Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!
It’s a very, very, very, very sunny day here in St Helens. I am not complaining in the slightest. The sun is out and everyone seems to be in a
great mood.
Today I am breaking out of my comfort zone and wearing a burgundy,
black and cream strappy playsuit with my black and gold gladiator sandals plus my
trusty black cardigan as Simon loves to run the air conditioning on sub zero
degree temperatures. I love jumpsuits,
as you all know, but playsuits are a bit different. That means legs are on display and plus you
have the issue that the playsuit can wedge up into your crotch. That is not a good look when you have to keep picking your jumpsuit out of your flange. But it is liberating having the breeze on your
legs.
Which brings me to motivation.
As you all know I have been struggling to lose weight. I do well, and then I relax and the weight
comes back on. This time I am actually
doing it!!! I have lost in total 16
pounds. It’s been hell. Some weeks I lose 2 pounds and then I will
have weeks where I don’t lose at all.
Then I will gain and then lose. I
am very close to clearing my first hurdle.
The place called “Onederland”.
Onederland is a magical place. It
is a place where normal people are. It’s
a hurdle that I have been trying to clear for 2 and a half years now. I get
very close. Very, very, very, very close
and then I snap, relax and then go the other way.
I have decided that enough is enough. So I have become the food Nazi. I am now the most boring woman in the
world. Why? Because I am tired of being a fattie. And before anyone says, oh no you are not a
fattie, I say shut your fucking cakehole, I am a fattie. Right now I weigh in at 203 pounds and when
you are 5 foot 5, yeah, I am a fattie.
But I am doing something about it properly. What have I done? I have cut my alcohol down to nothing. I am eating 3 meals a day and 2 snacks. All clean, all healthy. I am busting my ass at the gym 5-6 days a week. I do yoga one day a week. I also have stopped apologising for taking
care of myself. For example Rita wants
to meet up this weekend and I have told her that if we do, there will be NO
alcohol consumed. (She hasn't responded to confirm that she wants to meet up) And instead of waiting
for Simon to get home, I eat 60 minutes after my workout. I cook Simon dinner separately. Fuck everyone else. I am focusing on me and my goals.
I will be going home for Christmas this year, not only to
Ohio, but Simon and I are flying in Miami.
Yes, Miami. One of the plastic
surgery capitals of the USA. Where there
is sunshine pretty much 365 days a year.
So I will be surrounded by fit, sexy women and I don’t want to look
longingly at their toned fit bodies thinking, oh I am so fat. No I want to join to hottie brigade. I am tired of being the funny fat one.
Yes, I have written about this before but the thought of
turning 35 and being a fattie makes me sick.
So I have swapped coffee for hot lemon water or peppermint tea. Sandwiches for Chicken and Broccoli. The hardest part for me is the weekend. I usually have a “treat” on the weekend but I
have now cut down on treats. I do give
myself one treat and it is my post workout meal on a Saturday morning. I treat myself to a pastry and a cup of
coffee. My dinner usually a steak with homemade sweet
potato chips or a salad.
I am training with my personal trainer twice a week. We hit the weights and I am lifting
heavy. I am squatting 110 kilos,
deadlifting 105 kilos, bench pressing 80 kilos and military pressing 40
kilos. On days that I don’t train with personal
trainer, I do cardio circuits. It
hurts. My face is purple
afterwards. I feel like I am going to
die.
But it is getting me closer to my goal. It may be 1-2 pounds a week but I am getting
closer to clearing my first hurdle.
Onederland. I have got to clear
Onederland. Once I have cleared
Onederland, it is a mental roadblock that is lifted. I am then back into the normal club.
Suzanne has been so supportive. I check in with her and my personal trainer
once a week with my measurements and my weight.
She cheers me on. She puts me in
my place if I don’t perform and there have been times when I have been training
that I want to give up I message her and she pushes me and tells me to keep
going. Keep pushing. Eye on the prize.
The hardest thing for me has been motivation though.
What I am about to say, I am going to apologise for because I
do not condone at all what I am about to say as I believe in building people up
and not breaking them down.
My biggest motivation, though, has been Keith’s
girlfriend. She is a horrible
person. She is controlling him. She has moved him away from his friends and family. He doesn’t go out on lads nights out
anymore. She has made him delete all his
friends that are girls (including me) on social media (but she has male
strippers on her friends list?) and basically she is controlling every aspect
of his life.
And she is a big fat, fattie. She is huge.
When I was kind of friendly with her she would complain about being fat
but said that she couldn’t exercise.
BULLSHIT. Everyone can
exercise. Hell, I have good friend of
mine in a wheelchair with a debilitating bone disease and she exercises. There is a guy with cerebral palsy that is
wheelchair bound that goes to the gym and works out. And there is an old guy that has a respirator
who works out that the gym. What is your
fucking excuse? Going for a walk,
getting on an exercise bike, lifting arm weights, yoga, horseback
riding....there are so many activities to do!
I know that there are some people that hate gyms, that is totally
ok. I get it. The gym isn’t for everyone but the weather is
glorious outside. Walk outside. Or you can get free workouts on Instagram (That’s what I do for my cardio but I do them in the gym), workout DVD's, workouts on YouTube that you can do in
the comfort of your own home. Just get
up and move!!!!
She is my biggest motivator.
I do NOT want to be like her at all.
Ever. In anyway. I don’t want to be fat like her. I don’t want to be horrible like her. I am insecure as a person but I don’t want to
ostracise Simon from his friends and family.
I don’t want to tell lies, shit stir and cause harm. Again, I feel bad about what I have written
but she is a lesson for everyone to learn from.
To me, my motivation is not only to look fit in Miami but
for her to see me slim, fitting into a UK size 10-12 pair of jeans or a bodycon looking fit. I have snuck a photo of hers off of her
facebook and put it on my desktop to look at if I smell a bacon sandwich or see
a cake. I DO NOT WANT TO BE LIKE HER....
I also want to fit into a certain jumpsuit for the flight to
Miami. I bought this jumpsuit from
Primark back in 2011 when I was thinner.
I feel in love with it when I first saw it. It is strapless with a sweet heart top. It is navy blue with cream and tan with a tan belt
and wide legs. Very flattering. The label said size 14. I tried it on in the Primark in Manchester
and it fit and I couldn’t afford it at the time (it was the week before
payday!!) and the next weekend I found
the same jumpsuit, size 14, in the Primark in Liverpool, I didn’t try it
on. I went to wear it and there is no
way that I gained 20 pounds in one week!!!
Talk about a mind fuck!!! This
jumpsuit (after measuring it) is a UK size 12 (USA size 8) Not a UK size 14 (USA size 10). So it has sat in my wardrobe waiting for me
to wear it. And I will wear it on the
flight over to Miami with my tan tasselled sandals. It is hanging up on the outside of my
wardrobe so I see it EVERYDAY. It is a
reminder that I need to remember to exercise, eat properly and treat myself
better.
I think that the main message from all this is that if you
want to lose weight, motivation and accountability is the key. I have exactly 48 days (Just under 7 weeks) until my birthday and 118
days (Under 17 weeks) until I board the flight to Miami.
I am fighting every day, every fucking day, to get into that
jumpsuit. And I will get into it.
So, it’s time for another peppermint tea and some walnuts
and until next time, Ragers and Ragettes, keep your head and standards high and
your heels even higher
Lots of love
The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxx
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