Why don't puppy dogs make New Years Resolutions?

At this time of year most us take a few moments in amongst all the hectic partying and end of year craziness to reflect on what sort of year it has been for us.

Whilst it is always good to be able to have a chance to reflect upon what we have done, and what we hope to achieve the following year, I always wonder why people need calendars to mark off their motivation.

We know the statistics on New Year's Resolutions - 97% of New Years Resolutions will be forgotten about by January 7. Actually, I just made that up, but it's probably close. We'll set a goal that is just too unrealistic, and not based on evidence that we can achieve it.

If you haven't already set up a habit of exercising on a regular basis and being mindful of your nutrition, what difference does a change in a calendar make? Why does next Monday or the start of a new month make any difference? If you are putting things off until then, or tomorrow, or when you have time to get around to it, I can tell you - it ain't gonna happen.

If your goal meant that much to you, you would already be putting steps into place to make it happen.

So don't set a goal for 2013 that is completely beyond your capacity to achieve. What do I mean?

If you haven't been able to 'make' time to exercise every day, and nothing will change in your work or personal life to allow that to happen, January 1 won't make a difference.

If you haven't realised by now that what you've been eating is killing you insidiously, there will be no epiphany on January 1 that will last any more than your hangover or the left over mince pies.

If you haven't by now worked out that the pain in your knee is not because you do too much on it, but you don't move enough, then January 1 will not make an iota of difference.

January 1 doesn't actually mean anything to the Universe. The earth rotates inexorably, never stopping for a moment to ensure that we're ready for the next phase of our life. We age constantly, we regenerate new cells every moment of our life. Waiting for a day in the future to make something amazing happen simply means we don't want amazing to happen enough.

Do it now, today, this very moment. Whatever it is you plan to start on January 1, make a start right now and put the wheels in motion. The Universe is not waiting for you to get your shit together!

So do yourself a favour and stop crapping on to yourself and everyone else about what your goals are going to be. If they meant anything to you, you'd already be doing them. Whatever you are doing now is what is most important to you. If you don't like what you are doing now, then stop doing that, and do something that you want to do. It's not that hard!

And the answer to the question? Why don't puppy dogs make New Years Resolutions? You tell me. If you haven't worked it out by now, you're probably going to make a New Years Resolution...

Why your goal of losing 5 kilograms is a terrible one!

I remember many years ago being told by a fellow Fitness Professional that the most common goals I would hear when speaking to prospective clients would be for them to, "Get fit, lose weight, tone up." He told me, correctly as it turns out, that those six words would haunt me over and over again.

He was right! One of my major frustrations as a coach and trainer is how the first and third of those goals are so bland and non specific to be almost meaningless, and the middle one is simply too specific!

Now before you all try and jump all over me, and no doubt someone will, I am ALWAYS advocating specficity of your goals. But there is a difference in being specific and being unrealistic and focussing on the wrong things.

We'll ignore the get fit and tone up goals for today, but suffice to say before you say that to a Fitness Professional you should consider extensions of those: Get fit for WHAT? Tone up compared to WHAT? As soon as you exercise if you haven't exercised for some time, you are going to get fitter. At what point do you reach your goal? As soon as you start exercising and doing some resistance work, and hopefully get some good nutrition going you are going to become leaner, and by definition you are 'toning' up. Is that where you stop? Of course not, you'd want to keep going

So why is wanting to lose 5 kilograms such a bad goal? For some people, losing 5 kilograms of bodyfat would be the perfect amount to lose, would see all of your body's organs and systems working in harmony and you'd be flying. Happy days!

But what is it about the number 5 that is so important? I have people come to me and say they would like to be 5 kgs lighter, when clearly another 20 would be life changing for them. Why do we limit ourselves to just 5? Would 6kgs or 9 be better? Or are you thinking about the wrong things?

There are a number of factors behind it I believe.

1. People are applying past peformance to future goals. They've been able to lose 5kgs before, and that is what they think they can achieve again. But one must ask the question, why do they have to lose 5kgs again, or in the first place?
2. A small goal is something that isn't too scary, even if they have no idea of whether they should lose more fat, or gain muscle, or being the same weight but being leaner would be more beneficial for them. 5kgs is achievable within a month if you get everything right. Will you commit to even one month of putting the right plans in place? If you're focussed and are ready to make it happen you will. If you deep down don't believe that you can do it, then you can train for a year and still not acheive that goal.
3. Their friends lost 5 kgs and they don't want to be left behind. Seriously, that may be why people want to lose that number! Why does what someone else achieves make any difference to your health?

So what am I on about this time?

It is almost impossible for the average punter to measure 5kgs of fat loss. You'll gain some muscle, you'll lose some fat, but what happens on the days when you jump on the scales after a great workout and you've gained? How much does that play with your mind? Makes you feel like giving up and that none of it is worth it. Go on, tell me that has never happened to you.

Our focus, your focus, my focus should be on health outcomes. Reducing body fat is a major part of improving your health outcomes, however thinking about a specific number of kilograms to lose, unless you are an elite athlete and know exactly what you need to weigh to compete, is just counterproductive to acheiving some even better goals.

Throw out the idea of 5kgs, for you own sense of self worth, your overall health and if nothing else, for MY sake!

