10 reasons why I fail at dieting (or why losing weight is not a piece of cake)

by Tara Cain on February 3, 2009
in lifestyle

1. I set myself unreasonable goals.
I have a pair of jeans that I adore. I wore them before I had babies and I want to wear them again.
Every time I shed a couple of pounds, I rip them out of my wardrobe and try them on. When I can’t get them over my thighs I am crushed.
Yes, I know my body parts have shifted around and settled in new and interesting places since giving birth.
Yes, I know it’s going to take time to get back to anything near my former glory days.
And yes, I know I am being too hard on myself.
But still, I do it every time and every time I throw them with great force back into the back of the wardrobe muttering ‘what’s the bloody point’ to myself.

2. I lose heart quickly.
This is linked to number 1. If I don’t lose 2lb every week without fail I think there’s something wrong with me. My heart sinks, my will to carry on sinks and I end up thinking I may as well just eat that whole packet of Jammy Dodgers for all the good this dieting lark is doing me.
I get disappointed with myself and give up. I feel like the only way I’m going to ever have significant weight loss is by being involved in some kind of chainsaw accident.

3. Any weight loss I do achieve I feel the need to ‘reward’ myself.
I wrote this down and thought ‘you silly bloody sod’. In work I march on through until the job is done. I am a completer finisher. I am not happy until the end result is achieved.
So why the hell can’t I apply that to me?

4. I don’t love my body. Never have.
This is a big downfall for me. Even in my prime (and I didn’t appreciate that I was in my prime until I passed my prime and started looking back and regretting that I didn’t enjoy my prime!) I didn’t like the way I looked – all big boobed and curvy.
And what worries me the most is, is this also another prime moment and will I be looking back in years to come thinking ‘I wish I looked like that now’. Hells bells, I cannot let that happen.
I know part of the process for change is accepting who you are right now, but what if you’re super critical and can’t find anything you like about yourself?
I know this sounds really really bad, but I’ll bet you there are many many people out there thinking ‘actually, that’s me. I’m the same’. Whether you’re fat, skinny, curvy, athletic or pretty much perfect, I’ll guarantee there are people who absolutely hate something about their look.

5. I’m impatient.
I want weight loss and I want it right now.

6. I bury my head in the sand.
If I have a disasterous day (no exercise, sat on my ass in front of the computer and devoured the contents of the fridge/cupboards/emergency stash in the car) I throw in the towel and say to myself ‘well there’s no point carrying on this week. I’ll start again on Monday/on the 1st of the month/when the sun starts shining.
I have every excuse for why I can’t do it NOW.
Also I know I have to lose weight for health reasons (I have a history of angina in the family) but I’ll almost pretend like it’s not one of the most important things to me and do the equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and going ‘la la la la la’.

7. I cannot seem to switch off my appetite.
Does that make me greedy?
Sure I love food. I love good food. I’ll also eat crap because it’s there in front of me.
I’ve been to parties where I’ve eaten beforehand and am stuffed, but I’ll still go in picking away at the buffet. Oh, who am I kidding, I stand in line with a plate in my hand and I indulge.
Usually when I’m eating I don’t actually WANT it. Clearly I NEED it. For something other than satisfying my appetite.
I think I am what is known as an emotional eater. You know those people who just can’t eat when they’re upset or stressed or emotional? They just can’t stomach food? I am not one of those people.

8. I make excuses
I haven’t had anything sweet all week/day/hour.
I can’t see good food go to waste.
I hardly ate anything yesterday.
I’m peckish.
I can’t just have a cup of tea.
The packet’s open so we may as well finish them off.
Just the one then . . .

