Food FOMO

Over the last week, I’ve been playing with the idea of food FOMO. I have it. I’ve got food FOMO. I’ve been thinking about what it is, why I have it, what it means for me, and how to get rid of it. Then it occurred to me that food FOMO might just be another name for ‘total lack of self control when it comes to food’. Having said, that, I think perhaps it isn’t. I think food FOMO is it’s own thing.

Food FOMO = fear of missing out on food.

Sometimes it’s a fear of missing out because there’s finite food available in that circumstance. That’s the most obvious version of food FOMO, and I also think it’s the easiest to deal with. I think though there’s some deeper food FOMO happening, and it (probably) relates to how I’ve thought about food for a very long time. Now, it seems to have morphed into a thought process where I think “well I’m going to get my eating back in line really soon, so I should/can/want to eat X (x = cookie, cake, burger, chips, etc etc) because I’ll miss out on it soon”. Similarly, “well I wasn’t allowed to eat this growing up, and I’m an adult now, so I’ll just treat myself to this today”. Or, “that person drinks wine every night and they don’t carry extra weight, and I don’t drink much, so I can have wine too”.

It’s funny, but I often have the conversation with myself that were I to give up the crap, and start committing to eating better quality food, I actually wouldn’t be missing out at all – I’d be gaining better taste, and most likely better health. But then, there’s that little chocolate bar that sits on my shoulder saying “but then you couldn’t eat me….” and the miniature packet of salt and vinegar chips that yells “me too”. And it’s not about junk food per se- it’s about refined carbs that I know make me feel lethargic and bloated, and sugar that makes my heart race, in plenty of forms. I’ve weaned myself off those things once, and I felt better, and I was enjoying the food and find there was plenty enough sugar in it without the extra added, and yet here I am having just eaten a cookie from a wrapper.

I was going to write a very large blog about this, and try and make some resolutions or find actions or conclusions. But the reality is that I’m finding it incredibly hard and confronting to write. I’m feeling ashamed, pretty fat, lumpy, embarrassed, and not able to take action and make some change. I know it needs to come from me- I’ve seen enough people try and fail without their own motivation to know. I know it’s time to change, I know I’m risking an awful lot by staying like this… but here I am. Food FOMO is in full fling, and not sure what to do next.

If the skirt fits… (and it does fit)

Some time, about 12 months ago, I bought a new skirt. I bought it to wear to work- it’s a pencil skirt, which is a miracle in itself- my body doesn’t tend to lend itself to the pencil skirt design. They never (ever!) fit. But this one did, and I bought it. I wore it a bit at first, but I found that it tended to ride up a fair bit when I walked, so  I started to not wear it as much. Slowing down on the wears inevitably meant that I forgot it existed, until one day a few months ago when I came across it in my wardrobe and put it on.

But what was this? The zip was hard to do up. The front of the skirt was tight across my stomach and hips, and the lining was a bit too snug for my liking. it was harder to walk in, and it kind of felt like I was wearing spanx. As much as I hated to admit it, this was just another sign of the weight I’d been gaining.

Consequentially the skirt was relegated to the ’emergencies only’ section of my wardrobe- the place from where clothes only emerge if I’ve forgotten to do laundry for a few too many days. Tuesday was one of those days. My washing basket was overflowing, and I’d worn everything else in my wardrobe that was work-appropriate already. It was time to pull out the skirt. But low and behold, when I put the skirt on, it actually fitted. In fact, it’s a bit loose at the hips. It still rides up when I walk, but I’ve accepted that as just part of the damn thing’s design.

Having the skirt fit is a small victory. It means I’m back(ish) to the size(ish) I was about a year ago (yay), but the reality is that I was not happy at that size. I was heavier than I should have been, carrying excess weight (fatty weight), and I was unfit. Since then I’ve worked hard to built strength, and that’s built muscle, and that’s why I say I’m back to the size I was a year ago, not the weight. Regardless though, I’m still too big and I’m still too heavy. I’m still carrying fat in dangerous places, and I’m still trying to break some bad habits… but I do fit into that skirt again!

Time to step up the exercise

day 21

Well, weekend #2 is down and I’m officially heading into week three- I’m up to day 15!! Time’s kind of flown and it makes me worried that I’m not trying hard enough, not pushing myself hard enough. My food’s been pretty great- the only thing I wasn’t completely happy with over the weekend was dinner last night- Indian takeaway. Having said that, I didn’t have any rice or bread- curries only- which means I was consuming veg and meat (all good) and a bit too much oil (not so good). As far as ‘bad’ meals go, that’s not too bad. Especially when the rest of my weekend was very good- I even said no to garlic bread on Saturday night. Garlic bread!!!! I was so so so tempted to just have on small piece with my pea and ham soup, but J was great and kind of talked me through it. His support has been so awesome over the past two weeks, I wouldn’t have got this far without it.

On Thursday night my trainer weighed me, and told me I’d lost 800 grams since Monday night. What!? 800 grams in three days?! That was pretty exciting. I’ll weigh in again tonight, so it will be interesting to see where I’m at post-weekend. I’m feeling a bit frumpy, and I’m a bit worried that nothing will have fallen off over the last couple of days (then again, I was feeling this exact same way last Monday and ended up having lost 500 g across the weekend).

