By the time that I got back from India after my July vacation, I was blissfully back to my happy (plump) satisfied life. At the gym, I walked on the treadmill or spent half hour on the elliptical. I knew how to use weights and do stomach crunches, from my previous years of experience from various other gyms, and on some days at gym I included these as part of my exercise plan. At home, we cut down on eating at restaurants on the weekends and began cooking healthier meals. We included muesli and oatmeal to our range of regular breakfast cereal.
Except for a few days of the week, I managed to get some form of exercise done. Even if I skipped on the weekdays, I would make it up with long walks on the weekends. Around Navaratri, I even fit into an old silk kurti that I had preserved to try on sometime, even though I was spilling from the seams at one point.
In November, I tried out a few Zumba classes. Even though it was fun at the beginning, I felt drained after an hour of nonstop rhythmic dance moves. The other participants in the class all seemed 20 something’s who could move like Mick Jagger and David Bowie (have you seen these guys dance?). Sometime mid November, my help went to Philippines for a break. That left me with no choice but to walk Maxx, our pet, which was otherwise her job.
Maxx, then a 2 year old energetic Golden Retriever had to be taken, twice a day on long walks and two shorter walks. That was all I seemed to be doing for a fortnight – walking the dog, until the help came back. By end of November I was bored of gym routines – I did not want to walk another step on the treadmill nor climb the elliptical for a 30 minute routine. You see, when you have an outdoor ambience of green, clean and vehicles that drove by without honking (read quiet), you can get used to that.
By December, I sacked my old help and hired new help. That I suspect, may have been the most sensible decision I had taken in a long time, in more ways than one.
Just to allow the new help to settle into routines at home, I began walking Maxx in the mornings again. We had discovered the beautiful Singapore Botanical Gardens. I loved the sights and he loved the smells. It was a win-win situation for the both of us. Walking as an exercise never seemed like a chore anymore! By January, I had begun to proclaim Maxx as my saviour – without him the 5km walk that I clocked every morning wouldn’t have been possible. By February I had begun to monitor portion sizes of the breakfast cereal I made for myself and also stopped sugar free substitutes in my coffee. I was experimenting with exotic salads and soups and even ordering salads when I ate out.
I had decided to give myself 6 months to get fit (read lose weight). Time flies by when you are not achieving much, doesn’t it? It seemed to me like that, then. It was 6 months since I had met with the trainer who indulged in name calling (remember she called me an apple?). In all that time, I was aware that I had to shed some kilos and had taken responsibility to manage it on my own. I had changed some things about my food choices, had upped my cardio vascular workouts, and even tried dancing for Chrissakes. I was feeling good, cheerful, happy and even fit, psychologically.
On the bathroom scales, however, the needle just refused to budge! I had not lost an ounce of weight. (The ease of fit into the old kurti seemed more like an inch lose around my girth and not weight loss). To say I was disappointed would be mild. I was devastated! I was beginning to loose sleep over it. What really pushed me to do something drastic about the situation was a remark from my husband who said casually one evening, “I think you should lose weight”.
Watch this space to read what happened next. My fourth post in this journey is here.