Set some great goals, goals that will mean so much more to you than just focussing on your numerical relationship with gravity. So instead of focussing on losing 5 kilograms, focus on the goal that would be achievable if you achieved a leaner, healthier body.

So enough with the limiting self belief that 5kgs will make your life complete, and get about creating some amazing goals. You can dream better than that. You deserve it. But only you can make it happen.

End of rant!

Check out Krystle Vogler - one of the SUPERSTARS from the EFM LEANing Challenge - the pictures are only part of the story:

"Einstein once said “Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.” Under his theory I was considered insane!

 I had been training consistently in the gym for over a year and although I could see growth in my muscles, my flabby tummy and hips were not shrinking like I had hoped. I kept telling myself “If I just run a little further or a little faster, then I will see results soon.” Don’t get me wrong, exercise is important and improving personal bests is very rewarding, but I knew deep down that I had to address my diet in order to achieve my goal of a flatter stomach.
...
That’s when my good friend Matt from EFM Health Clubs Geelong told me about the 30 Day EFM LEANing Challenge. I knew straight away that this was the guidance I needed to kick-start a new and healthy relationship with food.

When I started the challenge I will admit I was sceptical! The recipes were so delicious, I wondered how such yummy food was going to help me on my journey to a slimmer me! Let’s face it... most “diets” consist of boring and bland food. But on the LEANing Challenge the variety of foods was amazing and I never felt deprived or bored with what I was eating. In fact, I have discovered a wide variety of new and healthy foods to incorporate into my daily life. I now base my diet around the ingredients I used in the LEANing Challenge, experimenting with my own recipes, and continuing to use the ones in the plan.
 

 I feel blessed that I have had the opportunity to learn so much in such a short amount of time in regards to food! I can now pass these principles onto my children so they can establish healthy eating habits early in life and avoid the pain of being overweight that so many people experience.

The best day of the LEANing Challenge was the last day when I took my final measurements. I had lost almost 12cm from my hips! Aside from the changes to my waist line, I felt energized, my skin became clearer, and I gained a heck load of confidence in myself!

To anyone that is wondering if the 30 Day LEANing Challenge is for them... let me ask you this… Is being unhealthy and unhappy with the way you look working for you so far? I knew I deserved better! And so do you!" 

Kat!

Geez! You have no idea how hard it was to get this story in print, and when you read it you'll be wondering why it wasn't screamed from the top of the mountain.

Kat is Linc's partner, and Linc was kind enough to share his story a little while ago on this blog, about how he rose up from the dark days and fought his way to good health. I count Linc as one of my best friends. He may not always be around, but you know he's around, and judging from Kat's story, you can see that he was always around for her whilst she battled her own demons!

I'm honoured that Kat would share her story with us, as she doesn't really know me (yet), and I ask so much of people to give their story. Thank you Kat!

It was the first day of Prep. The class was sitting cross legged on the carpet, fidgeting, waiting for the teacher. I noticed a little girl sitting off to my left and thought she looked nice so I smiled at her lots when the teacher wasn’t looking. Smiling was a good way to make friends. The little girl already had a friend she was sitting with and both of them whispered behind their hands and pointed at me, all the while I’m grinning like a Cheshire. When the teacher had finished we got up off the floor and I gave a little wave to the girl and her friend approached. “Stop smiling at her, she doesn’t want to be your friend.” “Why?” I replied. “Because you’re fat.”

Kapow. The first, and certainly not the only time in my life when I was made blatantly aware of my physical shortcomings. Sure , we were 5 and the girl probably didn’t even really mean what she said, but it’s one of those profound moments that come back to haunt you during those moments of wallowing and grant you the permission to finish off the last two tim tams in the packet. After you’ve already eaten the other seven.

So, years go by, and the kg’s followed. By the time I was in my early twenties I’d entered the realm of three digits on the scales and subsequently gave up on any hope of ever wearing a pair of bathers that didn’t make me look like a Greco-Roman wrestler.

I dabbled in various fad diets in my time but my first real attempt at making a change about my weight came when I was asked to be part of the bridal party for my brother’s wedding. The change was driven by vanity, but hey, any motivation is good motivation. I gave my bingo wings one last jiggle in the mirror and hired myself a personal trainer. Ben was a dedicated and passionate sort and each week after flogging me in the gym he’d look so hopeful when I jumped on the scales, only to be bewildered that they’d barely moved a notch. For all the hard work I was putting in, I wasn’t getting very far. It would seem that the “rewards” I was treating myself to on the weekends were not conducive to any sort of weight loss progress. The wedding came and went (I just managed to pour myself into the bridesmaids dress) and I could no longer justify the expense of the personal training so that ended and with that came back the wads of fat (and some!) depositing themselves on every square inch of my frame.

It was around this time I met my partner and future father of my children. Together we wallowed in our fatness. I can probably count on one hand the amount of home cooked dinners we had in the first year together. I recall one trip to KFC when Linc handed $70 over for payment of our dinner then he turns to me and says, “Do you think that will be enough?” He was serious. As a heart attack. 

