Two months ago, if you had said “cadence”, I would have sung you a song; if you had said “cleats”, I would have said “Huh?” and “confidence”, I would have associated with something totally different. Now, when the Spin instructor says get your “cadence” up, my little legs go round in circles. Okay, the legs are not so little, but work with me here…I am wearing cleats for goodness sake!

Over the last few weeks, my posterior seems to have adjusted to a seat. I know to set the saddle to the top of my hip and to look down at my feet to see that just the tops of my toes are visible, when my knees are bent. I know the difference, between “ride easy” and “attack”. I can go into a class and not feel like a Bambi in the headlights and I have even mastered “push pull” on one side and then switching to the other. All of these things I would have thought impossible, especially for a girl who used to be terrified of exercising. I am not sure why, but my self esteem was not robust enough for PE classes as a young child in primary school, and often I was reduced to girlie sniveling in a PE class. This somehow, developed into never liking exercise and avoiding it as some people avoid a spider. I have never really sweated in an exercise class, today, a tiny bead of sweat hit my top lip, after 43 years people, I can confirm sweat is salty!

At the end of the 45 minute class, I had done what all the fit people in the class had done, I felt strong and confident. Probably the first time ever in an exercise sense…mmmhhh…maybe you can teach old dogs new tricks?

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No Dieting

So about four weeks ago, I embarked on a new journey. I had over the last twelve months stacked on the weight. It was a number of reasons, comfort eating, being too busy to plan my meals, not really caring that much about how I looked and just being disconnected from my body and living in my head.

Suddenly, the realisation that even jumping off the cupboard to get into my jeans that were standing upright waiting for me, wasn’t going to work, because even then, I would not fit into them, spurred me into trying to find a new solution. Frankly, the old solutions of depriving myself, weighing food, obsessing about it and feeling enormous guilt about eating the ‘wrong’ things just were not an option. The thought of it made me nauseous, tired and just plain sad. So I made the decision to try something new. The Geneen Roth, “Woman, Food and God” resonated so hard, it almost hurt. I decided to give it a try. Four weeks on, it looks something like this…

I really have been eating only that which “fuels my loveliness”, I have stopped obsessing and having negative feelings to food. I have embraced eating what I feel like but really being present when I eat, so that I am not off with the pixies and still eating without the realisation that I am full. I have sat with emotions that are confronting instead of reaching for the chips, the chocolate or the ice cream. I have learned that emotions that are confronting only hang around until they are acknowledged and when they go, they leave a “lightness” that is pretty awesome. I have eaten the occasional thing which definitely does not fuel my loveliness and instead of feeling anxiety, guilt or failure, I have shrugged my shoulders and enjoyed whatever it was. The result, food is feeling a lot less emotionally charged, four kilograms have melted off me, probably about the same as what I would have lost on a heavy, miserable, constricting diet, except in this process I have found peace with the fridge, its contents and the content in my head.

Loving, no dieting! Just loving it…

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No Dieting

Funny how in life, the anticipation of the event is sometimes scarier than the reality. I was seriously scared about getting on the bike. I am uncoordinated, floppy and lack confidence about physical things. Give me a mental problem to solve and I am confident and fairly quick with a retort. Make me stand up in front of a group of 800 people and say a speech, I won’t be scared about forgetting what I have to say, I won’t need to imagine the audience naked to calm my nerves, but I will be slightly nervous that I trip over my feet as I head onto the stage!!! I know my limitations and physical adroitness is not up there with my talents, it is one of the reason’s I have decided that I should learn to be better physically! Hence, the bike (and of course, my friend Debra’s incessant nagging to join her…)

We took our bikes down to the velodrome and put on our riding shoes with “cleats”. Let me make it clear, up until a month ago, I would have thought a “cleat” was something else and I would not have associated it with a bicycle, anyhow, we arrive, in our gear and vaguely look like people who know what they are doing. We mount our cycles. Deb sits and practices, getting her cleats in and out of the pedals. Me? I decide, I should just ride. I push off (some people say finally!) and click the cleats in perfectly, I feel the wind in my hair, the joy of freedom, I cycle round the velodrome grinning, like I have won the Tour de France. I come full circle, grinning at Deb’s husband, Peter. I smile and yell, “I am going to fall”, I grin and I elegantly land on my side, While Peter rushes to my aid!

