On location....coping with a conference

One of the best things about a career in science is the opportunity to travel - for field work, to visit other labs, to share knowledge at conferences etc. Right now, I am in Brighton for the Annual Meeting of the Society for Experimental Biology. I have been invited as an official 'science reporter', to scout round the different sessions for interesting stories for the society's Bulletin Magazine. A week of being immersed in exciting new research, meeting fascinating people, networking, public engagement...it should be the dream.

 So why does my first thought have to be How am I going to cope with the FOOD?!

It's hard to remember back to when I could go away completely spontaneously without giving the catering a second thought. But now, whether  it is for a day workshop, a visit home, a holiday abroad...the food arrangements are always a source of worry. I veer between wanting to bring EVERYTHING with me including the kitchen sink, and  wishing I could just turn up and accept whatever is on offer - like everyone else!

The main problem is my refusal to eat so many foods - pasta, rice, bread, potatoes, noodles - any starchy carbs in other words! As I am being put up in a rather nice hotel, I'm not too worried about breakfast; it's sure it be a better offering than toast and cereal. But lunch is always a minefield - will it just be rows and rows of polystyrene-like sandwiches? Will there be a TESCO nearby where I could nip out for a salad? Meanwhile, what to do for the evening meals? Unfortunately, avoidance has to be my strategy when it comes to formal dinners. Who knows what ideas and conversations I will sacrifice just because I couldn't face the food?

This time, I have adopted a compromise and bought a very select range of supplies, including fruit, a lettuce and some 'safe' ( calorie controlled) treats to help me avoid the dessert table.  I hate being confronted with buffet tables groaning with sweet treats - all mocking me because I can't help myself with cheerful abandon. If I go over the limit I set myself...guilt guilt guilt ensues. 

As for exercise...well, wouldn't it have been nice to have had a week off the gym, so that I could focus purely on my task with all my energy? But no. I still can't quite make that jump of going so long without exercise. My workout gear is in my bag, and I have been assured by the website that the hotel has a reasonable gym. As long as I am up at six, I should be able to fit in a workout before the breakfast meeting...and then a long , busy, tiring day on my feet that stretches into the evening. Why do I have to make things so much harder than they have to be?

Will I have this for all of my life?! Will I ever be able to go away without worrying about working out or eating?! This makes me feel unforgivably preoccupied with food - a greedy person that doesn't act 'normally'. But then again, recovering anorexics aren't the only people who might get anxious about uncertain catering arrangements. Those with allergies, fussy children, special nutrition requirements or who follow very particular diets ( such as the Paleo diet) may very well bring some supplies with them. So where does one draw the line between 'eating disorder' and 'taking a greater interest in their food'? Am I really so very different to someone who brings their own tea bags or coffee because 'the hotel stuff tastes rubbish'?

It wouldn't  seem much of an issue except I still have over a kilogram to gain to meet my target weight. And if I am not there by my next doctors appointment, things do not look good. 

I will let you know how I get on. Wish me luck and Thank You for reading!

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 ! :))

Best foot forward....

It's challenge time! This week I am heading off to the Lake District with the aim of covering 50 miles and 24 mountains in four days. Along the way, I will be staying at the YHAs at Langdale, Helvellyn, Keswick and Borrowdale, and also with my lovely extended family in Windermere. My route is based on a walk featured in the YHA's magazine, The Wanderer (see photo below).

It should give me a good indication of whether I have a chance of completing the 80-mile White Peak Way in August. But it will also push me out of my comfort zone in other ways. Will I be able to cope with going so long without any intensive sessions at the gym? Will I be able to stand up to the inevitable gales and freezing temperatures of exposed summits? And what about that dreaded subject - the food.

My route may feature oodles of Wainwrights, but it doesn't pass by many shops! It may be that I will have to eat foods which I normally avoid. I can only pack what I can carry so will have to be strategic and include some high-calorie options. Given that I am still a little off from my target, I have to be sure that, not only do I maintain weight, but I actually put some on as well. This may be difficult as I have no idea how many calories I will use. To me, walking just doesn't compare with blasting through an hour's spin or cardio HIIT session. But ask me after the first 20 miles and I may have changed my mind!

It would be quite an achievement though, if I could just arrive at the next hostel, after a glorious day on the fells, and happily choose something off the menu like a normal person. No worrying about rich sauces, no asking to go "potatoless", no hiding the pudding menu before I can see it and be "tempted". I know I used to be able to do this when I was a child...but it's been far, far too long.

Fingers crossed for good weather! I will let you know how I managed when I return - I'm off to the land of no WIFI!

A milestone at last! (so why can't I be happy?!)

Every time I go to work, I board a tram bound for a place called (rather romantically I think!) as "Halfway". And now I have finally arrived there myself.

I am past halfway towards my target weight for getting back onto my PhD course! And given that I initially spent a lot of time going backwards at first, it becomes even more of an achievement. I am already feeling the benefits: at my last weight-training session, I was able to move up to a heavier weight for three of my exercises and I have been hitting higher speeds on the spin bikes too. Even outside the gym, I generally feel more powerful, more present and more alive.

So it's excellent news! Why then am I not dancing on air? Instead, why has my mood been so wretched for the past few weeks? I don't like to use the word "depression" as I feel this term gets bandied about too easily - there is a real distinction between clinical depression and "feeling a bit down". But when you feel so overwhelmed with sadness that you literally stop dead in the middle of the street and burst into tears, then something is clearly wrong. It embarrasses me when I get upset in front of others (and I thank the three strangers who kindly escorted me home), but I am so tired and drained and worn out all the time that I simply cannot hold it all in any more. Just one of the many, many things 'Anna' has robbed me of is a stiff upper lip!

