3 stone in 10 seconds

It's finally time to tell you all about something that I've been doing throughout this diet that I've been really excited about, but that I've not mentioned because I didn't know how well it'd work. My big brother Aaron is an animator, and he got me to take a photograph of myself every day in the same position and in the same outfit (my swimming costume). Then he put them all together in a little film so that you can see me losing the weight!

I think it's seriously awesome! I honestly never thought there was so much of a difference in the before and after shots, but I look like a completely different person and I know which one I prefer! Anyway, check it out!

Amazing right! I just keep watching it and scrolling back and forwards and watching all that weight falling off! But it got me wondering; where exactly does all that weight go? I mean, I know I 'burned it off' by only eating the amount of calories I was actually using and all of that, but what happens when it's burnt? Does it just evaporate, does it ooze out of my body in my sleep, do I (excuse the crassness) poo it all out??? I thought I understood all of this stuff, but look at that video, that's about half of my body weight that's disappeared there! Does that make me less of a person? Are there bits of flab floating around that were once attached to my butt?

I understand liposuction, because you can physically see the stuff that's coming out, but where exactly has my flab gone!?! Not that I want to sent it a postcard or anything, it's just that I was rather attached to it for a long time and I find it bizarre that I can have lost so much of myself and have no idea where it's gone!

Hope you enjoy the video :) It's not all over from me, I still have 4 weeks of 'refeeding' to ween me slowly back on to normal food, and I still have loads to learn about what to avoid and how strong I am around various 'trigger' foods, but this is the end of phase one. And from the video, I'm going to go right out there and call it an unparalleled success.

Boys and Girls

Weight: 13.7 - 13.9 (remind me to only use my own scales from now on. The official ones at Tescos clearly hate me)

Had the best weekend ever. After all of the excitement on Thursday I was literally walking on clouds for at least 3 days. Got half way to work on Friday before I noticed I was strutting! (New development by the way, I always took the bus before but I'm finding that I have the energy to walk now, which has helped speed the weight loss up again)

Friday was spent surreptitiously staring at the door in case he came in, whilst breathing in and out as slowly as possible and doing bugger all work. I have no idea how the pretty people ever get any work done at all!

Anyway, he never came in so I've probably blown it completely by my staggering lack of cool and togetherness, but I still spent the entire weekend discussing it in minute detail with my friends. Every look, every gesture, every word of the 5 minute conversation we had was analysed in depth, along with everything I know or have ever suspected about him. Then there was the obligatory trip to the gym, nail painting session, face masks and hair cut. I feel like a new woman! And the weight is falling off too! All this stress is clearly working for me!

Then on Monday, disaster struck. I had a feeling it might happen on Sunday night, a growing dread gnawing in my insides. I woke up on Monday morning and went to the mirror and my worst suspicions were confirmed. I have a spot.

And what's even more annoying is that I really don't get spots. I don't have a huge amount of good features, but my skin has never really caused me any problems or crippling embarrassment. And what have I been eating to cause this? Milkshakes and soups! Not Mars bars and McDonalds like I was a few weeks ago - clearly someone hates me, and clearly they have a vindictive sense of humour.

So, instead of facing my fears and hoping that this guy will accept me for who I am (because that's been working so well for me!) I spent most of the day hiding in toilets and around doors in case I saw him, or trying to work whilst blocking my chin with my hand in case he suddenly appeared.

And frankly I don't even know if I even really like this guy. I hardly know him. Am I just so overcome with gratitude and excitement and the faintest hint of a romance that I'll jump on the first guy who shows the slightest interest?

SOMEONE HELP MEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Dull and Dreary

Apparently, I'm dreary.

I was informed of this at work today. A lady that I know reasonably well came up and we had the traditional conversation about how well I'm doing, and how much weight I've lost and how she knows someone who could definitely benefit from the same program and can I give her the number (I really think Howard's Way should be paying me for my advertising services, every pound I shed seems to get them another member!)