A new relationship should be a time for smiles and giddiness, which in most aspects it was, but I was carrying around some serious spare tyres. And it was making me deeply and wholly depressed and ashamed.  It was hard to smile when you spent the best part of your day pulling at your shirt to release it from between your fat rolls and expending energy thinking about how you can covertly sneak the one chair in the beer garden that your bum fits in.  I would even sometimes miss classes at Uni because I couldn’t find a park close enough to the room and it was too taxing to walk the long way and arrive late where I would almost pass out trying not to audibly huff and puff for the first ten minutes of the lecture.  It was so difficult to smile through the fat, but I did the best I could.

Then not too long after, a funny thing happened. My pants started getting looser.  Linc had begun riding his bike for exercise and was no longer as eager to eat out for every meal inadvertently causing a calorie deficit in my daily intake.  It was slow going, but I’d gone from a whopping, sweaty, 130kg to hovering around 110kgs all from small changes to my diet that I only really noticed in hindsight. 
It was November 2008 when I found out I was pregnant with my first daughter.  To say it was unexpected was an understatement.  I had been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome in my early twenties and my GP at the time had informed me that I would find it very difficult to fall pregnant without medical intervention.  And here I was, up the duff!  I was ecstatic.  That same GP had put it down to the weight loss that probably enabled me to conceive.  The pregnancy was text book, and just like the all the movie clichés, I ate for two.  Well, closer to five, but you get the picture.  The day I gave birth I weighed in back around 130kg. 


Having a baby was like being hit by a Mack truck, repeatedly.  Then giving birth to it.  The first few months of motherhood were much the same.  But apparently being run over is good exercise, because by the time the Monster was 5 months old I saw the needle of the scales fall just shy of 100kgs.  Then something just clicked.  I hadn’t been double digits since the previous millennium.  I got religious real fast. 
Dear God, 


Please don’t let me crack a tonne again in my lifetime.

Cheers, Kat.

But, you know, just in case God was too busy with plagues of locusts; I toyed with the idea of giving the exercise thing a whirl.


I had limited experience in the world of working out, so Linc, the brave man he is, offered to give me a hand.  I still had a young baby at this stage and could only find time for a work out after she was in bed at night.  So, when I’d rather be on the couch with the remote and a block of choccy, I was slogging it out in our shed doing a range of crazy exercises that Linc had poached from his own gym.   There were many, many colourful words that circled in my brain whilst Linc barked at me to give him another ten, and on more than one occasion I had to stop myself from punching him in the face during a boxing session.  After another month, I had developed a sense of how to push myself and it was probably safer for Linc (and his nuts) if I carried on myself.  As much as I did not want to suit up and hit the shed for deadlifts and sumo squats, the feeling when I finished and the scales steadily declining made me swell inside.  Everything was becoming....  Lighter.

By April 2010 I was 85kgs and a size 14-16.  The shed work was beginning to get tedious.  I was beginning to have more rest days than not.  I needed to shake things up a bit.  I used to have dreams about running, and sometimes just out of the blue during my day, I would have this inexplicable urge to pound the pavement.  I’d never seriously tried it before so I don’t know where this pull was coming from.  I gave it a crack.  It was hard.  Everything wobbled.  In fact I’m pretty sure my bum was still wobbling 45 minutes after I stopped.  But, I persevered.  The first ten times I was sure I could taste blood.  My knees hurt.  I swallowed a bajillion flies.  Still I kept going.  Then, by the eleventh (or so) time it just got, well, good.  My brain didn’t have to tell my feet not to trip over themselves, my breathing was calm and even, and by the 2km mark a strange tingle ran through me like a mild electric current and I felt awesome.  So awesome I spontaneously tried to high five a runner going the other way.  I scared the shit out of him, but I didn’t care.  Wow.  Better than the 2 for $5 Cadbury family block special, for sure.  I signed up for my first fun run, a 6km.  Linc and the Monster came to cheer me on with my Dad.  I ran like a total unco, all arms and legs over that finish line, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.    

I trained hard after that run trying to build up my base to work towards a half marathon and dropped a few more kg’s.  I was starting to look like the way I felt – a runner.  Then, blow me down, two little pink lines told me I was pregnant with our second daughter. 

I had all these grand plans of being diligent with my diet, running throughout and coming out the other side a freakin’ Olympian.  Yeah, didn’t quite turn out that way.  I did run for the first trimester, but before long the morning sickness coupled with a firm recommendation from my obgyn to ease up on the high impact activities had me sidelined.  So, naturally, I reached for the things that had always comforted me, food.  And lots of it.  I was able to silence that angel on my shoulder telling me to ease up on the cheesecake and justify the devil on the other shoulder that kept reminding me, “You’re pregnant.  It’s not forever.  Go on, enjoy it!  Have another slice!”  The day I gave birth to the Grublet I was somewhere north of 110kgs.  So much for never going back over 100kgs!

As shattering as a wilful toddler and vampiric newborn were I was not comfortable in the fat suit that this pregnancy had left behind.  I was gagging to get out and run again.  At 8 weeks post partum I laced up the runners and headed out.  I shuffled about 500 metres before I realised just how much I had let myself go and was suddenly and violently aware of the road I was going to have to re-tread. 