I've also been having a bit of a body crises. My stomach still gives me grief at times, becoming so bloated and filled with gas that I wish I could take a knife and rip it out of my chest. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it - although perhaps that tin of rice pudding was a bad idea.... I oscillate between getting fired up about the latest natural remedy - probiotics? turmeric? sauerkraut? - and just feeling resigned to being plagued by it for life.

It makes me feel fat, ugly and grossly distorted. Everywhere I go, I see people who are thinner than me and the gym seems to be populated by lithe figures with gazelle legs. Surely all these people weigh less than me?! So why are they able to go to university and do all they want to do and I can't? Surely it can't be true? Is it all in my head? I don't know anymore - I can't tell what's real and what's fiction - what is truth and what is a lie whispered by 'Anna'.

I'm sorry to end on such a miserable note. But I promise a more upbeat post soon, when I will be outlining my challenge for next week. Five whole days away from the gym: instead, I will be in the Lake District for my training walk for the big trek in August. Just hoping I haven't bitten off more than I can chew...

Thanks for reading, enjoy the rest of this week!

Bumps in the journey

Since the 'epiphany moment' of my last post, I'm afraid things haven't continued quite as smoothly as you might have hoped. At first things looked promising - I made a real effort to increase my calorie load and I did manage to gain some weight. And rather than planning and calorie-counting all my meals in advance, it was wonderful to do this intuitively by listening to the rhythms of my appetite and adding more when my body gave me hunger. Frustratingly, this never seems to follow any logical pattern: at times when I really ought to be hungry, I'm often not and at other times I eat a good meal only to feel even more hungry afterwards!

But then I pushed things too far by introducing foods which I know my stomach struggles to handle. Either a bowl of cereal or a pack of spicy mushrooms put my stomach out of sorts and I felt sick, miserable and bloated for days. Eating was the last thing I felt I should do and my calorie intake slipped a bit. So it looks as though curries and Wheatabix may forever be off my shopping list....

Finding out just how much a pound or two weighs in the Victorian kitchen at Charlecote Park

Fortunately it had mostly cleared up by the time I travelled back to the West Midlands on Thursday to spend the weekend with my parents. But this started disastrously when, stupefied with fatigue from sleep deprivation, I struggled to choose a meal from the Chinese takeaway menu. This really upset my parents, especially my Dad, as they saw this as proof that nothing had changed: I was still the awkward, anorexic daughter who couldn't eat a normal meal with her family. In this fraught exchange, I realised how scared they were that my positive words were only that: words and no more. I can't really blame them, after all they have watched me 'start a new chapter of my life' many times before only for me to relapse again. Quite understandably, they carry real doubt that I will succeed and make it back to my PhD on time. 

Things could have gone downhill from here, but I managed to turn it around. At least our altercation made me realise that there was NO WAY I could do any exercise at home without racking the tension up sky high. So my workout gear stayed in my bag and I didn't even set the alarm. In fact, the weekend felt horrifically lazy given the gently nature of the activities we did together; a trip the cinema, wandering round a National Trust Property, visiting neighbours. I did have some guilty thoughts ('Oh gosh, right now I would be at circuits class!') but remembering the disbelief on my parent's faces spurred me on. Even when I cheered my Dad on in the local Fun Run and was confronted with the sight of hundreds of runners, I managed to keep myself from joining in!

Apparently this is a family tradition...my Dad used to come to Henley Ice Parlour as a boy

Altogether the visit could have been better, but it could have been a lot lot worse. I wish I could stop my family, and all those who are good enough to care about me, from worrying overnight but I know there is only one way I can do this. I have to keep pressing on no matter how I feel: only when I reach my target will I have earned the right to rest. 

And time is getting critical now. Time to press on.

A new body and a new mind...

Everything is different now.

For those of you who read this blog regularly (big thank you! ), this may very well be the post that you have been waiting for, 

I finally feel ready to change, ready to walk away from anoreixa and into a different life. Ready to let go and trust my body and love it for what it is, or what it is meant to be.

A lot of things have been leading up to this moment. All the people praying and hoping for me, the growing realisation that my choices do affect and hurt others, the internal gathering of everything I have read, every word of advice, every encouragement from all the people who have cared enough to get in touch.... But the crunch point came when I stepped on the scales yesterday morning.

Despite eating 'gargantuan' amounts for the past week, I hadn't gained anything.

In fact, according to my therapist, I had actually lost a little weight. In that moment, my PhD seemed to take a huge step even further away from me and something just snapped. Suddenly, counting calories just didn't seem important any more. But starting to live in a way that doesn't make those I love worry about me did. I don't want this any more. There will be no more weighing, checking food labels, measuring out, fretting. No more attitude of "Dear body you can have this many calories and no more for I must dictate control". I want to eat like I used to do as a child - intuitively, listening and responding to my body's needs. From now on, I will only use my scales when I bake cakes.

But of course, for the time being, it is still important for me to monitor my intake, if I am going to reach my target. Which begs the question: why did I lose weight? However, I'm pretty sure I have the answer to this one. All I have lost is water weight. From all the stories of recovery I have come across online, this is to be expected and it is a positive stage in recovery, one which precedes real gains. My distended stomach and bloated legs were not just in my imagination. Even before I weighed myself, I had noticed that I was noticeably leaner.

