April 17, 2007
And so my first week of Fat Fighters draws to a (hungry) close. With less than three hours to go before the clock strikes 12, I’m contemplating congratulating myself by trotting out to Coles to buy myself a gold star With the days of scoffing ice-cream and chippies in glee a long-lost memory, all I can turn to is shiny, gold stickers to mark my first achievement: losing 1.2 kilos. C’mon!
Highlight of the week: not feeling tempted by evil email containing pictures of delicious (*cough* greasy/battered/drowned-in-salt) food. Damn you, Chrispy, you shall get yours. You shall.
Lowlight of the week: having to put myself to bed at 9.30pm last night because I was so hungry, I couldn’t bear thinking about food (or should I say, lack of) any longer.
Goal: To throw out Dominoes pamphlets (does that mean unmarking them from my favourite websites? Aww, man!) and cook myself a Fat-Fighters-friendly Hawaiian pizza.Any hot suggestions? Holler.
April 24, 2007
I’ve always loved Newtown. The people, the bookstores, the clothes shops… but above everything else: the food. Wall-to-wall restaurants, pubs and cafes line King Street, a blissful heaven for the hungry – a kilojoule-packed hell for the Fat Fighter.And so I find myself, another Tuesday, doing the walk from Chippendale to Newtown for my third Fat Fighters’ meeting. Weigh-in: disappointing. Wishing I scoffed down that cinnamon doughnut just to stick it to the man. As Martine, my Fat Fightin’ Leader, myth-busts her way through the meeting (Did you know that eating an apple, grapefruit and eight almonds at the same time WON’T break down all the fat your morbidly-obsese arse hoovered down that day? I know, shock horror!), I find myself day-dreaming about my biggest treats of the week. A Paddle Pop. One medium glass of red wine. A home-made ham and pineapple pizza. I imagine having a delicious red wine shower before turning off my Paddle Pop lamp and wrapping myself in a ham-and-pineapple doona. Then I imagine waking up at midnight, hungry and shitty, and eating my way through the doona – just to stick it to the man – again. Meeting ends. I briskly walk home as the rain shits down on me. Signs flash at me as I stare ahead, my peripherals catching the words ‘burger’, ‘pasta’, hot chips’, ‘pizza’. I nearly throw myself on the counter of Chicken Wizard, but push past, glaring at the happy (and dry) eaters at the cravings-inducing restaurants along King Street. Those gorging bastards. Anyway, with a champagne-drenched (and may I add camembert-indulging) wedding quickly approaching on the weekend, lord have mercy on my Fat-Fightin’ soul. Martine, I’ll try my best, love, but… seriously, a lass can’t turn down bubbly at a wedding, c’mon!
Highlight of the week: Achieving last week’s goal of whipping up a topping-starved ham and pineapple pizza.
Lowlight of the week: Weigh-in. Damn it. Oh well, at least I didn’t pull a Biggest Loser’s Fiona and gain over two kilos. Whatevs.
Honourary mention: Fat Fightin’ Leader Martine remembering my name upon leaving tonight’s meeting. New bestie, perhaps?
Goal: Exercise more. Hate this goal already.
May 1, 2007
I’m in love… with myself. At first I thought it was lust. I’d been having a dirty long perve on myself, scoping out my slightly (and I do stress the word ‘slightly’) smaller waist, sneaking a peek at my arms (which still resemble big, blotty sausages… but maybe thin sausages, not thick?), shooting glances at my salad-chowing ass. Oh. Yeah. Baby.But it was tonight’s Fat Fighters’ meeting that made me fall knees-trembling, lip-quivering, heart-pulsating in love with myself. After an oh’so naughty weekend involving truckloads of choc-chip muffins (damn you, Mama McMillan!), Chinese takeaway (damn you, Papa McMillan!), and wine wine wine (damn you, bartenders at Court’s wedding!), I was well and truly in blow-out city. I considered bailing on my dearest Team Leader Martine and my fellow Fatty Fatty Fat Fighters, but decided to suck it up, face the music and let the scales do the talking.And boy, did those scales have a tale to tell. A joyous story of weight loss beyond my wildest dreams. 0.8kg this week. I’ve creamed myself at Beyonce. I’ve creamed myself at Burgerlicious. Ladies and gentleman, I can now officially say I have creamed myself at Fat Fighters. What a beautiful moment. For everyone. Especially me. God, I am just loving myself sick right now.
