So after two months away from work, I'm heading back to my regular day job on Monday. I have to say it has been an absolute privilege to be able to spend these weeks with my youngest, watching him develop up close and personal. We've weaned, we've got the hang of intermittent catheterisation and even sprouted a tooth along the way. It has been good to have the opportunity to walk my eldest to and from school ensuring he settled, though we're yet to have much of a breakthrough in him being able to answer my recurring question 'what did you do at school today?'
As much as I've enjoyed the last couple of months, I think I'm ready to get back into the swing of office life. While being at home with access to the fridge and cupboard hasn't been to the detriment of my diet, returning to a more rigid daily routine will probably help ensure I get to Christmas in the best possible shape. Without the daily walk to and from school this week during half term, I'm feeling myself slide back towards old habits. Inactivity breeds further inactivity, so a bit of 9-5 won't hurt.
If any of my male friends get the chance to take additional paternity leave, I'd thoroughly recommend it. Obviously the economics have to be right for it to happen, but if you're happy to get your hands dirty and play daddydaycare, the experience is so much more rewarding than your regular pay packet. Admittedly I've been somewhat annoyed at how many times I've had people of the opposite sex comment that I'm 'playing mum' - you'd have thought that in the 21st century we may be a bit further advanced than resorting to gender stereotypes, but seemingly not in the NHS!
Be warned though, it is not just an excuse to take a couple of months off work to dig out the playstation while jr takes care of themselves in the corner. For the first seven weeks my PS3 just gathered dust, though I admit it was tough to put down the copy of GTA5 I held in my palms in Sainsburys on release day, knowing I had just enough Nectar Points to get it without breaking the bank. Admittedly my circumstances have been somewhat out of the ordinary with the little one having a pretty busy schedule to keep. In the last two months by my reckoning we've been to see a neurosurgeon, a physiotherapist (plus Brunel placement student), a paediatrician, an audiologist, a paediatric consultant, seen two separate community nurses, met an occupational therapist assistant (plus Brunel placement student), attended a pre-assessment appointment and undergone an MRI. Throw in settling in sessions at nursery three days a week during October, plus swimming lessons after school for big brother and it is pretty clear that this stay at home parent gig is anything but an easy ride. My level of respect for mums or dads who give up work to look after their children has increased tenfold.
When I began my paternity leave I had concerns that a break from working life would impact upon my diet. On the contrary, two months away from the day job has had a pretty good effect. More than a stone lost, a 10k run, lots and lots and lots of kilometres walked with a pushchair. All good things must come to an end though, and so on Monday I go back to the coalface. It was fun while it lasted.
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Wednesday, 30 October 2013
Wednesday Weigh-In 30 October
Just a short update this week. The scales remained at 14st 9lb this morning, and I celebrated this by eating like a horse at my mother's house this evening. Can't beat a bit of roast lamb and oodles of pudding once in a while.
Back to work on Monday after a two month hiatus. And I'll be just over a stone lighter than I was the last time I sat at my desk. Result.
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| No Score Draw |
Wednesday, 23 October 2013
Wednesday Weigh-In 23 October
I don't know about you but I never really believed in Seasonal Affective Disorder. It always just seemed like a ready-made excuse for explaining why some people are grumpy. But in the last week or so, I've come to question my disbelief, as the turning of the weather seemed to coincide with me entering a short period of what I can best describe as gloomy. In the second half of last week, every day simple things became ten times more challenging. I wanted to go to bed earlier and earlier. I couldn't help but reach out for the sorts of food I've been trying to avoid over the last year.
And yet things had started so well on Wednesday, getting another positive weigh in and then going for a run while my youngest was having a settling in session at his nursery. However, as the day progressed things just started getting on top of me. My eldest wasn't on great form on getting picked up from school, refusing to talk to me about the accident he'd had and was a little bit lippy for the first time, probably a by product of the playground experience. At the swimming class, I learned that the father of one of my football mates had passed away unexpectedly (more about that in a minute or two). Through the swimming pool window I watched my boy crying at one of the teachers, and when he came into the changing room afterwards did not want to talk about it with his dad. In the noise of kiddies getting dry, my youngest was getting agitated and somehow or other I managed to leave behind my son's nice winter coat. All in all not the best couple of hours I've had in recent memory.
Obviously most of the above was relatively trivial but the sad news of Peter passing did hit me. Not so much in a personal capacity as the man in question was a passing acquaintance who I might say hello to occasionally at football matches. It was more the empathy that I had towards my friend, having lost my father prematurely many years ago. I was a little overcome with both sadness and anger that another father I knew, or knew by association, had been taken well before their time. Peter joined a list containing Robert, Brian, Martin, Mr Redmond and Chris. I thought about them all and the gloom set in. Thursday wasn't very productive. Friday I tried to snap out of it by going for a run, but inside of 2km my head overruled my body and said no. I did walk the rest of the planned route so it wasn't a complete waste, but I just wasn't in the mood. For anything.