Pushing them out!

And I love it. I LOVE my new body - I feel so much more powerful and alive. I feel like I have a presence of my own again rather than being just a shadow. I am now addicted to feeling POWERFUL instead of hungry. And I am already feeling the benefits - I used to have to do press ups on my knees, but now I am on my toes. At my weights session this evening, I was able to push out more repetitions on the higher weights. It doesn't take me so long to get home from the tram stop - I pick up my feet instead of dragging them. I am determined that this is only the beginning of better things to come.

But don't get me wrong - it won't be plain sailing. 'Anna' still has a home in my mind, until I can evict her for good and clean up her mess. Meanwhile, I have a deadline to meet and I am not even halfway.

It looks as though it will be a fight to the finish, but at least my body and I are now on the same side.

Thank you for reading! :)

Going right to the wire...?

My emotions seem to have been as mixed as the weather this week. At times, I have felt stuffed, sick and bloated, despising myself and wishing I never had to eat again. These are the days when my stomach struggles to cope and balloons up uncomfortably with excess gas. But when this has finally calmed down, I have sometimes felt so different: stronger, more alive even slightly well. Chronic tiredness remains a problem (still working on getting to bed earlier) but the other day I simply powered up the hill to my home in record time. In these moments, I feel as though I stand upon the earth, rather than simply slump upon its surface.

Yet I am still dragging myself to the gym, with all the air of the condemned man walking to the gallows. Once there, I can't help comparing my shape to other people and looking at my "big fat legs" in distaste. On a more positive note, I am having fewer tearful breakdowns. The staff at the gym have been wonderful in supporting me - usually, just having someone to talk to while I do my weights is enough to take my mind off my inner turmoil and get through the session. I'm still waiting to see that massive improvement in strength in my puny arms but certain movements - press ups, planks - seem to be coming more easily!

Finally back on Kinder Scout

Last weekend, I even got out to the Peak District with my dad for a walk up Kinder Scout. I was pleased with how I managed the ascent but unfortunately I had forgotten just how windy it gets up there - there is a reason, after all, that there are so many weird rock formations up there! One of the hallmarks of anorexia is that sufferers struggle to keep warm and my hands are especially sensitive to this. Once I can't feel my fingers, I get very miserable and it takes me an age to thaw out. I need to have a serious think about how I can manage this when I attempt my walk in August...

The next time I check my weight will be a crucial point: I will only have one month left to reach my target. If I have not reached the half-way point by then, the pace will need to increase and fast. I can't afford to miss the target or I will lose my PhD, but I don't know if I am capable of eating any more than I am already, especially with my weakened stomach. But will I have the mental strength to give up my heavy-cardio exercise sessions - the hour long spin classes, the circuit training, the cross trainer?

It looks as though, rather than arrive comfortably in time, I am fated to be pushing it right to the wire. It's time to get a move on.

Thanks for reading, enjoy the Bank Holiday!

All change again! (But it's the last time I promise...)

I hope you have all been enjoying the recent sunshine: it's a shame Easter didn't fall this week! However, it is not just the beautiful weather that is giving me such optimism at the moment. I am still making progress on my weight target, inching up towards halfway. Even my therapist at the ED clinic had to agree. This week we had our shortest session ever as her advice was simply to "keep on with the plan".

But I only wish that this progress had started three months ago. It would have given me a little more leeway in case things start to plateau later. I'm still going up against the wire and can't afford to slacken the pace for a second.

Still, at least things are (finally) going in the right direction. I am feeling less desperate and hopeless, and am finally having more peace in my mind. It is a clichéd paradox in the ED world that it gets easier to challenge the negative thoughts as you start to put on weight - but that black voice makes it so hard to do just that! Yet it seems to be true for me. As the scales tip upwards, I am finding the mental strength to say "Shut up Anna" when she would make me feel guilty, bloated, sick and miserable. I still feel bad that so much of my life seems to be about eating and that I am having so many calorie-dense foods at the moment. Yet I do feel more able to justify this. I tell myself:

- This food is my ticket back to my PhD. If I don't make the target, I will feel a lot worse about NOT eating this food now than I could by eating it

- This is only temporary! Life can be about other things, once I get to where I should be.

After all, when cancer patients undergo chemotherapy, you would expect their life to be focused around their treatment until it ends. You certainly wouldn't advocate that they approach it half heartedly. But when the course is over, the illness can drop back to being a lesser focus in life insignificant part of life, if any.

Meanwhile, I'm afraid I have to admit that the walk plan has changed again. I have really struggled to "connect the dots" on Offa's Dyke and work out a plan for accommodation (it just wouldn't be feasible for me to try and heft camping gear all that way!). After sending hundreds of emails and only receiving two (negative) replies, I am admitting defeat. But there is also another reason - I was never truly drawn to Offa's Dyke and only chose it as it seemed the logical candidate after I gave up the Pennine Way (for now). What I really wanted was to complete a walk based in the Peak District. So I have chosen (and this is IT now, FINAL ANSWER!) the WHITE PEAK WAY , an 80 mile circuit of the glorious Peaks, with 13,000 ft of ascent. As this is based on the YHA network, accommodation shouldn't be a problem. It should also make it easier for any of my Sheffield-based friends to join me for a section if they so wish! I will be posting details of my planned stages on the "Walk" page on this blog soon so stay tuned.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy the rest of this week.

