the programme last night was a guy called Gregg. As I only saw the last few minutes I don't know his full background but it was clear that he had undergone cosmetic surgery to alleviate himself of his saggy mid-drift. He seemed happier in himself, though was left with surgical scars around his waist.

It got me thinking about my physique, and whether I'm happy with my appearance post weightloss. I've got bits that aren't particularly flattering, particularly around my chest and tummy. I'm not somebody who goes to the gym to pose in front of mirrors for hours rather than work up a sweat, so vanity isn't really an issue, but I would certainly prefer to look a little different. Whether I'd ever consider surgery is very doubtful. I'm not depressed about my shape and to be honest the scarring would only serve as a reminder of what I was before.

My wife pointed out to me last night that when I've got a shirt on, nobody can tell what is going on underneath. And she is right. My excess skin is not an eyesore. I wear slim fit shirts in the office which shows an air of confidence. When I'm stood upright, I look pretty lean nowadays. Minus the shirt, when I lean over, my chest and stomach fall out of place and it looks like somebody has pinned Tesco carrier bags to my torso.

It is a small price to pay for long term health. Would I rather be 14st with a mildly embarrassing physique, or a 24st man with a 48 inch waist again? No contest really, so the baggyness remains. My modelling career doesn't look like taking off any time soon anyway!

I sympathise with anybody who feels uncomfortable with their body. I didn't undergo weightloss purely for health reasons - I hated how I looked and eventually did something about it. Losing weight will help you physically but it doesn't necessarily follow that you will learn to love your body as a result. For me, I'm in a much better place now than I was in years gone by. The meaning of the song doesn't really tie in, but some of the less bleak lyrics hold true. I am Fitter, Happier, More Productive. If that means carrying around some flappy parts, I can live with that.





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Wednesday 5 February 2014

Wednesday Weigh-In - 5 February

The headline news this week is I've had my first gain of 2014. However, in the immortal words of Corporal Jones, 'Don't Panic'. The scales put me 1 pound heavier this week compared to last Wednesday, but I've no reason for concern. It may sound a bit defensive but what is a pound anyway? I'm using scales which round up or down to the nearest pound. It is a marginal gain at worst.

Up, but not down
I'll admit I've not been particularly diet focused, but then as I said last week I'm now in maintenance mode and so a little movement up or down from 14 stone is not unrealistic. There were a couple of cans on Saturday night ending dryathlon. There were fewer runs than the previous week. Yesterday was my wife's birthday and so I enjoyed a large slab of chocolate cake, rather than go for a 4 mile run the night before a weigh-in like the previous Tuesday. I'm certainly not blaming the gain on a nice treat!

On a more positive note, I feel slimmer. A belt that I bought back in October because my existing ones were too big is now in danger of being replaced having moved onto the last hole at the tight end. I'm also going to have to think about getting my wedding ring resized as my fingers are smaller than they used to be and it has been noticeably looser of late.

I'm feeling good on the running front. I've mapped out some longer routes for me to try out as I push my training forwards in the next few weeks. Yesterday I received a bunch of donations on my sponsorship page and I've recruited some colleagues to bake some wonderfully sugary badness for a Macmillan style coffee morning next month, with proceeds going towards the run. I'm looking forward to a bit of indulgence when that comes around.

Over the next 7 days it would be good to see that 1 on the picture above drop back to a 0. I'm giving blood later today so if I was so inclined could check the scales tonight for reassuring comfort. But I'm very happy with where I'm at right now. I'm not blase enough to say the weight can take care of itself, but so long as I don't do anything silly, my exercise will keep things in check.




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Tuesday 4 February 2014

The Kindness of Strangers

Since entering the bloggersphere some time ago, I've been pleasantly surprised by the level of support that exists. For all the talk of social media trolls, and lets be honest the abuse thrown at the likes of Stan Collymore goes beyond the pale, I've found the world of blogging and Twitter to be full of people who want me to do well.

In recent weeks, I've hooked up with a #WobblesWednesday collective of bloggers who are trying to do something about their weight. I love the encouragement that everybody gives to one another, leaving comments on blogs and interacting through twitter. The number of positive messages I receive for my weigh-in articles provide added incentive to do well. Until now I've very much dieted alone; now it feels like I've got a mini-community rooting for my success.

Away from the dieting, I've received kind words in support of my running exploits. Since exchanging tweets relating to parkrun, we've continued to interact, culminating in mutual sponsorship for our forthcoming runs. The fact that somebody I've never met wanted to help with my fundraising efforts is quite incredible. I wish them all the very best as they prepare to tackle the London marathon in April.

While I'm on the subject of sponsorship, I've been touched by the response to date. People who I've not seen for a very long time have shown immense kindness. My great aunt and uncle on my father's side who I have not spoken to for years got wind of my half marathon plans in a Christmas card from my mother, and put a cheque in the post. I've received donations from people connected to my time short time in Swansea some 12 years ago. A guy I knew from school added to the sponsorship pot, saying he found my blog inspiring, and he was trying out my spinach and chorizo salad for lunch. All relative strangers, all incredibly generous.

My blog has even found an unlikely source of support. Author and former Conservative Party MP Louise Mensch took an interest after I responded to some of the posts on her JoyHacks website which explores personal happiness and well being. A few tweets from Louise's account made a noticeable increase in traffic to my blog. I don't necessarily agree with or endorse her often outspoken political views, but we share a lot of common ground on fitness and health. Besides, anybody with close connections to Metallica is alright in my books.


Of course it not just strangers and people from my past whose support has helped my dieting and fitness kick in recent times. My loved ones, friends and colleagues have all played their part too, not least my wife who has taken charge of the boys on Saturday mornings since July, while I've been improving my performance over the 5k distance. I can't thank everybody individually, but would like to offer a collective Cheers.

Just under 7 weeks to go until I run 13 miles. With the kindness of strangers, as well as the support and love of my nearest and dearest, I've nothing to fear.



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Monday 3 February 2014

Enter February

So January came and went. All in all I had a pretty productive month. Christmas weight dealt with. Half marathon training taken up a few notches despite a pause for some lurgies. Barring the first couple of hours of New Years Day, I remained alcohol free. With the calendar rotating into February, I wasted no time in getting my hands on a nice cold beverage, followed by another.

A massive two cans of Strongbow consumed on a Saturday night, following a near 11k run. I didn't exactly push the boat out to celebrate the end of Dryathlon. When I think back to my younger days when I could drink like a horse, I rather shake my head and wonder where I used to put it all. Pint after pint after pint, followed by the inevitable kebab or large portion of fried chicken. While a Saturday night in front of Nick Knowles and a lottery show isn't exactly the height of entertainment, I'm happier spending my weekends in a low-key fashion than piling on the pounds down the pub.

I've dug out a photo of me in my mid-20s from a boozy weekend with friends. I'm stood pint in hand next to the Stag, who is wearing a lairy shirt with inflatable sheep to boot. I had to take a second look when I was flicking through this photo collection as in some cases I didn't instantly recognise myself. Certainly this is not one of my prettier images from yesteryear. Hard to believe the same guy will be running a half marathon in a matter of weeks.

BigFatRebel in his full glory
It wasn't alcohol in isolation that saw me rise to 24 stone, but it was certainly a contributory factor. Reducing my booze intake when trying to lose weight has been invaluable. If you want to shed a few pounds without having to go hungry, cutting back on an evening beer or glass of wine is an easy way to get started.