Body Crisis...

I've left it a while since my last post because I have been struggling recently with my body-image. I cannot help but compare myself to others everywhere I go (but especially the gym) and I am often tormented with thought of "if only" and "why can't I be like that?"

The big issue is my stomach - especially last week when I had terrible bloating. This is a recurring problem that plagues me on and off, but it hadn't been this bad for a while. I don't mean "a little trapped wind" - it feels as though a balloon has been inflated inside me and my stomach becomes hideously swollen - just like this example.  It would be upsetting and uncomfortable for anyone but with my deep-rooted insecurities, it is especially distressing. I try to tell myself that it is just gas and not fat, that it doesn't mean that I am greedy...but it is hard. I can't even bear to look at myself and eating is the last thing I feel like doing.  I dream of being like those other girls in the gym, with taut abs and rippling six packs.

At it's worst it makes me despise my body and want to tear out my stomach with a knife. Or to die and finally be free of this revulsive prison.

But I have been fortunate enough to receive good advice from friends, the internet and even an "anti-bloat" special article in The Metro(!). I wish there was a simple quick fix, but it seems that a holistic approach that incorporates my whole diet and habits is the only way. Things have been a lot better so far this week but this could be due to any or all of the following: avoiding gum, not eating cabbage, doing special "tummy exercises", no fizzy water, trying to increase my fibre intake, more sleep...etc.!

Body Crisis...will I never be free of these tormenting thoughts?

 As for my legs...they still look much bigger than those of most ladies in the gym. But when Anna starts to whisper Big fat legs...Big FAT LEGS.... I remember my time in the Lake District, of climbing up those summits. They might be fat but they are mountain climbers! I whip back at her. So far, she hasn't come up with anything against that.

Meanwhile, there is a noticeable change in my arms - instead of looking concave and "pinched in", they are starting to show some flesh and round out a little. Surprisingly, this doesn't upset me as it might have done - simply because I can equate the change in appearance to having more power! The resistance training is paying off: as an example, I started with only 5kg on the chest press but now I am up to 17.5 kg. And I have found that I like the feeling of being able to manage things more easily, whether it is carrying my shopping, bell ringing, opening the heavy doors at college or doing press ups.

Perhaps the first stage isn't to fix my body, but to fix my mind and just find peace with who God made me to be.

But as for my mind...I hate the way food still dominates my thoughts so much. If I were an alcoholic, I could swear to stay away from the stuff, hide it under lock and key and never think of it again. But the need for food is constant and comes round every day; it rears its head in every social occasion. I feel guilty for thinking about it, feel guilty for enjoying it...even though it is a reward earned through hard exercise.

What should a person wish for above all for themselves? Money? Fame? Prosperity? Health?
What about that most blessed and elusive thing ...inner peace. I have a long way to go.

A final point - I have been writing up some of my back story and you can find it on the menu to the right of this page. This isn't a narcissist gesture - I certainly don't think my "life story" is worthy of anyone's time to read, and there are much worse histories of anorexia available online. Rather, I needed to straighten things out in my own mind as I realised that I have blanked out the more painful episodes so forcefully that the order of events keeps getting muddled in my mind. So I had to hash it all out for myself. But if you are curious to read it for yourself, you are very welcome to!

Have a good week - whatever our changeable weather throws at us!

A deciding week....and a small measure of victory

After exerting myself so much during my trip to the Lakes two weeks ago, I was positive that I would have gained something during this past (rather less active) week. But when I checked today there was no change. I still have a fair few pounds to gain within two weeks.

Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised: now the adrenaline has worn off, my appetite has diminished with it. But now it really IS crunch time. If I haven't made any measurable progress by this time next week, my PhD could really be in doubt. So it's back to the drawing board, pushing more calories into my meals and trying to cut back on the gym. It doesn't help that I experience such bitter conflicts in my mind. I feel tremendous guilt at times for eating processed/'junk' foods, even though I limit these to treats. Most of my meals are quite plain, with no sauces, dressings or condiments - and based on stereotypical 'diet food'. The other day I managed to have three different kinds of cabbage with my dinner without planning to - Chinese cabbage, red cabbage and sauerkraut (white cabbage). Not exactly the fast-train to weight-gain...

I really want to end my job at the college soon as it makes me very depressed, especially as it is nearly the end of term and there are so few lessons on. I had wanted to hand in my notice next week but I will only be able to do this if I make demonstrable progress during this week.

I have also been feeling very down about my body shape, especially my stomach which I see as hideously distended and bloated. Going to the gym is becoming ever more painful: I can't help but compare myself to the instructors with their toned and sculpted tummies. But I have had a minor victory in my exercise regime. I knew I was becoming too obsessed with the calorie counter on the spin bikes, so much so that I would stay behind after the lesson, pedalling away until the counter passed the value from last time. These 'add-ons' were becoming longer and longer, meaning I usually didn't cool down afterwards and got very upset if I wasn't "trying hard enough".

Bane of my life - how to ignore those calories?