Feeling the Fear...

I don't like this....I feel so uncomfortable! So huge. That there is so much more of me, it must be spilling out of my frame. Whenever people talk to me, I can't help mentally comparing my shape to theirs and always conclude that I'm so much fatter. I can't bear to look at my legs - gross and elephantine compared to the gazelles in the gym.

This is the part of "recovery" I was dreading - feeling so hideous and miserably bloated that I just want it to end. Only the fact I have to go through this to get back to my PhD is keeping my resolve from crumbling. There is still a strong part of me that just wants to shrink in on myself, until I am just bone on bone, as small and inoffensive as possible. As though, by curling up into as small a ball as possible, I can make all my fears go away.

But I know now that the only way to overcome fear is to face it. I have just started reading Sussan Jeffers' book Feel the Fear and do it anyway, lent to me by a friend. Only two chapters in, I have felt my thinking become clearer. Rather than equipping me with 'secret knowledge' or confidence tricks however, her words have bought to light the truths I always knew deep down, but was too hesitant to acknowledge. Using the book's guidance, I have worked out my three 'Levels of Fear':

Level 1: The surface fears
For me, this is primarily the fear of gaining weight uncontrollably (unless I restrict and exercise obsessively) until I am so overweight that others look down on me and that I feel constantly disgusted with myself. Alongside this, I also have a constant fear of not achievening enough - so that I always feel regret at not having 'done enough' or that I will never 'leave a legacy' when I die. This expresses itself as a fear of not getting a stellar PhD thesis, not getting that dream job....and of course it made me put so much pressure on myself to get into the "right" university.

Level 2: The underlying fear
The all-encompassing fear behind my surface fears is that of failure and rejection. I have always had very black-and-white thinking, so I either totally FAIL at something or somehow (by lucky chance/a fluke) succeed. Hence I FAILED my GCSEs because I only got an A for Music. It is this fear that I will hate myself for not being good enough that feeds all my surface fears and behaviours.

Level 3:
The fear that everyone has deep down and that drives all others - the fear that "I CAN'T HANDLE IT!!" If I gained weight, I wouldn't be able to handle it, If I don't get that dream job, how will I live with myself? If I end up on my death bed regretting all the things I never achieved, how will I cope? It is this simple mantra that holds us back from everything we truly dream of. And yet, looking at the things that I have come through in the past, I know that I CAN handle more than I think I can when I have to. The same is true for all of us - yet we only usually find out when pushed into the unknown by illness, injury, bereavement, unemployment, etc. As a Christian, I believe that God is always with me, that he has promised "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5) and that "When you walk through the fire, I will be with you" (Isiah 43:2). If I can't handle something  on my own, he will give me the strength!

One of the key truths expressed in the book is that our fears of facing change are nothing compared with the fear that comes from doing nothing and feeling so helpless for ever. I understand this so acutely; for instance I live in dread that I will break my leg one day - how then can I keep up the exercise regime I need to do in order to feel safe?

I hope I can push through this barrier and reach that blessed reward of having more freedom with my life. Already I have felt some benefits. I feel STRONGER. And so much FITTER. As though I am held together with real muscle, rather than string that is fraying at the edges. I even almost enjoyed the most intense spin class I do each week and walked away feeling like I had worked hard and well, rather than feeling humiliated and drained.

Yesterday, on my rare "day off" from the gym, I took a trip to the Odeon to see "Eddie the Eagle". Apart from thoroughly enjoying the story, it got me yearning for snowy mountains and wondering if I could ever actually enjoy skiing again rather than it being a battle of endurance against feeling perishingly cold all the time... It would be wonderful to actually DO something with my body rather than cycle for miles and miles within the same square metre of space....

One day....?

I'm not saying I'm about to take up ski jumping, but the world looks more open to possibilities right now!!!!

Thanks for reading - I'll be updating on my physical progress next week

I want my life to be about more than this!!!

I wasn't dreaming last week - my weight has definitely gone up and I had improved even further today. Even my therapist had to admit it. But then she did point out...

"If you're going to get to your target on time then you are still WaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaY off the pace you need to be gaining weight at..."

And so we launched into a convoluted discussion about calorie counts, timeframes and the exercise/no exercise question. I have to admit that, since embarking on this latest plan two weeks ago, I have never quite managed to make the total calorie intake agreed for heavy-exercise days. After all....3500 calories (gulp!!!!) is a LOT to squash in. And when I say "quite", I suppose the shortfall has been more like 300-500 calories...   Not good!

The agreed plan:
No exercise: 3000 kcal a day
Light cardio / weights session: 3250 kcal a day
Heavy cardio: 3500 kcal a day

I still wrestle with the exercise conundrum....can I/ should I do less? Do none whatsoever? Part of me is crying out for rest...and yet I do want to build an active body. I have been feeling better about exercise this week; fitter, stronger and more capable. But I have made a pact : I can ONLY carry on exercising if I make up the calorie amounts I need to gain weight. If I can't eat enough, then I will have to have more rest days.