Anyway, we went through all that, and at the end she casually mentioned that I should go and get some nice, bright colourful clothes to draw a bit of attention to myself. She walked off and I was left looking down at my clothing, slightly perplexed about what she meant. I'm not the kind of person to draw attention to myself much, but surely I dressed the same as everyone else?

Grey shirt, Black skirt, Black tights and black shoes. Topped off with a black coat and scarf. Not about to dazzle anyone. Then I looked around me at the other people in the room. A riot of colours glared back at me, each one screaming for my attention. Greens, Purples, Reds, Yellows, Oranges... and do you know what? I don't have a single one of those colours in my entire wardrobe.

I really don't. I got home and tore everything out and laid it on my bed, and sorted it in to colours. I had four. Black, Grey, Brown and Navy. Four piles. Four choices. None of them exactly eye catching. And I've honestly never really noticed this before!

And all of these girls in my office, the ones who keep getting promoted and getting asked out and who generally seem to have it together so much more than I do, I'm willing to bet that they all have more than four colour choices in their wardrobes.

So I'm going shopping now, and I'm going to be bold and I'm going to be brave and I'm going to at least double my options. I still don't have a body that I'm proud of or want to draw attention to, and I'm only half way through my diet so still have lots to lose (so it's probably a complete waste of money), but I'm sick of being dreary. I'm sick of being passed by. I'm sick of not being worth looking at.

I know that the clothes I've chosen have been almost entirely dictated by my insecurities about my weight, but none of the other girls in my office have perfect bodies (far from it) and that doesn't seem to stop them being bright and confident. My turn.

Good press!

My stupid doctor signed my form today. He looked in to it a bit and did some research, did my medical and it all went fine so he signed. Don't know why he had to make such a big deal of it all, but I've got my signature which will make Howard's Way happy, which means I get my food, which means I can carry on losing weight, which makes me happy!!!

I can't wait until I'm merely 'overweight.' May seem like an unusual stepping block for someone on a diet, but I figure that if I focus all my energies on simply getting down to overweight again I wont get scared. When I've dieted before (I started diets most Monday mornings and they were normally history by lunchtime) I've had a plan to get thin. And thin from obese is quite a long way so I've always given up.

So overweight may not be glamorous, and it may not be what the magazines are telling me I should strive to be, but it'd sure make me happy! My BMI is currently 36, down from 42, but it has to be under 30 before I'm out of the scary orange section on the chart and in to the slightly less scary orange. The Doctor's signed, and I'm on my way (from misery to happiness today)!!!

Bad press.

Weight: 13st 12!!!!!

Went to see my Doctor today. I have to do checkups quite frequently on this diet so they can make sure I'm getting enough of everything that I need, and that I'm healthy and happy. For some reason, he refused to sign my form which states that he's happy for me to continue with the diet. He said he didn't have time to spend with someone who was just losing weight, rather than someone who had a 'genuine health concern.' This is the same man whose immortal words "one cheeseburger away from a heart attack" started this whole damned thing!!!

I'm thinner than I've been in about 5 years, I've got bundles of energy, feel just dandy and was, until he said it, happier than I've been in longer than I can remember. So why wouldn't he just sign it?!?!

I don't know what the big issue is with VLCDs anyway. People who haven't seen me for a while say "you're looking great!," but the second I start telling them how quickly I've lost it, or how easy it's been, they suck in their cheeks, look concerned and tell me "it's not healthy to lose it that quick you know."

NEWSFLASH: It's not that healthy being 220lbs at 1.50m either!

It's like just because I've found it easier than chomping down on lettuce leaves for 3 years whilst saluting the sun and going on brisk walks every weekend, doesn't mean that I'm about to collapse of malnutrition! And now it appears that my Doctor is suffering from the same misconceptions, and wants me back to do further tests.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for checking that I'm healthy. That's why I chose the Howard's Way diet over any of the other VLCDs, because they put such emphasis on health, but if I don't get the form signed and handed back to them, they'll ween me off the food until my Doctor signs it, and the last thing I want right now (and I never thought I'd hear myself say this) is normal food! I almost wish Howard's Way and the Doctor cared just that little bit less, and would just let me decide what's good for me based on how I feel.