9. I blame everyone but myself
My children are to blame as they made me carry them around inside me for months, increasing my appetite, making me breastfeed, making me crave jam donuts then being so adorable I couldn’t bear to go back to the gym once they were in my life.
My husband is to blame as he is always offering me ice cream, a biscuit or 5 here, a bag of popcorn there.
My job was to blame because I was always so busy I had to eat on the run and then when the hunger pangs kicked in at around 3pm I had to visit the chocolate machine.
My family is to blame because they gave me defective genes.
My tastebuds are to blame because they went down the sweet route and made me desire anything and everything that’s been within breathing distance of sugar. Except Turkish Delight. If you told me I had to live off Turkish Delight, I’d be 10lb lighter in days.

10. I call it dieting.

I have made myself this list because I need to recognise where I am going wrong.
It’s like a food list – once you write if all down it comes as a bit of a shock just how much you are actually eating.

Do any of those ring true with you?

Picture: D Sharon Pruitt

Tara

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Tags: dieting, emotional eating, greedy, weight loss

Should we eat like our children?

by Tara Cain on January 27, 2009
in lifestyle

7 Comments

Today I am not writing about boobs or celebrities or celebrities with big boobs or celebrities who are big boobs.

I was going to write about something different altogether, something inspirational, something radical, something to make your jaw drop (something I’m going to have be pull out of the bag now I’ve made those statements!)

Anyway, that will have to hold because last week I was really intrigued by Dave Fowler’s last post Do You Eat Like A Dog?

Intriged because I sat here reading it thinking ‘yes, yes, yes. That perfectly describes how I used to eat’. And I think we are all guilty of this to some degree.
Whether you’re bolting your dinner down because you have something pressing to do, or because the children are making demands of you, or you know that you’ve got to get the ironing done/watch ER etc and you’ve only got 15 minutes to spare.

How many times have you eaten a meal and not actually tasted it?
Shocking I know when you actually think about it, but I have done this same thing many many times.
I’ve even stood and eaten my dinner from the dish I cooked it in because I didn’t have time to serve it up!

And then I thought, but these things have all been learned. They are in our subconscious and it has almost becomes second nature to do it. As Dave said, you have to actually tell to yourself to slow down.

Watching my two children eat has been a bit of a revelation.
They eat at their own pace. They put their knife and fork down between mouthfuls. They chew and chew and chew. They finish the minute they have had enough.

I think we could all learn something from children.
They are clearly eating the way we used to before we became so busy we started shovelling it in.
They haven’t been tainted by experience. They have no real demands on their time.
And if they’re not hungry they simply won’t eat.

There is a strict rule in this house that ‘treats’ are never allowed between meals and only after you’ve eaten your dinner.
And yes, they always ALWAYS want something, but I can honestly say that many times they don’t actually eat it because they are full up.

That’s how I want to be.

So today I spent the whole day with my 3-year-old daughter and watched her. Really watched her.
We ate breakfast together and I finished way ahead of her.
We ate lunch and I tried to slow right down to match her pace.
And we ate tea when we were hungry and it lasted aaaages. But we chatted and joked ad it was actually kinda fun.

From now on my aim is to eat food for a. fuel and b. to enjoy it.
And tomorrow night the food fest begins with Hungarian goulash. Yum!

Tags: children, eating, meal

Do You Eat Like A Dog?

by David Fowler on January 22, 2009
in lifestyle

30 Comments

I was watching my dogs eat their food and noticed how they just bolted it down. It looked as though the food barely touched the sides. They were finished almost as soon as they’d started.

Picture: timtimes

It reminded me of my youth when I was able to drink a pint in three seconds flat. It was my claim to fame and really impressed the girls…. almost as much as my ability to burp very loudly! I was quite the babe magnet! Oh yes!

Anyway, having seen the dogs eat their dinner in this fashion I got to thinking about the way I eat my own food.

I wondered why I have to take in such big mouthfuls of food, barely chew it before swallowing it and then stuffing the next mouthful in.

This type of eating is something I associate most with going to one of the many outlets of Burger Shack. I get my burger, sit down unwrap it from the wax paper and set it down long enough to watch the melting cheese and relish slide down onto the wrapper along with a slice of juicy tomato. As the aroma drifts up to hit my nose I reach for the thing and take a massive bite, and then another and another until it’s all gone. I can’t help it though. Food like that can’t be eaten daintily, it has to be devoured.