Saturday morning I attended ParkRun as usual and found myself buoyed by the pre-race activity. Peter was a stalwart of the event, and his running club turned out in numbers, proudly wearing their colours. The course director gave a fitting tribute and dedicated the race to him. I still wasn't feeling my best but there was no way I was going to give up on the course. My finish time didn't matter. While I found it a struggle, I did feel the gloom clouds break up a little as I made my way round. That didn't stop me eating and drinking more than I needed to over the weekend.
So why may you ask, am I giving such a detailed account of the past week when most of it is not particularly relevant to a dieting blog? Well, the simple fact is that if you dedicate yourself to a sustained period of weightloss, there will be times when dieting becomes both difficult and unimportant. You can't expect to be motivated day in day out, and sometimes outside influence affect your ability to stick with it. How quickly you can regain your motivation will decide whether a slump in temporary or longer lasting. Had I weighed in on Monday morning, I've no doubt that I would be reporting weight gain this week. But on Monday a switch flicked and I returned to form. Back to my tried and tested diet plan. Back to cutting out snacks. Back to getting on with enjoying what is the penultimate week of my additional paternity leave.
Whatever damage I perceived to have done to my waistline up until that point was rescued from then onwards. And then some. I stood on the scales 2lbs lighter than last week at 14st 9lbs. At a time when I expected to find weightloss a painstaking process, I've instead accelerated. Half a stone has gone in the past three weeks and I'm getting close to the lightest I've ever been as an adult. One more pound and the BMI calculator will tell me that I'm Normal Weight, rather than overweight. I take the calculation with a pinch of salt, but it would be a nice landmark to reach.
The clocks go back this weekend. Even with the adoption of murky mornings and 4pm darkness, I'm determined not to turn back the clock and revert to my old ways.
And yet things had started so well on Wednesday, getting another positive weigh in and then going for a run while my youngest was having a settling in session at his nursery. However, as the day progressed things just started getting on top of me. My eldest wasn't on great form on getting picked up from school, refusing to talk to me about the accident he'd had and was a little bit lippy for the first time, probably a by product of the playground experience. At the swimming class, I learned that the father of one of my football mates had passed away unexpectedly (more about that in a minute or two). Through the swimming pool window I watched my boy crying at one of the teachers, and when he came into the changing room afterwards did not want to talk about it with his dad. In the noise of kiddies getting dry, my youngest was getting agitated and somehow or other I managed to leave behind my son's nice winter coat. All in all not the best couple of hours I've had in recent memory.
Obviously most of the above was relatively trivial but the sad news of Peter passing did hit me. Not so much in a personal capacity as the man in question was a passing acquaintance who I might say hello to occasionally at football matches. It was more the empathy that I had towards my friend, having lost my father prematurely many years ago. I was a little overcome with both sadness and anger that another father I knew, or knew by association, had been taken well before their time. Peter joined a list containing Robert, Brian, Martin, Mr Redmond and Chris. I thought about them all and the gloom set in. Thursday wasn't very productive. Friday I tried to snap out of it by going for a run, but inside of 2km my head overruled my body and said no. I did walk the rest of the planned route so it wasn't a complete waste, but I just wasn't in the mood. For anything.
Saturday morning I attended ParkRun as usual and found myself buoyed by the pre-race activity. Peter was a stalwart of the event, and his running club turned out in numbers, proudly wearing their colours. The course director gave a fitting tribute and dedicated the race to him. I still wasn't feeling my best but there was no way I was going to give up on the course. My finish time didn't matter. While I found it a struggle, I did feel the gloom clouds break up a little as I made my way round. That didn't stop me eating and drinking more than I needed to over the weekend.
So why may you ask, am I giving such a detailed account of the past week when most of it is not particularly relevant to a dieting blog? Well, the simple fact is that if you dedicate yourself to a sustained period of weightloss, there will be times when dieting becomes both difficult and unimportant. You can't expect to be motivated day in day out, and sometimes outside influence affect your ability to stick with it. How quickly you can regain your motivation will decide whether a slump in temporary or longer lasting. Had I weighed in on Monday morning, I've no doubt that I would be reporting weight gain this week. But on Monday a switch flicked and I returned to form. Back to my tried and tested diet plan. Back to cutting out snacks. Back to getting on with enjoying what is the penultimate week of my additional paternity leave.
Whatever damage I perceived to have done to my waistline up until that point was rescued from then onwards. And then some. I stood on the scales 2lbs lighter than last week at 14st 9lbs. At a time when I expected to find weightloss a painstaking process, I've instead accelerated. Half a stone has gone in the past three weeks and I'm getting close to the lightest I've ever been as an adult. One more pound and the BMI calculator will tell me that I'm Normal Weight, rather than overweight. I take the calculation with a pinch of salt, but it would be a nice landmark to reach.
 |
| Did not expect this |
The clocks go back this weekend. Even with the adoption of murky mornings and 4pm darkness, I'm determined not to turn back the clock and revert to my old ways.
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