New Years day 2012 and I weighed in at 100kgs and couldn’t run for more than 5 minutes at a time.  Today, after daily backyard circuit sessions whilst the kidlets sleep, I weigh in at 86 kgs (almost pre preggo weight!) and can run for 10 km with a smile on my face.  I still have a ways to go to reach my healthy weight range, but at this stage I am just enjoying being able to challenge my body in a way that I had never, in my whole fat life, thought possible.   

Would I change anything if I could go back 6 years and do it all again?  Probably not.  This whole, urgh, excuse me, “Journey” (thanks Biggest Loser for ruining that term for me!) has allowed me to make many mistakes and appreciate that anything worth doing is gonna take time, effort and language that would make my Grandmother blush.


Do I have advice for those of you who are looking to shake off the “obesity” statistic?  Plenty.  But nothing I say is going to lace up your kicks for you.  Somewhere under the XXL labels there’s a spark inside that will ignite your whole being if you’re brave enough to let it. 


Right now I’m training for a 15km event at the end of August.  That will be the longest distance I have attempted to date.  15km is a long way.  A long way from being sad and ashamed.  A long way from hiding in men’s clothes.  A long way from the big hair to weigh out the rest of my silhouette.  A long way from the anxiety of having to enter a room of strangers. 


A long way towards the future.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I do know that losing the 44 kilo monkey off my back makes it a helluva lot easier to take the steps toward it.  And that makes me smile.

What do you do when you hit rock bottom?

It's Friday, the day of the week that we've all been looking forward to to get through the week. Most of us will probably aim for a lazy day, and whilst you are doing that, this guy is out there having already smashed out his workout.

Today is not about how to exercise, or what to eat or trekking through a jungle. It's about another of my friends who hit rock bottom in their lives, but found a reason to push on through, taking one victory at a time, taking the smackdowns that life throws at us, but getting up time and time again, over and over, refusing to let the dark days win.

Enough said. Here it is, and thankyou to my great friend for sharing. Take from it what you will.

My story

Mum (Marg) and Father (Derek) divorced when I was 6 months old. Mum remarried when I was 2 years old to Ron, she died of cancer when I was 10. Ron took it hard; I have two half-sisters Rach and Sal. They were 6 and 4 respectively when mum died. Ron loved Mum; he nursed her till the end. He never got over her death. None of us have. I call Ron Dad.

I was mums Boy. She told me everything I need to know, she took me through every stage of her disease process. I even went to the crematorium and put my hand in the oven. I remember it was still warm and it still had ash left in it. She told me about the birds and the bees, she told me about her divorce.  She told me that she bought me a skateboard for my birthday because if she died, Ron may forget to give it to me because he will be busy with looking after us on his own, so she told me where it was so I wouldn’t feel sad.

Dad did well to raise his three kids, on his own. We all did well in school, had great jobs and were fit and healthy. I went to uni for 6 weeks, and then decided to work full time.

I partook in my first triathlon when I was 19, and by the time I was 20 I was assistant to the CEO of the large retail company I worked for. 

I saw a bong (pipe) at school when I was 15. It didn’t interest. I didn’t even smoke cigarettes. I binged on alcohol from the age of 16. My Dad didn’t know what a bong or weed was either.

I did eventually try weed when I was 18, the usual way. I was at a party and peer pressure was involved. I took a hit and loved it.  One toke and I hit the floor. It wasn’t long before I had a habit, built up a tolerance and became dependant. Within three years I was smoking 28+ grams a week. 

I loved weed at first. Weed meant I could control when I slept and it made me laugh, and the life of the party. It gave me a reason to get up in the morning. It made me no longer drink alcohol. What it also did was speed me up mentally, I mean real fast. Ideas galore, problem solve, clear thoughts and no depression. I was super human. I didn’t know I was meant to feel this good.  I’d smoke weed in the morning, at work, after work, before bed, in bed and on the toilet.

Than as soon as it took hold of my life it wrecked it. If weed made me feel so good, why not try other drugs like speed and trips, and pills. I never knew I could feel so low. I never did much of the other drugs. They were bad.

I became paranoid, and then confused then people around me were asking me weird questions like, “are you OK?” I wanted to give up weed and tried, but I relied on it physically and psychologically. I kept smoking, I lost my girl friend, all my friends other than “Pot heads,” I lost my family because I would avoid them like the plague, to avoid them seeing me like that and I lost hope. Then it happened. I lost my mind.

I can’t describe the feeling you get when you have enough insight into knowing you are losing your mind except to say – I was tormented to a point where I had no insight.

I had my first psychotic episode soon after I turned twenty one. The details of what I got up to are a story for another day.

My Dad and my Uncle Lou came to my rescue. I had frightened the shit out of Sally, due to my behaviour so she called them. I was arrested the night before, during my episode but got released in the care of my family.  Dad and Lou literally dragged me into the psychiatric facility for help the next day.  I was admitted, and stayed 10 days. In that time I was secluded, medicated, diagnosed and I commenced antipsychotic therapy. I was discharged as fast as I was treated and next thing I knew I was on to the street. I caught the bus home, to a locked house without keys, alone, medicated glad to be released but ashamed of what had happened and what I had become. I smashed a window to get inside my house to find the bong where I had left it.