Highlight of the week: Getting a silver star for my weight loss/surviving the wedding food/drink unscathed. Three weeks – three stickers. How you like them apples?
Lowlight of the week: Not drinking more wine at the wedding.
Goal: Cook something new. Maybe. If I can be shagged. I’m going easy on myself… ’cause of the love. The sweet, sweet love.
May 8, 2007
1.3 is such a nice number. If I remove the decimal point, I’m left with my work office level, my Wagga street number, and my parents’ wedding anniversary date. Most importantly, I’m left with the number of kilos lost this week. No stupid metaphors, descriptive text or half-assed jokes this week (Thank the lord! I hear you cry…), because I have more important things to do. Bask in the glory that is my current weight loss, tuck myself into bed with a saucy lil’ number of a book, and get some Captain Snooze. Three hours of dance rehearsals await tomorrow, and my thigh muscles are already yelping at me to log off.Highlight of the week: Eating a handful of hot chips and a mini pizza… oh, and drinking an absolute SHITELOAD of wine on Saturday night.Lowlight of the week: Losing my camera. Damn that wine.Goal: Survive my hot Italian restaurant date with Tozer without overdosing on garlic bread and wine. Note: I am currently freaking out because I promised myself a non-food related treat for when I lose 5 kilos. I decided on a day at The Bathhouse – basically you get your kit off and get a big ol’ scrub/spa with a bunch of other naked lasses. Am absolutely terrified. Am even more so now that a girl from work is coming and we shall very possibly be seeing each others’, er, bare essentials soon(ish). Nothing like staff morale to keep a Fat-Fighter motivated. May 15, 2007
This week I put Britney Spears’ binge sessions to shame. I had my way with everything sugary, sweet and in between. I scoffed Twisties, buried myself in a five-storey chocolate mousse, got all hot under the collar with bacon, eggs and Turkish bread, wined and dined myself all through the Nation’s Capital, and embraced my inner lolly eater (Sherbert bombs, oh fuck yeah). Oh, and did I mention, whored my way through TWENTY FOUR choc-chip cookies last night?! Yes, was a joyous three-day binge, but nothing lasts forever… Weigh-in was short and sweet, considering. Final result: I’ve whacked 200g back ON, but I’m cheering. Hell, I was just relieved it all didn’t jump back on. Anyway, with about four dance sessions this week, next week shall hopefully be binge-free and filled with lots of kilo-dropping. Until then, get your ass to the Enmore Theatre on Saturday night to see my shrinking self dance the FUCK outta the night. It’s going to be smoking hot. Midriffs. Booti. Mini skirts. AMAZING MUSIC. Sweat. HOLA!!!!
May 22, 2007
To lose or gain weight, that is the Fat-fighting question… But to only lose 100g in a week, c’mon, people! Meh, who am I kidding? I can’t eat an entire Mini Bar’s worth of chocolate (OK, and Pringles) and other sordid midnight snacks and not expect these kinds of results. Total loss: 3.5kgI have 1.5kg to go before I can get my kit off at The Bathhouse (it’s my losing 5kg treat), so any tips, suggestions or ‘You’re a fatty fatty boomba’ comments would be greatly appreciated. I need all the motivation I can get.Your ever-slowly-shrinking gal pal, Boots x
May 29, 2007
TWO effing kilos gone. One week. No cheating. No binging. Super-sized dancing effort. Learnt to cook around five new dishes (which brings my repetoire up to a mind-boggling seven). Eff me, what a feeling, what a feeling. Total loss – 5.5 kilos. You know what that means… it’s nudie-rudie time for me at The Bathhouse. Look out, world! PS: Let’s just say it feels reaaaaally nice to weigh what I do right now. I think I owe it all to my dance lesson last night. Mory, my uber-cute West African teacher, absolutely ran us into the ground. I’m surprised I still have muscles today.PPS: TWO FUCKING KILOS!