Afterwards, he says “I had no idea you were going to fall. You looked so happy”. I thought about it. This bicycle thing is not unlike how I deal with my life. I love learning new things. More often than not, I just get on and try it. Often, I am so busy enjoying the experience that even when I fall I am still grinning. It has stood me in good stead in a lot of situations! What would also stand me in good stead would be a bit of planning and not so much waving to the crowd (in this case, Peter). I needed to have planned what I was going to do if I could not get my feet out of the cleats. I could have just done another lap, kept going and tried another click out of the pedals. Oh, well, now I know! I spent the rest of the ride clicking in and out. Being at one with many things is fabulous, being at one with a bike is great, except when you suddenly need to be “at two”.

How do you learn? And is it fun?

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No Dieting

Change is exciting and dynamic! And TERRIFYING! I have heard somewhere, that the universal fear that every human is born with, is the fear of falling. Tomorrow, I get on the road bike for the first time. I am visualising myself staying upright, but honestly, I am terrified of falling…I was even scared of falling in the spinning class and the bike was stationary!

The bike I have just acquired is beautiful, sleek and looks like it can move like the wind. It is specially designed for a woman. A fast one! I am sure that when it was in the factory, dreaming of its new owner, it fantasised about a strong athlete, who had the heart and stamina of a winner. Poor bike, didn’t realise it was getting me – with a penchant for rather chasing a muffin! If this was another area of endeavour, it might have been more lucky. But alas, it is not!

If success is “feel the fear and do it anyway” then I am half way there, I aim to try to get on the bike, stay on the bike and get fit. I believe, according to the weather forecast, that it is going to be sunny tomorrow in gorgeous Melbourne, so it appears that there is no excuse except to “hit the road”. Figuratively, only, please God!

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No Dieting

Tomorrow I am getting my road bike for The Argus. My friend’s husband (THANK YOU) has been enormously generous with his time and negotiations skills and has hounded the manufacturer with the promise of the sale of two bikes with Shimano 105 gears, in a stop start economy, and has scored us beautiful bikes at a never to be repeated price. He has managed to have the taco-meter, pedals and all sorts of extra’s thrown in. With this work being done for me, I have managed to focus my energies on more important things, like what do I call this new addition to my family?

All my vehicles have had names. My Honda in South Africa, was called Hondela, as Mandela had just been released from jail. My first Australian car was called “Waltzing Matilda” and her brakes appeared to live up to that name. My current baby is called “Gunther” because he is German and has a deep “voice”. My husband’s 4WD is called the “No Girlie Man, Kluger” after Arnold Schwarzenegger made a similar comment when he first became Governor of California. So what to call my new bike? Well, even though I only meet him tomorrow, I think his name will be “Buya Futhi Kusasa” – Zulu – which roughly means “Come Again Tomorrow”. This will reflect my Julie Andrews style of cycling, my African roots and my timing and placement in any cycle race. No need to panic, Lance Armstrong, any comeback you make with me in the peloton, is quite safe!

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No Dieting

My genetic base is full of contradictions. The Italian and the Dutch fusing together to create a blonde-headed, green-eyed, emotive, food lover! I have often referred to myself as “Spaghetti and Cheese” to describe the combination of my Dutch and Italian heritage.

Growing up, when “exotic” food was not accepted in WASP-ish circles, I would denounce any association with pizza, spaghetti bolognaise or lasagne. In the small town I grew up in, it was just way too uncool in the ’70’s to be admitting to anything other than meat, three vege and a yorkshire pudding. In fact, I would beg my father not to cook anything Italian and certainly not to cook it if anyone outside the immediate family was to eat in our home. At that point in time I was a skinny little waif, who was just trying to fit in. Most of my friends had never seen a pizza. It was not until the ’80’s, when Pizza Hut emerged, that suddenly my father was “hip and happening”. Now the world has become obsessed with food, certainly Australia has, if MasterChef viewing is anything to go by. Food seems to have become the new way to fit in, the more diverse the better.