The only “friends” I had were smokers (Drug uses), and I knew if I started smoking I wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to smoke weed, I was made aware of the risks by the lovely nurse in hospital. I didn’t even want to smoke cigarettes.  I wanted to go back to the old me. So I got drunk, Jim Beam bottle after bottle, now I had friends and stories to tell. I took my meds, after a couple of weeks I got sober enough to go back to work. I was relieved of my assistant CEO role to work in the warehouse as my boss thought the stress was too much for me, he was right. I was ashamed of myself already; losing my job was a further kick in the butt.

I ended up doing well with my recovery; I did try weed again and relapsed 3 times over a period of 5 years before I got the notion I was not going to live if I kept smoking. I kept touching the flame and getting burnt. Similar psychotic symptoms soon arose each time I smoked. I never needed to be admitted, but I did require intervention regularly by the community mental health team for my drug use and depression.

I decided to become a nurse. A Div 2. I did. I did well with study.  I had been taking Lithium (Mood stabilizer) for five years. I had gained 45 kilos, most of which I gained in the first 3 months of my initial treatment. Alcohol, smoking and bad food choices were also to blame as well as my meds.

I never nursed when I finished the course. I felt I couldn’t look after anyone until I could look after myself, which I wasn’t doing. I thought I would get to know my natural father (Derek), I worked for him for a couple of years, I thought this may help repair my life, but that didn’t work. Dad (Ron) thought I was just wasting my time and my failed relationships on top of everything only left me wanting one thing. Weed, to stop the depression.

Something had to change. I got a job as a nurse, I was way out of my comfort zone, I worked for a few years, I struggled to sleep, I was fat, I would drink, eat and smoke cigarettes but I refrained from smoking weed. I started to meet new people and develop new friendships. I never told anyone about my past. I did tell my new employer about my current medication.

A few years past and I met Katherine. We were just mates. Kat has a story of her own. I told her mine. She was the first to hear it from my point of view. Our relationship grew into love and we moved in together. I decided to stop taking my meds. It wasn’t long before someone mentioned weed and you guessed it, I was hooked again - almost.

I was going to lose the girl that had supported me through some real crap and I was scared of losing my mind again. I took myself back to the Doctor and got help, again and started back on Lithium again.

So Lithium, no weed and I just had to put up with no sleep and the anxieties, depression and stigmas of mental illness along with poor physical health, smoke ciggies and try not to drink too much. My life was awesome- NOT!

I bought a bike, I used to ride. I’d ride to work, to Torquay from Geelong have a ciggie or three and a pie two cokes and ride home. I bought a bench press. I’d ride to Torquay and then do weights in the lounge.

People noticed. I started to feel better. Weird, I know. I was kicking my own ass. Kat joined in. I had the weight to lose; we started a contest with mates.  We both quit smoking ciggies, rarely drank alcohol and things were changing. I lost more weight and started to remember how I was when I first did that triathlon back in the day. Work was going well; I was super nurse and loved my role as a carer. I changed jobs a few times to suit myself and my nursing skills grew.

I decided to walk into a gym. I was just glad to get the weights out of the lounge and learn some new exercises. My physical health and my mental health were definitely on the mend. In 2007 Kat and I got engaged, I was 117.5 kilos and I had lost weight. I never cared before, so I never knew my heaviest, by 2009 I was 76 kilos and fit. We also had our first baby. Then I met Mat. Over the last three years Mat and I have talked about the past, the present and the future. In 2010 I went back to uni and I finish my course this year. In 2011 we had our second baby. I now have goals; one is to work within community health, another is to take my shirt off down at the beach. I carry scars not only physically, but mentally as well.

I’m 78 kilos, 10% body fat, I eat a strict bodybuilding diet, train 7 days, have been med free for 6 years, I don’t smoke anything and still need to pay for a Wedding.

I attribute my recovery to talking, getting help but most of all - Taking the first step.

BANG!! - NOW MY LIFE IS HUGELY AWESOME

Cheers Linc.

Today's guest post is from Stella Cuddihy. Stella is really annoying because she has the courage to question me about my goals and strip through any excuses that I can try to come up with. I was fortunate enough to find Stella's world via Facebook, and through her interaction with some other amazing people. I challenged Stella to pursue an amazing adventure, to trek Kokoda with me. If she is able to overcome some of the physical challenges that this will present, I will be her guide and it will be a privelige to undertake that adventure with her.

I have not edited her post in any way, for reasons that will become apparent. I offer no moral to the story, no judgement of Stella or you. I simply offer this as someone else's story.

A colourful blur, that’s how i see the world. Like an artists palette the colours of the things in the world blend together. I cant see faces or the definition of a flower but it doesn’t stop me. It used to though

Fat that was me A big blob of oozing fat. An image of the tub of lard mum used to keep in our fridge as kids popped into my head that was me. I was disgusting; i could feel the fat seeping through my pores. I broke down and cried. I’d finally had enough I hated myself. I hated not being bale to see properly, I hated the cane that my mobility officer was so keen for me to use. I hated feeling like a victim i looked at the knife in my hand and then i heard a voice.

Tentatively i stepped on the scales,  i couldn’t see the numbers so used a camera to take a photo and then blew it up on the computer until i could make them out. I’m not totally blind just vision impaired enough to be classed as legally blind but you learn ways to make it work you have to. 125kgs. I was shocked i asked my son if it was right. He said yup but its OK mum its just a number. Such a wise 14 year old.  He held my hand when we walked into the gym knowing how nervous and uncomfortable i was. He was my rock a 14year old kid was the one who changed my life.