So why am I feeling like this? The answer = exercise. I normally have a PT session on Friday night, but last week he couldn’t make it. He left me with exercises to do, but life got in the way and I didn’t make it to the gym (I would have had to cancel my session with him even if he’d been around). That meant I’d done three days of training in the week so far, my old benchmark, so I definitely needed to do some moving and shaking over the weekend to make sure my days were up from 3 to 4 or 5. Needless to say, it didn’t happen. It’s not like I sat on my bum for two days- I was busy the entire time, doing ‘weekendy’ stuff. Visiting a market, spending time with the family, all those kinds of things.

But three workouts in a week is not enough any more. One of the habits I want to kill is thinking that three in a week is enough, and one of the habits I want to kickstart is getting at least four workouts happening per week. For the duration of the challenge, it should really be a minimum of five.

I’ve been reading the forum on the Challenge website. Some people have shed more than 7 kg in the last two weeks. That seems pretty dramatic weight loss in a quick time to me, and I’m wondering whether some of them are becoming truly active for the first time at the same time as changing their diet, which is leading to such dramatic weigh loss? For my own part, last time I weighed in I’d lost upwards of 2.5 kg in less than the two weeks, and I was stoked. I guess I’m just at the point where I actually know I’m capable of more than that, and if the scales don’t show me what I want to see this afternoon then I’ll be really disappointed in myself. Honestly, whatever they show I’ll be disappointed in myself- because I know I could have done more to get a better result.

But I didn’t, and the lesson is learned. I’m heading into week 3, and it’s time to stop making excuses. Food’s doing really well- time for the exercise to match it.

I weigh how much?!?!

I’ve always prided myself on having a pretty realistic view of my body. I know I’m not tiny, and I don’t try to squeeze my way into clothes that are too small for me in the desperate hope that fitting into a size 8 means I actually look like I’m a size 8. That’s not to say I’m beating up on myself about my size either- what I know about my body is that, in reality, I am ‘average’. My dress size is average, and my shoe size is average (how do I know this? There’s never any sales items left in my size. All the other average sized women have already gotten in ahead of me and bought those average sized clothes). Over the past few years I’ve learned, more or less, how to dress to best flatter my body.

And for that reason, I’ve never been too fussed about my weight. “It’s not about the weight, it’s about the shape” has been a common thought flitting through my brain. Similarly, “I feel pretty good, and I exercise regularly, the weight’s not an issue” and “I’m tall- I’m supposed be heavier than someone that’s shorter than me”. Funny. As I write this, I know I still believe these things, but seeing them written down also makes them sound pretty lame. They look like excuses right now. The only one that doesn’t is my firm belief that weight is not an indicator health- you can be heavy but that weight can be made up of muscle, not fat, and therefore you’ll be extremely healthy and fit despite what the scales say.

Anyway about 12 months ago I got myself a personal trainer. I imagine I’ll write about him a bit in this blog- let’s call him PT for the sake of ease. When I first saw PT I had goals besides weight loss- I was mainly wanting to focus on injury recovery. Despite that he weighed me, we set some secondary weight-related goals, and I assumed that without changing my diet, if I added exercise into my week I’d probably see some weight loss happening. It didn’t. When he weighed me 12 months ago I weighed 75 kg, and when he weighed me week after week, I still weighed 75 kg. There were some weeks when I put in a really concerted eating effort and would drop a couple of kilos, but inevitably I’d stay at 75 kg. During all of that time I was really upping the exercise- over the last year I have consistently done 2-3 PT sessions per week, focusing on strength-building and weights. I lift weights. I’m not afraid to lift more than 1.3 kg just in case I build muscle. In fact, I want to and have built up some muscle in the last 12 months, and as we know, muscle is heavy. So in my head, while my weight has stayed the same, I’ve been thinking “yeah but I know I’ve put on muscle, so I must be losing fat”. Nuh-uh.

Last week, following a hiatus on the weighing-in and my spending some time in the USA, PT decided it was time for me to weigh-in again. Now, I wasn’t expecting anything amazing. I wasn’t expecting miracles (despite that little voice in the back of my mind that says “maybe we’ll have miraculously shed some k’s” every time I jump on that scale), but I was expecting that I’d still be at that stable weight of 75 kg. Not this time. This time the scales flashed up a number I truly wasn’t expecting… 85 kg. I weigh 85 kg. I am a 26 year old female, and I weigh 85 kg. I’m definitely not that muscley- this is fat, and it’s got to go. Seeing that number flash up actually took my breath away for a second. I shocked myself with just how much I was kidding myself.

Technically speaking, I could lose 25 kg and still be within a healthy weight range for my height. I say technically because if I lost that much I’d look sick and out of proportion- I once did weigh that amount, maybe even slightly more than that, back at the end of high school, and looking at photos I don’t look good at all. I am not on a mission to become as skinny as I can- I’m on a mission to get healthy again.