I must have been the only person in Melbourne, who had not watched a single episode of Master Chef. Television and I are not big buddies. But last night, I thought, I should see what the fuss was about (perhaps a tad late, it being the final episode). I have to say, I fell in love with Adam, the Japanese lawyer from Tokyo, who decided he would try his hand at being a “MasterChef”. What I loved about him in the short 60 minutes I saw him, was that he integrated his head, his heart and his skills into what he was doing, but he did it with utter humility. He is the perfect combination of when you bring your passion, skills and intellect to something you can’t go wrong. And when you leave your ego out of it, you have to emerge as he did, authentic and a winner.

It made me think about how we need to take that energy to everything we do, in order to be successful, whether it is our jobs, our relationships, our projects, our goals, whatever we are holding dear at the time. I was starting to feel a bit wobbly about my “No Diet” diet. But after watching Adam, I made healthy meals that had a twist of flavour, without a twist of fat and I managed to throw in some exercise with a manic labrador and a fantastic instructor at the gym (separately!). It was the glow of Adam’s win that inspired me to keep going on. I will continue to try, even when my Italian genes cheer me on with “Mange, Mange, Mange” and my Dutch genes look on disapprovingly, but get their cheeks pinched by the Italian ones and ignored! Adam, I am taking intellect and heart and skill and I will continue to try to make good meals that satisfy my hunger, but don’t indulge my emotions. One day at a time…

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No Dieting

I know who I am. At 43 if you haven’t figured it out, you need to take a crash course in you! But I need no such thing. I am a pudding. I am meant to be savoured after a long Sunday lunch with a dessert wine from the Margaret River region or maybe a Moscato d’Asti with a bit of frizzante from the Piedmont region. So what in all the gods, in all the religions names, am I doing in a Spin Class at 8:30am on a Saturday morning? Trying to climb uphill, while “you twist it up another notch” to the upbeat mania of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Life the Wolf? A pudding is supposed to be setting in its bowl at that time of the morning. But no, there she is with all the muscular main courses who are flexing their muscles and burning faster than a Sunday roast!

I made a commitment, to my friend that I would cycle in a 100 kilometer race in March 2011. So now, the pudding needs to place herself at the very least on a stationary bicycle. I knew at the time that I cycled like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music, when she takes the repressed von Trapp children out on a hypermanic, laughing excursion. This, I too can do. Make me stand up and sing “High on the hill was a lonely goatherd” with an exaggerated English accent and a schoolmarm face and I will do it with aplomb. Some might laugh at me, some might laugh with me but in the end, I would achieve it! Make me cycle 100 kms in Lycra, what was I thinking? Why do seemingly sensible people think there is anything fun about grinding your coccyx with a pestle and mortar of a bicycle seat? If I was Jewish, I would just shake my head and sigh “Oi vey”.

Someone help me, how do I morph from pudding chick to cycling Barbie with the least possible pain? I have solved far greater problems, but this one has me stumped…

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No Dieting

Undoubtedly one of the most beautiful songs in the world is “Ne Me Quitte Pas” or “If you Go Away”. And since I am musing on the concept of “loss” this week. It came into my head. I wanted to Google the song and found a Cirque Du Soleil “Youtube” clip that really made me laugh. It balances the sorrow of the song and then brings in the light that a sense of humour brings to any situation. As much as we need to feel our losses, we do also need to smile at ourselves compassionately.

I thought you might like to see this artistic rendition of the wonderful song…and if my thighs shrink, from this diet that I am NOT on, I will not mourn them with this song…

Ne Me Quitte Pas Link

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No Dieting

There are two things that I think I have clung to since I was a child, the avoidance of loss and the feeling of fullness. I liked them both. Perhaps genetically, I come from a long line of shepherds, but I like to know that my people and things that I love are accounted for when I go to bed at night. If one “lamb” was missing, I would be an anxious, little mess as a child. I have learnt to mask this anxiety as an adult, but fundamentally the feeling still bubbles under the surface, sometimes unacknowledged and unconscious.