Meanwhile, despite things improving physically, all is still far from plain sailing in my mind. Anna hates the fact that I have made progress and keeps waving her "Fat", "Greedy" and "Guilty" flags. The worst times are when people hear about my weight gain and say "Oh! I thought you looked..." !! I'm also still plagued by intrusive, obsessive thoughts about food. I hate the fact that I get so much pleasure from flicking through cookery books and food magazines (and playing "Guess which dish has the most calories?"). I hate the fact that I can spend AGES just browsing supermarket shelves before leaving with my usual lettuce and 10 kcal jelly. I HATE the fact that my life just revolves around food, eating, weighing, etc. The Bible says "Be clear-minded so you can pray". I would love to have such focus for my work and for life: to be able to engross myself so fully in something that I forget time passing, forget even to eat! (but then make up for it later!).

I want to have a real, deep think about what my strategy for the long-term is going to be. If I want to live a fulfilling, rewarding LIFE where I can serve others, then food has to have a lesser focus than it does now. The first step will be to not weigh out the dried fruit/nuts I have for breakfast! I have also decided to make a vow that every month I will have a mini-holiday : THREE consecutive days off without exercise. I used to be able to do this all the time -  go away on vacation and not worry about putting on weight; just listen to my hunger cues and trust that my body will ride out the variation in routine. The next time I go away, I don't want to be fretting about not burning enough calories, so I need to practice "trusting" my body before the time comes. You know you've really flipped when you have to "practice" resting!

So with battle lines drawn, let's hope for more progress again next week. Thanks for reading!

I will be posting my "manifesto" for living soon - stay tuned!

Progress ! (but with a price)

It has now been one week since I started the 'new' diet. A diet where I have eaten more than I ever imagined I could ( or would need to), seemingly gargantuan quantities. So much so that it makes me quite depressed at times, seeing how my life has come to revolve around food - weighing it, eating it, checking it, preparing it and planning how to fit it all in.

But has it made a difference?

YES! This morning there was definitely a move in the positive direction on the scales. Not just a slight wobble on the dial, a 'maybe, maybe not' but a definite little shift. There is still a long way to go - I can't afford to out my foot on the brake just yet - but at least I am finally moving onwards and upwards!

It has come at a price however: I seem to constantly oscillate between two very different but both unpleasant  states. At times my body has really struggled with the volume of food it has to process, leaving me feeling sick and hardly able to look at food, making it difficult when it is time to eat yet again. And yet my metabolism has also kicked into gear, meaning that I suddenly go from feeling bloated and blattered to being ravenously hungry. It is as though a fire has  erupted and even if I feed it with more kindling by eating something), the flames only leap up higher and burn more fiercely, leaving me hungrier still. Very annoying!

It is a pain, but I have to remind myself that however bad I feel now, it doesn't compare to how I would feel if I lose my PhD for good.

Unfortunately, I haven't progressed at all on the exercise front, still only managing one complete day off a week. Even when I fell down the stairs leading up to my flat and bruised  my left elbow quite badly, I still went along to circuits that day. Monday evening was another tearful showdown in the changing rooms as my exhausted body fought with the anorexic compulsions ( and lost).  

However, I have felt stronger in my mind and have experienced longer periods of clarity, when I am not disturbed by obtrusive thoughts of food and exercise. I have started to think deeply about who I want to be for the long term, not just during this 'fix it' stage to get back onto my course. At Church this week, the reading was from the book of James, on a verse saying that "he who prays should pray in faith or else he won't receive". The minister explained that this does not mean that anyone who has ever had doubts will not have their prayers answered - because even the best people experience doubts. Rather it is a warning not to be 'double minded' : to say that we trust God and turn to him for help, but then still try to fix it ourselves as well, 'hedging our bets' so to speak. I realised that this is exactly what I do ; as a Christian, I profess that Jesus is the centre of my life and the source of my purpose and joy. However, I still turn to stupid rules about food and exercise like a comfort blanket to make me feel safe and in control. This has. To stop!

More philiosphophical ramblings next time...and hopefully more progress to! Thanks for reading ! 

(Mixed) Easter Blessings...

I hope you have had a very Happy Easter. It's a shame that it seems these days to be less of a religious celebration and more of an excuse for the supermarkets to throw chocolate eggs in our faces, but at least it retains a focus on quality time spent with family.

As such, I made the trip home to see my parents and brother. We didn't get up to anything exciting but shared some happy moments....but there were also inevitable times of tension.Questions starting with "If you can't go back to the PhD..." were aired frequently. I can't blame my parents for doubting that I will make it : after all, saying that I know what I am doing, then following it up with "No roast potatoes for me please" or "I'm just going to use the lounge for some Cardio HIIT training if that's OK?" doesn't really cut it, does it? And then there is my compulsion to adhere to my rigid routines (one of the hallmarks of Anorexia), both in eating and otherwise, which puts me on edge every time I am transplanted from my insular lifestyle. I am so used to being independent and able to dictate my days as I wish that it is always hard for me to be back at home.

However towards the end of my stay, I found the upset to my regimes and the feeling of being under scrutiny less grating and was able to give "family time" the sacred value it deserves...although this then made it difficult to say goodbye !

The sun shone! Enjoying a (calorie counted) treat in the garden

Over Easter I managed to carry on, more or less, with the plan I outlined in my last post. And today's weigh-in showed a "slight increase"! BUT it is not nearly going on fast enough. Meanwhile, I received some very sound advice from a lady who writes possibly the best blog on anorexia, saying that I would need a minimum of 750 calories on top of a maintenance diet (no exercise) to have a chance of making my target in time. I am starting to feel at breaking point, and this, combined with the help from my therapist this morning, has given me the confidence to change my diet plan again.
For now, exercise will still be part of it - agh! I can see you slapping your head at that! But please hear my reasons -
1. Exercise helps me to feel hungry and does make me feel better afterwards.
2. I hope to be active all my life so exercise should be a holistic part of my recovery. During my last relapse, I did have an extended time away from the gym and was then utterly clueless about how to adapt my diet when I started to work out again. Which may be why I am here now...
3.I have to train for Offa's Dyke somehow!