But then the bike that I always, always used broke and I was forced to change. And of course - ALL THE BIKES ARE DIFFERENT! The resistance varies between each one so the calorie counters all give different values for the same amount of work. I was getting very distressed about this, trying out all the different bikes, trying to find "the one" when something just snapped. I'm fed up with this - I'm just not going to count any more! After all, the former bikes didn't even HAVE a calorie counter- I just went by feel and the amount I sweated out! But how to ignore it when it was there, glaring at me?

Solution - it just happens that the elastic strap on the locker keys fits snugly round the spin bike dashboard, meaning I can conceal the calorie number whilst still keeping an eye on my revs and the clock. This might seem like an entry for the Journal of Incredibly Insignificant Doings but it is a real achievement for me to "let go" of this compulsion and I already feel a lot happier when I go to the classes.

Solution: Cover it with the locker key strap!

Of course, I am still dodging the real issue here, which is my unhealthy obsession with exercise itself. But I feel that is only a demon I will be able to face once I get to my target. Emotionally, I only have so much strength so I have to focus on one goal at a time.

Thanks for reading, I hope you have a good week!

PS. I have started to write up the "Backstory" to how I got here, with all my baggage of negative behaviours and habits. You can find it on the pages listed to the right of you are interested.

On top of the world! (or at least a LOT of Wainwrights...)

Why is it when you stop that everything starts to hurt? I wondered, sitting on the grassy bank at YHA Langdale yesterday at the end of an incredible four-day journey.

When I set out from that very hostel on the Tuesday before, I had felt very tense inside about the challenge ahead. My pack dug heavily into my shoulders - would I really be able to heave all this weight over the fells? But the sun was shining and the expansive views going up Fairfield and Helvellyn simply took my breath away. It was only when I had to descend the notorious Striding Edge that things got a bit hairy. I normally love a bit of scrambling but carrying so much on my back made me much less manoeuvrable and I took a fall on the loose scree. I was lucky to come away with only cuts and bruises and made it to YHA Glenridding that night.

Awesome views going up towards Fairfield

Next morning, the world had completely changed: the cloud was low and the wind was up, shrouding the hills in rolling mists. Even if the weather was clear, I had a difficult day ahead: after climbing back up Helvellyn, I then had to make my way along the ridge before taking a bearing to get down a loose scree slope and find the path to Keswick. Even in clear conditions, it would be difficult but in a whiteout it would be near impossible.

Making my way up Swirral Edge was an ethereal experience. In the thick cloud, I couldn't see more than ten metres in front and the rocks were treacherously slippery from the drizzle.  The higher I climbed, the stronger the wind blew, forcing me off balance and battering me with my map case. Just keep going UP I told myself, trying not to think of the sheer drop that lay unseen on both sides.  I had no idea how far I had left to climb until I practically walked into the trig point on the summit. Barely able to stand against the gale, I crawled into the refuge to get out of the wind. What now? Getting up was the easy part. There was no way I could make my way across the ridge in these conditions.

Grisdale Tarn, near Helvellyn

Crouched there in the middle of the storm, I had never felt so lost and alone. No one knew where I was at that moment - if anything happened to me, it could be an age before anyone found me. God please help me to get off this mountain safely! I prayed earnestly. Opening my eyes, I saw a man emerge out of the fog. What he was doing on the top of Helvellyn in these conditions, I cannot say. He came and sat next to me and agreed that it would be too risky for me to attempt the ridge. He led me down the mountainside through the storm until we finally came out below the clouds and I could see the track to Thirlmere. Then he simply vanished as quickly as he came. To this day, I still wonder  if he was an angel in disguise.,.

After amending my route slightly, I made it to the YHA at Keswick. After the utter isolation of Glenridding, it was good to be able to shop for new supplies. The next day, the weather had reverted back to glorious sunshine and I had a superfluous day, drinking in the views from Catbells, High Spy and Dale Head. Even more wonderfully, my extended family came out to meet me on the descent to YHA Borrowdale. The last day was a killer though - around 15 miles and ? Ascents - . It was daunting - but then the adrenaline took hold of me, propelling me over Glaramara, Esk Pike, Crinkle Crags and finally the Pike of Blisco where I stopped for a breather to watch the parascenders. But when I started on the final stretch back to the start at YHA Langdale, the fatigue started to kick in. I never knew feet could ache so much!

Going up Catbells

Amazingly, I managed to complete the walk. Perhaps those hours in the gym weren't a waste after all?! And now that I have tasted the 'Big Fells', I am hungry for more. It feels as though a whole new world of possibilities has opened up. Despite years of abuse from me, my body kept giving and answering when I asked it for more. For once, we felt like a team, working towards a shared goal instead of driven apart by the demon of anorexia.

On Bowfell with Scafell Pike in the background

Crucially, I didn't lose much (if any) weight during the trip (adrenaline does give you an appetite, especially for trail mix!). And it was so refreshing to break my tight routines and have a healthier relationship around food. One of the things I will miss the most is how simple life was for those days - eat, walk, eat, walk, shower, eat, bed -  repeat! No barrage of emails, no competing demands flying in head, not even any to-do lists...just fresh air, bird song and mountains. It has made me realise that I need to slim my life down and make it less complicated...and keep up this habit of early nights!

So overall, things look good for my big challenge in August. But I still have to make my weight target to get back to my PhD. It's not over yet....

Thanks for reading ! :))