It wasn’t easy stepping into a gym obese and also being VI It takes me a while to orientate myself to new places but i had to do something. They were all so young and blonde and well ditzy. I don’t think they got it or cared but that was good meant i got left alone. I kind of knew what to do from the zillion previous attempts to lose weight. This time though was different I had a fire in my belly that i was taking back control.

I did weights, my son wrote my program it was kind of cute having him fuss over me his dream was to be a physio, learning difficulties stood in his way but when it came to compassion he was miles ahead. and i  swam well sort of splashed up and down the pool i used to stick a kickboard into my shorts to help me float.  And i walked in the park. I used the internet and found calorie king a free site where you can log what you eat and it told you how many cals you had and gave you an amount to eat each day.  The weight came of 1kg a week

After a few weeks i felt good i was on a treadmill and decided to try running 20seconds i lasted. This disgusted me i knew i was unfit but i knew that was bad. I had a new goal to learn to run. I found couch to 5 km a walk to run program and began it the next day with a couple of changes

Before long i was running 3 km on a treadmill and wanted to run outside. But how can someone run outside who cant see the path. Cant make out pot holes or debris. Slowly.  

A year later 55kg lighter i ran my first ultra marathon 55km. 1 km for ever kg i lost. That was the beginning of a new chapter. Over that year my marriage broke down. I left the state i went in search of myself a real life , eat, pray, love. I met many angels along the way that helped me find myself, learned to accept my disability as just an obstacle. I learnt to trust myself, to trust my senses.

Its been 4 years since that journey began. I no longer use a cane. I  found an amazing optometrist who made me glasses to help me with my running and work. I trained to be a personal trainer. I now run my own business as well as running a program for homeless people to get their lives back.

I’ve had to overcome many obstacles, I was diagnosed with MS a year ago another blow but not a life sentence. Ive learnt that these diseases affect us a lot more if we give into them. Its all about learning to overcome your obstacles not let them control you.

This year i am running my first 100km, a 24 hour track event and doing some open water swims. Yes i did learn to swim thanks to a wonderful coach who like me thinks outside the box.

There is nothing you cannot do guys. Just some things you haven’t worked out yet. If you don’t know how to get there ask Matt or me. Finding someone who doesn’t say cant but says ok lets figure out how is a godsend.

The depression that started this journey still lingers. The voice was a part of myself a part that had been crushed by years of feeling not good enough being told i was useless worthless. The child who held her mother while she died unable to revive her.  Blaming myself for something out of my control. The girl who at 16 was abused by several men. A secret that was never spoken of. That child decided she wanted a turn at life, that I was making a mess of things and it was time to give her a chance. So i did and what a powerful rollercoaster it has been. Letting go of the past embracing the future. Not looking at what people say i cant or shouldn’t do but asking myself what i want to do.

We all have the tools to take control back we just need to make the first step to ask someone if we don’t know how. I now have a list of things i want to accomplish

Swim the channel

Run 100km

Kokoda

Run from Melbourne to Cairns

Have a nude photo taken

Develop a program to help others find their way

Write a book

Learn to sail

And most of all find peace and be happy

Some things the hurdle is the cost, others its just finding the confidence to take the first step but slowly and surely im ticking things off my impossible list and adding bigger brighter things. Its good to have big hairy goals Its amazing when you tick them off.  Heck if i can do it with all my health issues whats stopping you

Amazing work from two of our hardest workers at the Club - if you need further proof that hard work and eating lean and clean gets you results, check out the article from The Geelong Advertiser from Tuesday 24th April on Kasey Fountain and Daryl Williams - so inspirational!

Read the article here

Someone else's adventure

Today's blog is not about me. It's not about EFM Health Clubs Geelong. It's about someone else's adventure. Thank you to the author who has written very honestly and shared his story. This person continues to be an inspiration to everyone that he comes into contact with, and judging from his story, he is slowly starting to believe in who he is. It is members like this that remind me why I'm in this industry.

By the start of 2011, I had let my life spiral into the depths of depression and basically living the life of a recluse, making any excuse not to go places and deal with people. When I did go anywhere I’d never let anyone know what was really going on in my mind. This was the only way that I could cope with being me, I thought, just cut yourself off from everything and everyone and that will work. How wrong was I !!!

The fact that in April 2010 the place that I had worked for 20 years shut down and I hadn’t been able to find any work (and still haven’t) was only helping to make things worse. I’d tried running my own small business for a while but unfortunately that didn’t work real well. Haven’t totally giving up on this idea yet, but that’s another story.

A short time prior to this, the one and only person (except my family) that I truly ever loved and wanted around me just walked away, not to be seen again for a couple of years. The importance of this later.

This was the start of the downward thrust. I’ve always been large but now I couldn’t give a fuck about that or anything else and basically gave up. What was the point of it all, why bother ? Now I was just letting every little thing get to me and was pretty much angry all the time. So what am I suppose to do about this – my answer was to just stay home and eat as much crap as I could. That was the way to fix that, wasn’t it.......yea right. Well it made me happy.