I know that there was a lot of bad press surrounding Very Low Calorie Diets back in the day before they were properly regulated, and I know that people are scared because of all of the laughable adverts you see for 'miracle diet pills,' (or, as I like to call them, 'idiot tax') but I just wish people would respect me enough to realise that I have researched this, I do understand what's happening in my body, and I can make up my own mind. Just because I'm fat does not mean I'm a dumbass.

Anyway. Rant over. I've given the Doc all of the Howard's Way information, which I've shown to other Doctors before and they've approved, so fingers crossed I wont be back on normal food any time soon, because I'm actually kind of starting to like the shakes. The butterscotch one is not so good, but the rest are bordering on yum.

A christmas conundrum

I wonder how many bloggers start off by thinking that they'll post every day. And I wonder how long each of them lasts at that.

I think there are good things and bad things about blogging. I love writing it, and I love getting the comments and supports from my fellow bloggers, but the one bad thing is that it does dramatically increase the amount of the day that I spend thinking about the diet and the food that I'm not eating.

Things have settled down in to a pretty good routine at the moment. I've got making and shaking the Total Food Replacements down to a fine art, and I do love not having to spend time thinking about what I'm going to eat when I get home from work. People at work have calmed down now that they've realised that I'm not going to explode/become thinner than them in a matter of weeks. My health is good, my energy levels are great, and the side effects I was experiencing (constipation, dry lips, coldness) have all but vanished.

Yet I can't shake a slight feeling of 'mergh' that I can't seem to describe with an other word.

I think it might be Christmas. I love Christmas, love the build up, love the day itself, love just thinking about it for months and months before hand.... and I honestly never thought before that any part of that love revolved around food, yet I find myself thinking longingly of all the foods that I wont be eating, all the selection boxes that will go unwrapped, and all the puddings that will not melt tantalizingly on my tastebuds.

What does that mean? That I'm so shallow and obsessed with food that the only enjoyment I get from the hi-light of the Christian calendar is cake??? That my love affair with Christmas is really an opportunity to gorge myself without anyone judging me?

Friends and family that I've explained this to, came up with the wonderful advice of simply 'saving' all of the good food until my diet ends 3 weeks after Christmas. Good to know that the art of completely missing the point is not dead! If I save myself a little hoard of cakes and chocolates and puddings ready to tuck into the second the 12 weeks is up, just how long will my new found figure and resolution last? But if I don't, do I really have the strength to miss out on the time of year that I spend at least 11 months looking forward to?

It's a conundrum alright, any tips from more experienced dieters?

What have I become!!!

I have officially become a smug health freak. Not entirely sure how it happened, but slowly over the past three weeks I appear to have transformed in to one of the formerly despised 'health food shoppers' who walk around Sainsbury's looking in to other people's baskets and muttering about the effects of various food products on their insides.

I found myself in Tescos today with my big bro to get officially weighed (my scales are wonderfully encouraging, but perhaps not as accurate as they might be), and actually caught myself judging other people by what they had in their trolleys! I saw a woman with crisps and chocolate, and a bunch of screaming kids who were clearly not in need of any more sugar, and tutted something about blood sugar and glucose under my breath. Then I saw another woman with nothing but a watermelon in her basket, and found myself giving her an approving smile as I passed.

So it's happened. A little knowledge is clearly a dangerous thing in my case! Reading up on what is, and what isn't good to put in my body has become something of an addiction! I've spent a lot of the day on Wikipedia and reading my Howard's Way bumpf, and being completely overwhelmed and scared about the past 20 odd years of putting just about anything in my mouth, I think I'm finally starting to figure a few things out.

I heard of this great game the other day, which I thought we could all play to make the time pass. You have to pick less than 5 items from a supermarket, and you have to make the checkout girl gasp. Simple enough? My brother's girlfriend's sister came up with one, which I think is going to be just impossible to beat:

2 items: a pregnancy test and a pack of wire clothes hangers.

Bet she got some pretty darned weird looks!