That being the case, I’ve stopped eating burgers. It’s over too quickly and maybe only five percent of the taste ever hits my taste buds. What a waste.

So can I train myself to eat more slowly?

Well, I’m trying to do exactly that at the moment.

Meal times with the children are not always enjoyable events during which I can sit down, relax and enjoy the food. Meal times are often hard work with the children all needing some level of attention. The smaller children need to be convinced to eat and the older children want to argue and throw strops.

I find myself bolting my food down just to make sure I get to eat.

Yesterday evening I decided to eat smaller mouthfuls of food and to chew them slowly and deliberately. I found myself conscious of the tastes and combinations of flavours. I started experimenting with different combinations of taste and I savoured each mouthful.

It took me longer to eat my meal but I enjoyed it so much more. The extra time also gave my belly time to tell my brain it was full. I didn’t manage to finish what was on my plate but I was satisfied.

I’m definitely going to try this again. But not at Burger Shack. I simply haven’t got the will power.

So here’s what I’d love to know:

Why do we bolt our food?

Do you have any tips to slow me down?

Are you impressed that I can drink a pint in three seconds?

Tags: burgers, dogs, eating quickly

Are you really a size 12/14/16/18?

by Tara Cain on January 13, 2009
in celebrity, lifestyle

42 Comments

This is a subject that really winds me up.

How can I go into one shop and fit comfortably into a pair of size 12 jeans and yet I go into the shop next door and I can bearly negotiate the waistband over my thighs?
What, did I put on half a stone walking from one shop to the next?
Did some fat genie manage to slap a couple of layers of blubber around my waistline when I wasn’t looking?

I cannot fathom why High Street shops haven’t cottoned on to this before now: when a woman comes into your store and finds her usual size only fits a waif-like teen with no bust and minimal curves SHE WILL HATE YOUR STORE FOREVER!

It is a fact of life that women seem to be governed by their clothes size.
Celebrities seem to covet that holy grail of the American size zero and if some minor star is being interviewed in a magazine about their “amazing weight loss” the first thing you’re told is how they went from “a hefty size 14, down to a super slim 10″.

A hefty size 14? That is going to make everyone who is a 14 or above feel like the size of a cow.

And if you’re naturally a UK size 8 or below you’re labelled ‘annorexic’, ‘unwell’ or (this was once levelled at a perfectly healthy but very slim woman I did a feature on in my former life as a features editor) ‘a f***ing disgrace’.

Hmm, I’ve gone off the boil on a bit of a rant there.

So, imagine you’re in a shop looking for a pair of jeans and you’re usually a size 14.
You try their size 14s on and they’re so tight you’re having trouble doing them up. Then – oh no – you can’t actually get them off again.
After struggling, breaking a nail, going all red in the face and then catching your reflection in the mirror do you go back out into the store and get a size 16?
Do you buffalo – you stalk out of that store swearing you’ll never shop there again because there is “no bloody way I’m a size 16!”

Yes, I KNOW it’s ridiculous and you should just buy the size that fits and what does it matter if it’s a 6 or a 16? I know there will be men reading this and thinking ‘what the?’.
But it’s Woman Nature. We know it’s ridiculous but psychologically we buy into the fact that we must fit a certain size and we WILL NOT venture out the other side of it.

All of which is my way of telling you that my clothes are a little looser. And I have had to start wearing a belt with my work trousers. And it makes me want to jump up and down a lot.
It has made me SO tempted to run out and buy buy buy something new. But I just know that I’ll get all disheartened and probably be rude to someone in the fitting rooms and then get upset and come home and eat a chocolate digestive. Or seven.