June 5, 2007
It was an excursion for the senses during my walk home from Fatty-fatty Fat Fighters this chilly Tuesday evening. Sight: A dead rat on the curb – you’d think that would be enough to make me lose my appetite, but no…Sound: “Man, I’m going to smash this whole pizza” (this young guy may just be my one true love).
Smell: His pizza. Not to mention his four friends’ pizzas.
Touch: OK, I didn’t actually touch some other poor sod’s food, but my face was darn well nearly pressed up against the window as I ogled his meal. How I wanted to have my way with his succulent chicken Thai dish, oozing with noodles and grease and all things nice…
Taste: Well, on the walk home, I tasted nothing but the dull familiarity of my own saliva (which was growing by the bucketload as I approached my apartment, no less). Dinner, however, was luckily a delicious home-cooked pizza topped with yummy things, using my new-found carbalicious delight, Mountain Bread, as a base. Genius stuff.All in all, I am a happy chappy.
Weight lost this week: 300 grams
Total weight lost: 5.8kg
I do have two mighty big dilemmas to face on the weekend. Does anyone know what is considered healthy at a Nepalese restaurant, and does anyone have any advice (anything!) on how I am meant to survive an all-day Food and Drink Extravanga BBQ?I did squeeze myself into a leotard, leggings and shorty-short outfit on Monday night dance class which, frankly if I do say so myself, looked pretty darn sexual. Until next Tuesday…Your 65.1kg (wooooo!) Fat-fighter xx
June 12, 2007
I’ve always hated maths. Numbers + logic = headache.But after tonight’s weigh-in, I have a new-found respect for the metric system. Weight lost this week: 0.7kg
Total lost: 6.5kg
Current weight: 64.4kgSo. Very. Happy. Right. Now.
June 19, 2007
Me. So. Happy.Another 500g gone. Total lost so far: 7kg.Eff this. My fingers are so frozen, I can’t even type. But yay me.
Lowlights: Losing the plot on three out of seven days by binge-eating my way through packets of WW double choc cakes, choc crisps, plus my own amazing mini sausage rolls. A girl needs her treats.
Highlights: Still losing weight despite the Britneyesque binge sesh, buying size 10 (woooo!) dresses and tops, and strutting into work the other day in an XS dress. (OK, the material was stretchy, but whatevs).Only 100g off my Fat Fighters goal. Still 3.9kg off my personal goal.Gotta get some Captain Snooze, waking up at 6am to stretch etc is killing me.
Your ever-fat-fighting fiend of a friend,
Boots.x
June 26, 2007
One chocolate fondue with strawberries and marshmallows.
One MSG-packed, deep-fried Chinese lunch.
One block of Caramello chocolate (please note the word ‘block’).
Half a packet of Red Rock Sea Salt chips.
Half a packet of red and green lolly frogs.
One choccie and nut ice-cream with extra choccie flake (please note the word ‘extra’).
Four slices of Dominos pizza.
Three-quarters of a garlic bread.
Two glasses of Coke (please note the missing words ‘Diet’ or ‘Zero’).
Total damage after The Bingefest to End All Bingefests: 200g gain. Big ups to JT for getting me back on the Fat-fighting wagon Sunday morning.Goal: One week of non-cheating + exercise.
July 3, 2007
I love myself. OK, I said it, I’ve put it out there.I love myself. OK, I’ve said it again.Christ, third time’s a charm… but seriously, I have some serious heart palpitations going on in Bootiland at the moment. Let me tell you about her. She’s brunette, 22, far from modest, and another 1.2kg lighter! She loves cooking new things, dancing up a storm and breaking in her ugg boots. But mostly she loves herself because she has lost 8kg in the past three months. She kinda loves the scales, too – 62.kg – don’t think she’s weighed THAT since Year 7. She’s also got a soft spot for clothing stores now – fitting into size ‘S’ really feels delicious.Damn, what a night, what a night. I need some private time with me/her now.But first, there’s a 99 per cent fat-free hot chocolate for supper! Booti, out. PS: Three months?! Lordy lord, time flies when you’re fat-fighting.