Now back to 2011. When the new year rolled around and I’d spent another new years eve alone, I could feel my health really starting to struggle. I had reached 179.7kg’s, my right arm was almost useless and could barely use it. It was also a huge effort to just walk to the letter box and back.

 I thought “stuff this” and tried losing some weight again, (had tried almost everything known to achieve this before) and guess what..... FAILED AGAIN. This did nothing but to sink the boot in that little bit more. Could I feel any worse or more of a loser ????

This is where my friend re-entered my life for a “visit”. The first thing she said to me was not hello or how are you, no, it was very direct and straight to the point – “Fuck you’ve got fat”. Well to me that was the thing that really ripped my guts and my heart out. I had lots of really really dark thoughts going through my head after this and was now at what for me was rock bottom.

This MADE me get my arse into gear and get serious about the whole obesity thing. I started eating a little bit better and what do you know, I lost 15kg’s.

By now the arm was really getting to me so I went to see a quack (and that is being nice towards her). She sort of looked at it but didn’t seem to care much and sent me for a CAT scan on it. She did a few other little tests then sent me for a whole range of blood test and a sugar test then told me to come back next week. When I went for the scan the woman there told me before we even started that it was the wrong scan for me. Another tick for the doc.

Went back for results of test the next week and she didn’t even want to talk about the arm/shoulder, that I went to see her about, she was on a whole other track now. She told me I was morbidly obese, gee how’d she work that out – bloody idiot, and if I didn’t get help and do something about it fast I would be pushing it to last another couple of years. I also had very high blood pressure, diabetes and a couple of other not important things. Her suggestion was to go and have the gut operation where they actually take ¾ of your gut out.

I looked into this option, but wasn’t even close to happy with what I was being told and was reading about this new and improved aid. Since then there has been plenty of disagreements and wasted time going to and fro with her, so needless to say I’ve finally got rid of her and gone elsewhere. I have decided since then that I will never take that unsafe and easy way out.

So with this I just keep on trying to lose a bit more weight but it just stayed where it was, 165kg’s, and I couldn’t get it to budge. After a couple of months of this I was really starting to get pissed off again.

Over the previous several months, probably 4 – 6, I had been looking up gyms on the net to see what was around me. I had found one not very far away that I used to drive past all the time and think about going in but didn’t have the balls to do it. Was too scared about firstly the owner laughing at me, then the other members just taking the piss out of me. Who was I kidding, just keep driving past and forget about it was my thought. Yes, yet another FAILURE.

It was by then about July, I think, I was starting to get pretty desperate and bit the bullet and drove in but when I couldn’t find the gym easily I just drove back out thinking that’s that. A couple of days later plucked up some more courage again to give finding it another go. This time was better because the bloke I took to be the coach had a group of people outside training them so I knew where to go.

I walked over to the building they were at and this is where my life changed, hopefully forever.

I’m sure I was that scared that I was nearly wetting myself.

I saw the bloke wearing the coach T shirt and thought “now or never” and sort of walked past to see if he would even notice me or if I would just keep walking. This is where this bloke spoke to me and stuck his out and said his name was Matt. We talked for a couple of minutes then he told me to come back the next day at lunch time as that was a quiet period. Ha, bet he thought that was the last time he would ever see me.....

Little did I know then how important and inspirational this bloke called Matt Jolley was going to become to me.

I turned up at noon the next day, we spoke for a little bit then he got me doing some exercises to see how I’d go, I thought I was going to have a stroke but wasn’t going to let him know that, and after about 30/40 mins he said that was enough for the first time, no shit – I thought that 30mins earlier. He said to come back in a couple days and take it slowly from there.

Now I’m thinking I should set a few goals for myself, so I started by making it to 10 visits and a larger one of losing 5kg’s. That’s good enough to start with.

I remember when I went back for my second visit there was another member there and I really didn’t want to try training in front of this other person for fear of her just laughing at me. How wrong was I, this person who Matt introduced as Jacqui White, never did and was very supportive towards me. This made it easier to be there, hopefully everyone would be like that. Over the next few months it seemed that at lunch times it was only the 3 of us there most of time so it was easy to start settling in. And man it’s very inspirational to watch Jacqui workout – she just doesn’t stop and pounds out the workouts. She’s like a bloody machine. Can only wish to be that fit some day.

Over a period my arm/shoulder started to come good, it hurt like hell during the workouts but Matt was great at what he’d get me doing so that helped big time. Now it’s pretty good all round and I have full use of it back... yah.

I found that I had achieved the goals I’d set myself so I had to make more. I was now at 160kg’s. The next goals were 140kg’s and 50 visits. I found going to the gym was now enjoyable and helping me in more ways than just my health and fitness.

50 visits seemed to happen fairly quickly and by christmas I reached the 140kg mark. So then more goals were needed – 100 visits and 120kg’s. Also with Matt realizing that I’m starting to become competitive, something I’ve never been, he keeps throwing little (?) challengers at me. Like bench pressing 100kg’s, then benching the full stack (105Kg’s) to mention just a couple.

These goals have also been met. Along the way meeting some really top people, Jacqui, Cassie, Tom, Wayne, Jenny, Jill and others that I don’t know their names (I should ask) just to mention a few but there is heaps of them.

