Chickafinty ~ A Life in the Laundry

Oh, my aching shins!

I've been out walking with the kids every day for over a week, but apparently I have been overdoing it.  I have flat feet which can make walking uncomfortable at the best of times and sheer agony at the worst.  The sheer agony bit reached a peak on Wednesday when I was actually crying on the walk from the pain (yes, it was that bad).  At one point my legs gave way and I almost ended up doing a beached whale impersonation by the side of the road.  Not a good look.  The kids and I managed to stumble home, and after about an hour and a couple of Panadol I was able to walk again.

It seems the culprit is speed.  If I walk fast, I can manage about 500m before the pain begins.  If I hold the pace down, I can manage more than a kilometer before the shins and heels begin to bite.

So, what's best?  Powering it out for a kilometer and losing control of my lower limbs whilst experiencing mass pain, or steady pace for a couple of kilometers?

Be still my beating heart

Clocked up my 42nd visit to the gym this morning.

Dunno if I have mentioned this before, but I get a bit of special coddling at the gym due to my heart rate.  I normally have tachycardia due to the meds that I am on, and it doesn't take much to get my heart rate up a bit.

By "a bit" I am talking 170+bpm after one circuit of the gym.  This gives the trainers the heebeejeebees as the *most* it is supposed to be at age 40 is about 153bpm.

Last week was very special.  Three gym visits in a row saw the step machine have a spack when I got on it and the little light on the top glowed RED.  G. the manager put her foot down and banned anything but stepping slowly from side to side on the recovery boards in between the equipment.  The recovery boards are supposed to be for maintaining the heart rate, but in my case it increases my heart rate to an unaaceptably high level.

I'm allowed to go gangbusters on the circuit machines, but am not allowed to do anything but this s-l-o-w side step thing on the recovery boards.  My initial reaction was "great...at this rate I'll never lose weight". 

But, colour me surprised if my gym improvement hasn't taken off since I started following G's instructions to the letter.

On Thursday I did exactly as instructed and burned 489 calories in the 30 minute workout.

This morning I did exactly as instructed and burned 513 calories in the 30 minute workout.

OK, so by the end of the second circuit, even with the reduced activity on the recovery boards, my heart rate was over 165bpm and the machine had another spack, which isn't good.   However 165 is less than 175 and I'm prepared to take what I can get.

Just as I always suspected

NOTE:  Jez (you know who you are...) if you are reading this, you might not want to read any further.

In fact, I think you'd better not.  Probably waaaaaaaaaay too much information.  L. can read it though :)

OK, so presuming you're not J. read on:

Mister Bear gave me a gift voucher for Christmas for a certain store that specialises in how shall we say, ummmm, women's undergarments.  I put off using it as I was going to get thin.  Yeah, right.  Like that is *ever* going to happen.  Decided mid last week that I'd stop pfaffing about and take the gift voucher in and spend it.

I've waxed lyrical a few times about how I don't exist in the clothing world, and yesterday I had it confirmed.

In a store that specialises in WU and has WU from one end of the store to the other, in every colour, pattern, shape and style you could possibly imagine, guess how many garments they had in my size.

Go on, guess.

Exactly ONE.

One.  So I bought it.  And in a side note to the flat stomached, lithe, perky-breasted, barely-in her twenties sales assistant, women of a certain age (and certain size) do not need to look in the mirror in the fitting room thank-you-very-much.  Women of a certain age and size have perfected the art of trying on clothes without looking in the mirror.  Unless it is essential.  And mostly, it isn't.

Exit clothing store in tears.  Again. 

Just as I always suspected, I don't exist.

The Rant of Today

Last night A Cuurent Affair featured the Something-Or-Other Fashion Show, and once again touted that there was fashion on display for all shapes and sizes.

I think not.

I can give you a cast iron guarantee that there was not a single item of clothing in that fashion parade for a 5'1" 190 pound 40 year old, let alone an entire outift.

I know this because *no one* makes clothing for people my size and shape.  No one.  Not even the fat lady clothing stores.  I might be able to get a top at those stores, but skirts or pants?  Forget it.

It's ok.  I am resigned to wearing my 10 year old trackies for the remainder of the winter and come the spring I have denin shorts and a couple of denim skirts that fit.  I don't really mind.  I just object to the blanket statements that I know are not true.  They make you feel like a non-person, as in if they have clothing for all shapes and sizes, and none of their clothes fit me, what does that make me?  Not a person.