PPS: It’s official. I have no boobs. Nudda. And my ass is getting smaller. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I may have to change my name to miss no-booti.
July 10, 2007
“Naughty, naughty!” *Borat voice*I’m officially a foodaholic. I take it to the EXTREME. You show me a packet of biscuits, I show you an empty packet of biscuits (damn you and your Arnotts Assorted Creams, Mama McMillan!). I see your chippies, but I raise you an empty bowl and a girl licking the leftover salt off her fingers (and, most probably, the bowl).This week was tough. I missed two dance classes, plus had the parentals and boy in town for what transformed into Stuff-your-face-fest 2007. Eating and drinking my way around Sydney has never been so fun, easy or, dare I say it, cheap. Thanks, parental unit. Nette-dog and Big Al hadn’t seen me for two months, so they were a little blown away by my diminishing size. They then took it upon themselves to woo me with food to fatten me back up. Example: I decide to order veggie stirfry with steamed rice and a small glass of white wine. They spend the next hour trying to forcefeed me their meals, PLUS bread (smothered in some insanely delicious peanut satay sauce), plus a bottle of wine.I lost it.I’m not going to list every naughty-naughty thing I ate because it’ll probably make me cry, but I will say this. I lost 100g this week and I am so effing relieved. Total lost so far: 8.1kg
Still to lose: 2.8kg
Weight: 62.8kg
Nearly there.
PS: Gagging for Japan. No point counting (well… limited, it happens automatically these days). Just sushi as far as the eye can see.
Boots, out. xx
July 17, 2007
I’m so close to my goal weight I can smell it (and believe it or not, it smells better than a large H&P pizza used to). I had a loss this week, but just a small one: 200g. This brings my grand total lost so far down to 8.3kg, leaving my bod at a contented 62.6kg. I don’t know what the next step is to knock the final 2.6kg off. Apparently, I have to shock my body because it’s grown used to my happy little routine of healthy eating. More exercise? Hello, I’m already doing four dance classes plus walking everywhere like the non-car-driving-non-public-transport-using chump I am. Different food? OK, possibly. Might get a bit kitchen-friendly this weekend and attempt to make a few new things. Meh, that’s all I’ve got. In other Fat-fighting news, it seems this weight loss has given me a scary amount of body confidence, something I seemed to have lacked for the past too-many-to-name years. Two weeks ago, I got (most of) my kit off for a life drawing sesh with my roommate, and this weekend I’m getting ‘the girls’ out for an arty B&W photo sesh. I’ve become a menace to society!Any healthy fish/tofu/chicken/beef/vegie cooking tips you lovely people are wanting to upload to a desperate chica? PS: Am still on high after last night’s post-weigh-in Vietnamese dinner with Lasvegas and Neyland. Prawns and vegies with oyster sauce, with steamed rice. Shit. Yeah. July 24, 2007
I can’t stop smiling.I’m writing this with a tummy filled with delicious food goodness… pasta, corn, carrot and broccoli… with a fan-effing-tastic choccie paddlepop to celebrate this week’s loss.1kg.Gone.Out of my life.Off my ass.Off my gut.Off my canteen ladies.But mostly, and sadly, off my ‘girls’. Moving on…Last week, I decided to ‘shake things up’ for my body, give it a few surprises and boy, did I ever. I bought fish and grilled up a storm, steamed my way through a bloody greengrocers and whored my way through so much skim yoghurt and fresh fruit, I think I’m looking somewhat like a banana/kiwi fruit cross. Hot, hot stuff.The best bit? The food’s healthy, filling and, even better, delicious. Have I embraced my inner Jamie Oliver/Nigella Lawson/Iron Chef? Yes, yes, I have. Now, hand me the chopping board, I have a roast vegetable couscous to prepare! Total lost so far: 9.3kg
Current weight: 61.6kg
Kilos until goal: 1.6kgBoots, out.G xx
The Fat Fighters Chronicles 