So that's today's story. I have been freaking out checkout girls whilst slowly transforming in to the sort of person who brings their own supply of microbiotic foods to parties and wont let their kids eat anything except milk. Oh wait, that's Madonna.

What I learnt today in class

Well today has been frightfully exciting. I have to do little tests once a week to make sure that I'm learning all of the things that I should be learning about what is going on inside my body and why it's reacting in certain ways to certain things.

So I thought I'd share all of this fascinating information with you, my loyal readers. Some of it may be completely obvious to you, but Biology was never my strong point, so bare with me and maybe we'll all learn something! I'm going to be tested on this tomorrow, so if I've got anything drastically wrong, hopefully some genius reader will spot it.

Normally, my body breaks down foods and converts carbohydrates in to brain sugar and blood sugar (also known as glucose). This provides me with the necessary energy to wobble to work and dance around with my hairbrush etc. When I eat more than necessary, the extra glucose is stored in the liver, but when the liver is full too, the excess is converted into a condensed form for storage, which is FAT.

So when losing weight, you have to use up first your energy supply, then the glucose stored in the liver, and finally you can make a dent in the fat. As the glucose stored in the liver is stored with about 4 times its weight in water, the first week of a diet involves lots of trips to the bathroom to get rid of the liver water (as the glucose stored there is being used to run the body) and that's why you lose a lot of weight in the first week!

Did I pass?!?!?

The Howard's Way formula contains about 450 calories for a girl (think boys get about 600), so by about day 3-4 all the liver glucose has been used up, and you burn the fat instead. This is why I spend my evenings peeing in bottles- because they monitor it to see if there is glycogen left, and if there isn't, it's called KETOSIS (which is a good thing).

So there you have it. I call it "Emma's Biology 101."

Speaking of which, why do people say that? 101 I mean, why does that mean a basic level of learning? Think it's an American thing, care to enlighten me?

Opinions on surgery.

Read a great post today from "Tales of the morbidly obese". It's an old post, but will always be relevant I think.

"Sometimes I wonder about the people who stumble upon this blog from comments on other blogs or just from searches. Are they just disgusted like people are in the real world by morbidly obese people? Am I somehow even less since I used surgery to escape the prison of morbid obesity?

Just I am just starting to learn what it is like to travel in a regular size body. No one can know the cumulative effects of morbid obesity without having lived it. Every day is one indignity after another. While you are suffering through those, people expect a constantly sunny disposition. You feel beholden to give them the funny, smiling fatty persona they expect.

What about you? The ones who have stumbled on this blog. Look at my before pictures and tell what you would have thought of me seeing me on the street. How does your impression change by seeing recent pictures of me? Or does it? Is the fat lot cast?"

It makes me really regret my previous post about people who get surgery to 'release themselves from the prison of morbid obesity.' At the time (and this was only a week ago), it seemed like surgery was a cheat. That somehow, by paying rather than working for the weight loss, you somehow don't deserve it. It's taken me a week of drinking nothing but milkshakes to realise that being morbidly obese is payment in itself, and anything that you do to relieve yourself from that prison is a positive step, and one that everyone should respect.

Surgery is not for me, it's not something that I ever considered, but I would like to apologise to everyone who has 'gone under the knife,' because I realise that I've been trying to disassociate myself from you. In my arrogance, I've passed judgement on other people who have been through the social ostracism, taunts, and feelings of self disgust that have plagued me for most of my life, and I have labelled them cheats because they found a way out of it.

Do other people consider me a cheat because I've chosen the relatively easy weight loss plan of a Very Low Calorie Diet instead of stomach crunches every morning? Probably. This diet is the easiest thing I've ever done - I don't have to even think about cooking or washing up, and the weight is just falling off me. It's probably considerably easier than surgery, and involves considerably less risk, money and pain.

I watched Louis Theroux last night, doing a documentary on plastic surgery in which he actually wound up getting liposuction. It was amazing to see the confidence people gained from their surgery, and the happier they were in their lives afterwards. I'm still no fan of it, but who am I to deny other fat people their chance at a happy life where people don't stare at them as they walk down the street. From now, anything that makes someone happy is just fine by me.