I don’t do loss very well, certainly not of anything I truly love. Friends, I have collected from when I was as young as six, are still in my life; people I love, fill a space in my heart and if they leave, the shape of the space they created deflates and I don’t like the feeling of emptiness. I need the fullness of my peeps. I also like the feeling of fullness after a meal, surrounded by the people I love. Maybe that is the Italian in me, but that is the ultimate bliss. So musing on this I turned my thoughts to my own emigration (I am reading Joanne Fedler’s book and it is certainly similar). In emigrating, I lost the ability to “count my sheep” as I got into bed at night. I had no idea where they were, in fact they were prancing around in daylight, wide-awake while I was dreaming on the other side of the world. One loses a lot when one abandons your home, your culture, your music, your life and starts over. I gained a lot too and have been enormously blessed, but it made me really hate loss even more!

So how does this translate to weight loss. It just feels like another loss I have to endure, another emptiness, another deflation of a space that something I loved used to occupy. Yes, there is a gain. Just like my wonderful new home, that gave me an amazing career, more freedom than I ever dreamed of, the ability to build wealth in a stable currency, an infrastructure that is first world and even tiny things like the ability for me to walk unharmed, at 10pm on a foggy, winter’s night, alone, with ipods in my ears is amazing. But the loss if horrible. Going forward I am banishing loss, to the extent that I can. My no diet philosophy has a new angle, it is the gaining of health. Out with loss! And if you are reading this and you are one of my peeps, far away, I still hold you with fullness

Onwards to a successful week for all of my buddies all around the world…

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I ran like the wind last night, well, like a gentle breeze – not a hurricane! Just twenty minutes on the treadmill, that normally doubles as a clothes-horse. In fact, I think the treadmill is so used to being a clothes-horse that it would be quite calm if I just draped myself over one of its handles and hung out there for a while…

But I digress, this is not about the treadmill. It is amazing how when you connect with your energy and push yourself, you do feel amazingly alive and how that translates to benefits hours later. I had to get up at 5:30am this morning to attend a breakfast launch in the city. I know that if I had not run last night, I would not have managed to get up half as cheerily as I did. As I was sitting on the train coming home tonight, I was musing about how when you put a different lens on a problem, you do see things differently and the solution does become quite different. It is about finding the right lens and then trusting your instincts, to try the solution that looks different to what previously made you successful. Let me explain, whenever I diet, I do lose weight, but there is an anxiety around any event that has food in it or actually just anxiety about whether I will get through the day sticking to the diet plan. And which event does not have food in it and what day does not have temptations? In diet-mode, I am always passing judgement about whether a day was “good” or “bad” based on what I did or did not eat! I don’t end up saying it was a good day if something fantastic happened at work, this would be paled into insignificance by the muffin I might have eaten in a meeting, rather than the major breakthrough that occurred in that meeting! Not a good way to live your life! So the new lens needs to focus differently…

So what was different today? Normally, prior to an event, my internal Gourmand and my food Nazi would have an enormous argument about what I will or will not eat. Today was different, subtle, but different. I went to breakfast with the view that I would eat only that which was healthy and I would be aware of my hunger and stop when I was satisfied. This subtle shift away from feeling deprived, was awesome. Suddenly I was free to eat and free to not eat. And the removal of the anxiety about sticking to “the plan” meant I did actually defuse the obsession with what I might eat and I actually ate sensibly, focussed on the event and not feeling like a failure because what has passed my lips did not perfectly fit into “the plan”.

Verdict for Tuesday – Food suddenly doesn’t feel as emotionally charged and the relief is palpable! I am actually not as hungry as I normally would be if I was on a diet as I am not focussing on food and therefore am eating less…go figure!

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