Evidence for the conspiracy of the thin

<climb on soap box>

I am utterly convinced that there is a world wide conspiracy of the thin against those who are not.  Just listen to the news for a week and make note of the number of news stories that in some way reference the "obesity epidemic".  Not a day goes by without someone...usually a person who looks like a poster child for an international food aid charity...having a go at those who look "different" to them.

Apparently we are all supposed to look the same.  The same that we are supposed to look is gaunt.  The same that we are supposed to look is bony.  The same that we are supposed to look is scrawny.  The same that we are supposed to look is cadaverous.

The measure that these people use to determine whether we are part of the incrowd is the BMI, or body mass index.  This is an objective measure of your weight and height and is supposed to determine how healthy you are.  Big BMI = unhealthy.  Little BMI= allowed to parade down the cat walk (even though it too is supposed to be unhealthy.  It would seem that a little BMI is much more socially acceptable than a big BMI)

I have a very big BMI at the moment and have done for some time now.  It's actually a very, very big BMI and would send the COTT into a frenzy.  Right at this very minute I have a BMI of 34.8.  There it is on record.  I am the first to admit that this is the reverse of good and that I need to do something about it.  I will do something about it.  But I am not going to head in the direction of what the COTT tell me that my BMI should be.  Not a chance. Why?  Because the BMI is not the bee all and end all for healthiness in weight.  According to the BMI tables, the heaviest I can be and still be "healthy" is 60 kilograms - the midline would be 51kg.  Once upon a time and a very, very long time ago, I got my weight down to 62 kilos and I looked fantastic!  I lost another couple of kilos and I began to look a bit on the gaunt side.  62 kilos is a perfect weight for me.  I felt great I looked great and you can shove the BMI tables...well, you know how that finishes :)

And now evidence for the COTT.  Carrie is one of my daily blog reads.  Have been reading Earthmovers and Sandcastles for 6 years.  Carrie has been concentrating on her health and has lost a staggering amount of weight.  She commented yesterday (I think) that according to the BMI she's still classified as being "overweight".  Today she's put a photo up on her blog. If "that's" overweight, then there's no hope for the rest of us.  Carrie looks amazing and she inspires me to really do something concrete.  Carrie, you look terrific and you must feel wonderful, too.

The COTT can just all go jump and take their BMI tables with them.

</climb off soap box>

Slow Progress

My Weight Chart:

Fuller Figure?

Had to buy a bra or two the other day.  My current ones are either too small or the underwire has worked its way out and causes huge pain in the arm pit.  Kmart had a 20% off underwear sale so I decided to take advantage.

Choosing a bra was not difficult but when it came time to pay?  Well!  Woman scans the bra and the display reads in big capital letters for the entire store to read "FULLER FIGURE".  Why don't they just put "WARNING, WARNING - FAT LADY BUYING UNDERWEAR".

It's discrimination, that's what it is.  If you are (and I beg your pardon right from the get go if you are one of these people) for example, a 10AA, the display doesn't read "WHY BOTHER?" does it.  If you are a 10AA, the screen doesn't read "POINTLESS".  And in fairness it should.   Why should they get away with such a dismissive and rude statement.  They ought to replace FULLER FIGURE with something more appropriate.  RUBENESQUE springs immediately to mind, as does VOLUPTUOUS...they sound quite different to FULLER FIGURE don't they.

And for the record, I am both Rubenesque *and* Voluptuous :)   I am not overweight.  I was just born in the wrong century.  A few hundred years ago my figure would have been seen as a sign of great health and vitality and they would have been falling over themselves to paint me.  So, there!

Fuller figure, indeed.

On the bike

15 minutes/5.0km

15 minutes/5.0km

Portraits Day #1 aka why I can't iron

This is me as is on Satrurday night.  No make up, low maintenance hair and just what ever I happened to have on today.  It is portrait #1 in a series of 31.

Also, yes that is a box of Freddo Frogs on the buffet behind me.  They're respectively (each)...

$1 AUD

41p

.59 Euro

4.42 DKK

and they are to die for.  If you want one, let me know ;)  It's fundraising for Ladybaby's day care centre.

They come in milk chocolate, strawberry filled, peppermint filled and white chocolate as well as caramel filled but those ones are called Caramello Koalas, not Freddo Frogs.

Just kidding :)  But if you really want one, I'll send it lol.

Just in case you're interested...

I'm also here.