Be assured though that a lot more will be going in on the days I do work out. So much so, that I don't think my stomach will cope with EATING it all and I may have to go the way of liquid supplements / milkshakes. Any suggestions welcome!

Besides this, I am still exhausted from the Big Bang Fair and it was a real trial dragging my case home from the station and I had to keep stopping embarrassingly often. So my other focus at the moment is on getting more sleep and rest. I am finally starting to see the truth in my family's urges to stop taking on more commitments. I also need to work on getting to bed earlier. I do find it hard to shift my patterns forward, especially my meals - the "anorexic voice" tells me that I should only eat when I reach the required level of hunger. So it was liberating to be forced to eat dinner earlier to fit in with my parents over Easter. Now I need to carry on the habit!

Hopefully the next post will report a more refreshed and heavier me....we'll see. Thanks for reading!

Drained to exhaustion...but now it's time to start fighting

I am thoroughly Big Banged Out. Anyone who has experience with small children knows how exhausting they are but multiply that by 70,000….amazingly, I made it through to the other side of the nation's largest Science and Technology fair for young people. But what have the repercussions been?

As I mentioned in my last post, I set myself the challenge of not exercising during my stint of volunteering at the Big Bang Fair, partly because I would have to get up ridiculously early to do it, and also because I knew the work it self would be demanding. After all, you have to walk miles just to get into the NEC, never mind what goes on inside! Nevertheless, separated from my beloved spin bikes, I had expected my weight to creep up a little.

Oh the irony! Teaching people about the science of flavour perception

But there was little chance of this. Each day, I worked almost flat out from 9.30-4.00 pm, barely looking up for four hours at a time as I fought to keep up with the endless queues of children. “Lunch” was a snatched salad and a herbal tea – barely 200 calories if that. All my carefully packed snacks languished in my bag as my usual hunger cues became buried under an onslaught of adrenaline. In one sense, it was truly wonderful to become so utterly absorbed that I forgot food, forgot hunger and became briefly free from intrusive thoughts of sugary snacks or guilt about what I had consumed that day. From the view of personal fulfilment, it was a deeply rewarding experience: there is nothing quite as magical as inspiring young children with something you are passionate about! But from a personal health point of view, it was a disaster zone which should have been roped off with red tape.

Releasing a party popper in slow motion in the BBC Tent

When I returned to Sheffield on Sunday, I was so exhausted that the last stretch to my flat seemed to take forever. Several times I literally stopped dead in the street, staring blankly at my feet until I could persuade them to move again.

So I couldn’t be too surprised to see that there had been no change on the scales this morning.

Learning open heart surgery in the Live Operating Theatre

Which means that, although my only desire is to sleep, sleep, sleep - I must pick myself up and start the real challenge. I have scarcely more than two months to save my PhD. Whilst I stayed with my parents during my time at the BBF, we had several hard talks together and I was forcibly confronted with the fact that I am a continual source of worry for them, and will be until things are drastically different. I realise now that all my “plans” and “changes” so far have been based on the “rules” for healthy people. But now I know that when you are recovering from an eating disorder, all the rules go out of the window. It is no longer a case of any calories going in being used mainly for basal metabolism and any additional physical activity. On the contrary, the body is in a severe deficit with a backlog of repairs to address. I don’t know how much damage, if any, I have on the inside which is preventing me from putting on weight. But as my diet so far hasn’t worked, I have to presume that there is some.

After trawling the internet, I came across some calorie figures. One young lady described how she put on a pound a week on 2,500 calories a day, with no exercise. So for starters, I have to make sure that I am eating that amount every day at least. If I want to carry on exercising, then I will have to eat more on those days to compensate.

Who knew what you could build from newspaper?!

I start this new plan today. It will be tough: this morning I “indulged” in a spin class so I have a bit of a deficit to make up. But the push has to turn to a shove now. It’s the only way I can start to break the grip of this vile and fickle illness. And if this plan still doesn’t work….then I will have to be more drastic still and tear up my gym membership card!

I’ll let you know how this week goes…thanks for sharing it with me.

I will be writing a blog post about my Big Bang Fair experience for my other blog, Science as a Destiny if you are interested!

Banging Around back in Birmingham...

Why do I leave things to the last minute? I hate the feeling of being on an express train hurtling ever faster through the days, with the constant mantra playing through my mind Time Running Out, Time Running Out....

I now have less than two and a half months to put on a stone to make my target weight or I will lose my PhD.

Those words look so frightening... you must wonder why I don't simply GET A MOVE ON ALREADY!!! 