So instead, I emptied the contents of my wardrobe onto my bed and sorted it out into 3 sections:

1. Stuff I can wear now

2. Stuff I can wear in the very near future

3. Stuff that when I can wear it I will post of picture of me on here in just my underwear.

NOTE: Those trousers in the picture were my pulling trousers. In my pre-married days, those trousers did me proud. I loved them so much I had two pairs! I wore them on my hen night (not as pulling trousers, obviously!) and now they just sit there in my wardrobe as a grim reminder of, well, of how hot I used to be!

I want to wear those trousers again!

Tara

Tags: clothes, fashion, shopping, size zero

When your bust size hinders attempts to get fit

by Tara Cain on January 6, 2009
in lifestyle

59 Comments

I am sorry if I offend anyone with the following post, but it is something close to my heart and I need to get it off my chest – literally.

I am going to talk about bust size. My bust size.

I have put that sentence in bold italics so anyone who may find themselves upset about talk of large bras and boob pain can leave right now . . .
I am top heavy. Always have been.
Even in my slimmer pre-children days I was in a C cup, which for any guys out there who don’t know, it’s comfortably a large handful.

Now I am carrying extra weight, I am very top heavy.
I have gone up to an E cup. I flirted with D, then on to DD, then stopping off at the over-shoulder-boulder-holder E.
Of course, my husband thinks this is “bloody great. That is what cleveage is supposed to be like”.
But I HATE it.
“Think of all those women who pay to have a big bust,” he reasons.
“But they haven’t the first idea of how it feels and I bet you they’re bloody miserable after it’s done,” I reply.

First of all, having a larger bust means I look heavier than I actually am.

It also makes clothes buying a nightmare. How many shirts have I tried on that fit great but the buttons are straining to meet over my bra? Dresses are a no no unless I want to look like I’m on the game.

Then there is the fact that I feel like they are my face. Seriously, at work I had to remind a couple of guys that my eyes were in fact slightly north of where they were looking.

And finally, and most importantly here, they bloody hurt when I get physical. No, not THAT physical, I’m talking about when I’m running or jumping or taking up a slight jog (which is sort of why I took up walking instead).

Can you imagine what a nightmare jogging has become? I have to wear two sports bras to keep these babies under control.

I went through a stage thinking it must just be me. ‘Bloody hell’, everyone is thinking, ‘if that’s all you’ve got to moan about then I’d much rather be in your shoes’. But then a good friend of mine confessed she feels exactly the same (hello Michelle!) and I felt almost vindicated.

I know, I know, it’s all funny and you’re all going to think of jokes that use the words ‘uplifting’ but for me it has become a motivating factor.

Last week David Wright asked what our motivators were and I banged on about my health and my kids and my vanity. But then I stopped and thought about it and do you know what, I want to reduce the size of my bust to pre-baby size. Manageable size. A size that will fit back into the rather gorgeous underwear husband used to buy for me (which he doesn’t now because it’s usually met with a snort and a ’you don’t honestly think I’ll fit in there do you?’)

Weight gain and loss, coupled with babies and breastfeeding can play havoc with a girl’s boobage, so I know I am very lucky to have maintained a pair that don’t need to be tucked into my waistband or can sweep the carpet (as four-time mum Ulrika Jonsson apparently announced on Celebrity Big Brother this week!)

I suppose it’s the same for all of us – men or women – we don’t just want to look good, we want to feel good too.
Well, I don’t feel good with a pair of Es right under my nose. I want my little Cs back.

And yes, those are my very own bras in the photo. And no I cannot fit into most of them. I keep them ‘just in case’ and to remind me what I am aiming for.

NOTE: An update on the keep fit equipment I bought to aid my New Year, New Me approach.
The pedometer was a huge hit – with my 6-year-old son. When I get it back off him (he thinks it’s the best thing EVER and jogs around the house trying to beat the ‘high score’ of 10,000) I’ll let you know how many steps I’m achieving!

Tags: bra, bust size, pedometer

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Picture: D Sharon Pruitt

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Should we eat like our children?

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Are you really a size 12/14/16/18?

Tara

When your bust size hinders attempts to get fit

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