Don’t get me wrong, this has not all been as easy as it sounds. There has been massive mind struggles and at times I have thought that it’s just not worth it. “Give it up you’ll never succeed like every other time – who are you kidding, just give it up now” was a big mind set through the early part. But over time your thoughts change and boy have mine changed hugely.

I said to Matt the other day that I was really struggling at the moment and that I should set some more goals. We talked for a couple minutes and I was feeling a bit better. Then I told him that in my mind I want to do a 5k fun run by Christmas. In Matt fashion he said what’s stopping me, to which I replied that I can’t run and have never been any good at it. His reply – when I went over to the treadmill for my warm up he set it on intervals so I could see if I could run or not. I had only tried running once prior to this and got about 200 meters before I had to give up because I was totally knackered. Well I ended up doing a total of 3.5k’s and was very amazed. My knee has come out second best but that’s not going to stop me now I’ve started.

After doing this, it was the first time I have let myself be a little happy with the way things are going. Then to read that Matt said on the facebook site for the gym that he was pretty happy about it, well that was it I actually did something I never ever do and welled up a little. To think I could do something to please what I think would have to be the best coach/trainer around was just an unbelievable feeling.

I now absolutely love going to the gym and wonder what, as Matt would put it, all the sooky la la’s were all about.

So now my new goals are 100kg’s and a 5k fun run.

Now at 118kg’s, I think that will be achievable, but the run may be out of reach. That doesn’t mean I’m not going for it and going to give it my best shot.

Yes that is 62kg’s down and when someone asked what I’d lost I told them and could even feel a bit of a smile happening about it. Oh how my thinking and attitude has changed in recent times.

With all the great support and encouragement from my sisters and Beck, Boofhead, ET and the wonderfully amazing Lee, this is rapidly becoming my new way of life and I am loving it finally. As I’ve already said, Matt is totally AWESOME and knows exactly what he’s doing.

By the way, in my rant I think I forgot to mention the best little gym in Geelong. EFM Health Clubs Geelong, owned and operated by Matt Jolley.

Today is 18 April, 2012, will keep updating throughout the year so I can be made accountable to myself.

      Cheers for now

So tell me....what do you LIKE about being obese

I've been following with some interest what has been happening in Atlanta, Georgia, in Uncle Sam's backyard. Recent studies show that 40% of children in Atlanta are obese, and what I believe is worse, 50% of Atlantans aren't that fussed about it. This just stuns me, but having followed some Social Media traffic, I'm perhaps not that surprised about the findings. Strong4Life is a campaign created to raise awareness of the issue. You may have seen some of their advertisements with obese children telling the camera how they feel, and what they can't do. Check here to see one of the ads http://www.strong4life.com/

One of my friends in the USA, Tim Taylor of Bodies Unlimited Personal Training Studios even went so far as to offer one of the critics of the campaign to raise awareness of this issue free training through his Facebook page, an offer which she is yet to take up, despite the fact that she is again on Facebook criticising the campaign. You can read one of Tim's posts here bodiesunlimitedtrainingstudios

I recently posted on Facebook and asked when we as a collective agreed that it was ok to be obese or overweight, given that 60% of Australians are overweight and around 20 - 25% are obese. There was some really interesting feeback, and some serious back and forth from some Alpha type trainers (I was one of course!) To my mind, if more than 50% of the population is overweight, then the majority of people agree that it is acceptable, or else....you guessed it....they would do something about it.

So in a remarkable change for me, I'm not going to preach about the benefits of training and eating lean and clean. One of my EFM Health Club Geelong members is a psychologist, and amongst the numerous pearls of wisdom he bestows upon me, he reminds me to 'emphasise the positives'.

So....tell me....what do you LIKE about being overweight? In order to help you here, I've given you some things that being overweight does to you, so you can decide which of these floats your boat:

1. Not being able to lift your body weight up if you are on the ground
2. Having a massive amount of visceral fat around your internal organs
3. Not being able to bend over to tie up your shoe laces, at least without having to hold your breath
4. Knowing that you probably won't live much beyond 60 so you won't need to worry about superannuation and retirement
5. Carrying an extra person's bodyweight around every day
6. Elevating your blood pressure through the roof
7. Increasing the likelihood of having diabetes
8. Being at a much higher risk of having a heart attack
9. Having to constantly adjust your clothing so your tummy doesn't peek out
10. Having to go through your wardrobe for something that doesn't make you look fat for the wedding you are going to
11. Not being able to play sport or have fun at the park with your kids
12. For Pete's sake, not even being able to do a push up
13. Helps you justify not doing stuff that would be really cool, like surfing, riding a bike, jogging, swimming, playing tennis, kicking a football...

I know I've only listed 13 things that are really cool about being obese, but you can already see how much fun it is. You don't have to list them all, maybe you've got some ideas of your own?

Now before you go and get on your high horses here folks, understand where I am coming from. When I finally decided that I was sick of being obese, I was sitting in a car 10 hours a day, eating donuts to keep my energy up, drinking copious amounts of coffee and soft drink, and I just knew that I could do something about my weight whenever I wanted to. I just didn't, for such a long time.

So the list above? That was my list of things I was dealing with.

So...tell me....what do you LIKE about being obese?