Please understand that back in October, I had NO idea how hard this would be or how long it would take. After all,the pervasive message in society is that it is all too easy to put on weight and that we could all do with losing a few pounds. I feel that anyone would put on weight with the amount I am eating - it's so much volume, I seem to do nothing but eat! But then there are three points which I have come to realise through family, friends and the incredible Internet community:

1. A lot of what I eat is just water and cellulose

2. I do not know how much of a backlog my body has of internal repairs to address before it can put on fat deposits.

3. Even the diet I eat now might be 'restrictive' for the exercise schedule I keep up.

With anorexia, the rules for weight gain go out of the window. All the 'wisdom' I had followed before was based on healthy people, who can say with reasonable accuracy "If I add in 500 extra calories each day on top of my normal diet, I can expect to gain half a pound a week,etc'. But in this condition, the rules go out of the window. I have seen the oft quoted figure that anorexics need 3,000 calories a day to even START gaining weight...and that is with NO EXERCISE WHATSOEVER.

Yesterday, I checked my weight again. STILL no change. 

Something in me is starting to snap. I have felt very depressed at work recently, hating myself for letting this vile, vicious little voice of negativity keep me from doing what I want, doing what I love. WHY do I listen to it??! It does not want me to be happy, it does not wish me well - it mocks me, keeping me in a job washing test tubes and cleaning up bacteria when I could be doing my own research! WHY am I so naive to think that anything good can come out of this??

Will I give up exercise? Will I chuck in another 500 calories? I have to do SOMETHING and soon...

But for this week, I am back at my parents house whilst I volunteer for the Big Bang Science Fair at the NEC. Normally, I would have got up extra early to fit in a cardio HIIT workout before a full day of work giving science demonstrations to endless kids with manic energy. But yesterday's result gave me the imepus to give myself a blanket ban on exercise during this visit. After all, the work itself is exhausting!

I need to take a serious think about what BIG change I will make when I go back to sheffield though. And it HAS TO BE DONE. Or I need to stop telling people that I am halfway through a PhD. 

Phew, one day in and I am already exhausted. But then, I have fitted countless pacemakers today....yes,the organs are real but don't worry - they are from pigs, not people!

Thanks for reading

A update on The Walk...

They do say that time passes more quickly as you get older, but spring has really caught me unawares this year so I am a little behind in planning my big challenge for the summer. But after confronting   some stark realities, I have made a difficult decision.

At 268 miles, with some of the toughest ascent in the country, I think the Penine Way may be a bit more than I can realistically take on. Besides this, the sheer length of the route would make logistics very tricky ( especially as I almost certainly wouldn't be strong enough to carry any camping gear), but the key factor for me is the weather. Whilst I don't mind ( and even expect!) a bit of rain during the British Summer, it's the wind that does it for me. My last walking weekend away ended in diasaster when we attempted a ramble in a howling gale. I literally couldn't stand up against it, and managed only ten paces at a time before being blown over into the heather. In the end, a strong gentleman had to take me by the arm and escort me most of the way home. As many parts of the Penine Way are exposed and remote, high winds would likely be quite an issue at times. Clearly, I have to get some more ballast first! As such, I won't be attempting the Penine Way this summer. But I haven't given up on my dream to walk it one day; hopefully it will be a splendid way to reconnect with the real world again after writing my thesis!

So, it's going to be Offa's Dyke instead, a 177 mile route that roughly follows the English-Welsh border. It may be a considerable drop in distance, but it still packs in 28000 foot of ascent, roughly the height of Everest. I will be starting a page soon detailing my planned stages and I have an exciting training walk lined up in the Lake District in May/June so will be posting on that soon, if only so you can avoid your holiday on the same week as it's bound to rain!

But I would like to extend an invitation now to all of you who have had the care and compassion to follow this blog to join me in walking any of the sections of the trail. If you fancy a day's ramble in the glorious  English-Welsh countryside, it would be wonderful to have your company. I'm prepared to go it alone, but I have learnt that recovery is a journey that may start with yourself, but that will ultimately involve so many people. 

Maybe in a year or two...

Meanwhile, I had a bit of worrying news last week....according to my last blood test, my blood glucose levels were abnormally low at 1.8 ( normally, it should be at least 4) . And yet I hadn't even fasted, having eaten my usual breakfast. At first I dismissed this, thinking it was a mistake but then I began to wonder....perhaps those little things that have been nagging me for a while now - feeling a bit nauseous sometimes in the mornings, my heart fluttering a bit if I get up too suddenly, feeling so tired at times that I just slump against the wall at the bottom of the stairs- perhaps these weren't simply due to lack of sleep after all. It has unnerved me as one of the conditions for my return to my PhD is that my bloods are stable. M suggested it may be because I eat a lot of fruit, and fructose can cause a spike in insulin levels. It's something I'm going to have to keep an eye on. Fingers crossed the next test will be clear.

I hope you are enjoying a restful weekend, ready for the week ahead. Thank you for reading.

This CAN'T go on....

Another rollercoaster week, flickering past with both happy highs and terrible lows...

First up - today's weight check. I was confident that I would see some progress - there had to be, with all this food I'm eating! But the scales had only moved imperceptibly, perhaps not at all. I thought I had seen a slight increase but at the clinic today my weight measurement was recorded the same as my last visit - two weeks ago. After chucking in a "colossal" amount of extra fuel....no real change.

So the problem has to be the exercise. And I find it so so hard to break the gym habit. I can manage one full day's rest a week but have struggled to make it two. The trouble is, I rationalise that "weight training isn't as hard as cardio so my weight training session counts as a rest really...". It may not even come down to a case of how much I do or don't do exactly. As I have come to believe, intense exercise puts the body into a state of "stress", as it cannot differentiate between a fierce workout in the gym and being chased by a lion. If I constantly subject my body to this treatment, without building in adequate time for recovery, how can I expect it to relax enough to start investing in laying down reserves of fat and muscle again?

It was easier to cope with when I just blindly obeyed the voice that compelled me to march to the gym every day. But now that I am aware of time running out, part of me is starting to fight it. Monday evenings are the worst - I come back from a long day at work, tired, exhausted and yearning for sleep but no, to the gym I must go for "a few weights and a bit of cardio" - and this was meant to be my rest day! I usually end up sobbing on the floor of the changing rooms until I finally give in, so spent that all I can do is go through the motions on the machines until I can finally go home, embarrassed and feeling utterly degraded.

I am fed up with feeling how pointless and futile my life is - how pointless and futile I, MYSELF, have made it. I am now at the point where I cannot even IMAGINE how it is to be free from incessantly worrying about food and whether calories in = calories out. I go to the gym and work out just so I can eat, but I don't even enjoy food anymore. I feel as though I am just putting food in my mouth for the sake of it. There is no taste anymore. Even the ice cream cone I had for supper last night (calorie counted of course!) just tasted of cardboard mush.

Last weekend, I went to see the film "He named me Malala" about the Pakistani schoolgirl who was shot by the Taliban for demanding that girls be allowed to go to school. Her courageous story put me to shame. I was seized with such a yearning to live for a cause bigger than me, to be able to selflessly dedicate my life to a cause as she has done. Oh, how can I live with myself , I with everything handed to me on a plate, in this land of opportunities - and who have retreated into a self-absorbed world of consumption?

But I still hope that my diet plan WILL have an effect in time - after all, I don't know what, if any, internal organ damage needs to be addressed before any fat deposits can go on. If there is no change come next week though, I need to make myself uncomfortable. I keep telling myself that I might feel bad for missing a gym session but I will feel a whole lot worse if I lose my PhD! In the meantime, I am going to arrange a system with the instructors at the gym so that I check in and out with them each time. That way, they can make sure I can't be tempted to keep adding more things to my workout sessions: I do what I tell them in advance I will do, then LEAVE.

Phew! With all that, I will have to post my update on the walk later on this week. But I will leave you with this picture, which I found last time I went home. I drew it during my last relapse as a reminder of those darkest nights when I would lie in bed, bone pressing on bone, yearning to sink into the oblivion of blissful sleep but knowing I would wake up with aches all over from where the mattress pressed into my frame.

I can't go there again. I WON'T.

Truth, lies, progress and...cake

Aside from one meltdown in the gym,the time since my last post has been pretty positive. It's been one week today since I introduced my 'improved diet' and when I checked my weight this morning, the scales had crept up a little...so I am finally making progress in the RIGHT direction! But I can't fool myself into thinking that everything will just follow on naturally from here, I need to keep my eye on the clock to make sure I arrive at the target on time. I only have three months left and, as the countdown shows, time is ticking away...

And how have I been coping with the changes? I have generally been managing my bigger breakfasts and lunches, even though I feel it is a lot of food - and more nutrient dense than my usual bowls of 'rabbit food'- fruit and salad. But I won't be continuing with the 'post workout recovery drinks" for purely practical reasons. At the end of the day, I have to make sure any changes are ones that I can manage over the long term and it's quite a faff to prepare these from scratch each time, as I don't have enough fridge space to keep ready made ones. Then there's the fact that I usually exercise either just before breakfast or dinner so don't feel much like a milky drink then anyway! 

A big achievement though, has been to stop calorie counting my 'after lunch treat' and base this simply on portion size, just like I used to do, rather than poring over the nutritional information on the packet with a calculator. It is so lovely to be a bit more relaxed around this 'daily indulgence' as it opens the door to spontaneity.  For instance, I've been fortunate to have one or two events on this week ( see my other blog for details-  http://scienceasadestiny.blogspot.co.uk) and it was so lovely to simply be able to help myself to one of the little brownies on the lunchtime buffet, without worrying that I couldn't work out exactly how many calories were within that gorgeously fudge interior. And it meant I could make a cake! I haven't baked anything for a long time and had forgotten how much I enjoy the creativity of putting different ingredients together. Not quite MasterChef standard but that's not really the point is it?!

A pastry-free version of Bakewell Tart - and with strawberries instead of jam! 

On the other hand, so far I haven't cut down much on the cardio but I have a long overdue session booked in with M to get my focus back on swapping some of the spinning for building myself up with the weights.

I've also been trying to get a handle on my thoughts and have been going through the CBT notes from my last relapse. When I was in Church in Sunday, it suddenly struck me that this whole illness, despite being primarily manifest to outsiders as a physical disease, has all been caused by my listening to lies inside my head. And that is not so very different to those who struggle and suffer with any addiction - gambling, spending, pornography. We listen to a voice that tells us these things will make us feel valued or better or more able to cope with things - that they will ease some part of our suffering and feelings of inadequacy. But even if they do, it is only for a short while and at their heart, they are all false: promises built on lies.

It reminded me of when Jesus was tempted by Satan, the 'Father of Lies', in the desert and how he confronted his deceit by standing on the truth: It is written...It's time I started to do the same, and base my life and actions on truths that will not change rather than false promises. In that moment , I prayed for peace and suddenly felt a blissful serenity, where I was free from worry and anxiety and negative compulsions. Since then of course, the world and its worries have returned but I have felt generally more peaceful over the past few days.

So it has been a positive month so far, apart from having to make a difficult decision. But I will save that for the next post. I hope March so far has been kind to you too.