I'm now onto the third week of hCG + Food Plan, and it seems to be going quite well. I've lost 17lbs so far, which is very enviable. For a while Merlin the rabbit stopped talking to me, but he's back on side now. We think he probably just smelled the detox taking place in my system and didn't want anything to do with it. I contemplated doing an extra 3 weeks for a while, but I've decided not to as I can afford it and I'm rather looking forward to eating something other than chicken, steak, tuna or omelette. There are many other options on the list, but given how I have responded badly to some of these in the past I've decided to stick to the proteins that I know and trust. I've stopped detoxing and craving, I'm barely feeling hungry at all, and I'm starting to feel a bit less tired. I don't think I'm going to get the complete health revolution that I was hoping for within the next week, but any weight lost is to be praised, I do feel like I'm on better terms with my body, and I can go back onto hCG + Food Plan without the mentoring once I have completed Consolidation.
I've learnt an awful lot from Leslie over the last two weeks, and I can't help thinking that I've got a lot more to learn over the next 7 weeks. I've got a lot to learn from my body too. I suspect I know what it's going to tell me, and the future of squidgy chip shop chips does not look good for me. But the rule with Cura Romana is not to create a list of rules for what thou may and may not eat, but rather to make you more aware of the impact each food has on your system. If I know that chips make me bloat, for example, I can choose to indulge occasionally knowing that the result will be a bloat. Or I can choose to eat something lighter, and pinch one or two of my husband's chips to get a taste.
I'm still struggling to rest as much as I should be. It doesn't help that this week seems to have a busy schedule in store for me, following on from a busy weekend. I just seem to be incapable of taking time to chill out and relax and, interestingly, that is starting to really annoy me now. I just want to put all of my commitments on hold so that I can spend an hour lying on the sofa listening to plinky plonky music. Or maybe head over to the "spa" at Larkfield Leisure Centre to have a dip in the jacuzzi and a quick sauna. Hmm, that sounds nice. I've never really been annoyed by not being able to take time to relax before, just tired. It does explain how I've managed to wind up with a fatigue deficit quite as large as I have!
It probably doesn't help that I've signed up to NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. It's a challenge that requires participants to write a novel (or at least 50,000 words thereof) over the course of November. It's going to be tricky, and will probably be keeping me very busy, but it will be something different, interesting and potentially rather cathartic to do. It also keeps my stuck on the sofa behind my laptop, which is a good place to get some rest. So now, as well as keeping you posted on the progress of my weight loss, I will be keeping you posted on the progress of my novel. It sounds like a fun month.
But at least I'm not trying to take part in Movember.
Showing posts with label relaxation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relaxation. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Clutter.
I always forget how many facets conditions like fibromyalgia can have. I've reminded myself of this repeatedly over the last two weeks, as I have run myself so ragged that I haven't had time to blog.
It all started when I decided that the time was right to find a more convenient premises than A New Leaf, and move into the Regus building, which is something I have been considering for a long time. The idea of this is that if I am located somewhere like Kings Hill I can treat local office workers and Mums, for whom A New Leaf is simply not convenient. Even if it is a spectacular oasis of calm. In order to streamline as much as possible, whilst still carrying everything I needed, I went through my large case and cleared out all of the stuff that I don't use any more. There was a surprisingly large amount of it. And everything felt much better for getting rid of unnecessary clutter.
This inspired me to get rid of more unnecessary clutter in my life. I've had a good clear out (okay, well not a good clear out, but it's a start) in my back room, and put a load on ebay. It'll feel good to have a bit of space back, and a few more pennies in my purse will feel even better. And hopefully this will pave the start of a good habit for me, and I will be able to keep my physical space free of clutter.
Of course, it's not just physical clutter that can make a fibromyalgic feel rough. I'm sure many of you are familiar with the feeling of fibro fog. For those of you who aren't, this is a feeling of fog on the brain, that makes your brain move slowly, words seem outside of your grasp, and any kind of mental faculty something you can only dream of. And, sadly, clearing the clutter out of your mind is not as easy as clearing it out of your home. I find a bit of meditation can really help, but sometimes the clutter feels so thick that any amount of sitting quietly cannot give you space to clear your mind. And I feel like this has been the case for me recently.
My personal goal for this week is to find a little bit of time every day to zone out and meditate. I will clear my mind of errant thoughts, and focus on a slow progression of numbers counting from 1 to 10. Every time a sneaky thought pops into my brain, I will thank it and ask it to return later when it is more convenient. I don't know if I will make it to 10. It's an exercise I find very difficult. But one thing I can be sure of is that if I practise every day I will find it much easier by the end of the week than I did at the beginning.
It all started when I decided that the time was right to find a more convenient premises than A New Leaf, and move into the Regus building, which is something I have been considering for a long time. The idea of this is that if I am located somewhere like Kings Hill I can treat local office workers and Mums, for whom A New Leaf is simply not convenient. Even if it is a spectacular oasis of calm. In order to streamline as much as possible, whilst still carrying everything I needed, I went through my large case and cleared out all of the stuff that I don't use any more. There was a surprisingly large amount of it. And everything felt much better for getting rid of unnecessary clutter.
This inspired me to get rid of more unnecessary clutter in my life. I've had a good clear out (okay, well not a good clear out, but it's a start) in my back room, and put a load on ebay. It'll feel good to have a bit of space back, and a few more pennies in my purse will feel even better. And hopefully this will pave the start of a good habit for me, and I will be able to keep my physical space free of clutter.
Of course, it's not just physical clutter that can make a fibromyalgic feel rough. I'm sure many of you are familiar with the feeling of fibro fog. For those of you who aren't, this is a feeling of fog on the brain, that makes your brain move slowly, words seem outside of your grasp, and any kind of mental faculty something you can only dream of. And, sadly, clearing the clutter out of your mind is not as easy as clearing it out of your home. I find a bit of meditation can really help, but sometimes the clutter feels so thick that any amount of sitting quietly cannot give you space to clear your mind. And I feel like this has been the case for me recently.
My personal goal for this week is to find a little bit of time every day to zone out and meditate. I will clear my mind of errant thoughts, and focus on a slow progression of numbers counting from 1 to 10. Every time a sneaky thought pops into my brain, I will thank it and ask it to return later when it is more convenient. I don't know if I will make it to 10. It's an exercise I find very difficult. But one thing I can be sure of is that if I practise every day I will find it much easier by the end of the week than I did at the beginning.
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Boating.
I've just got back from a week's holiday. I feel all refreshed, after spending some time on the canals in a narrowboat. It's something we do about once a year, because it's so relaxing.
For anyone who hasn't been boating before, the premise is very simple. You board your boat, head off at up to 4mph (walking speed), and then when you reach a convenient spot you stop, moor up and spend your evening relaxing however you choose. For us, that is to cook a meal in the small galley, watch a DVD and then get an early night. For many other boaters, it is a great way to visit every pub within walking distance of a canal over the course of a week. Basically, it's a plusher form of camping with the tent carrying you between pitches rather than the other way around.
At the start of every holiday on the boat, I look down at the ladders to get in and out of the living area, and can't imagine how I'm going to manage the whole week. I wobble, I groan, I heave, and I manage to get back up onto the deck. I spend a couple of hours at the tiller, and then I start to feel relaxed, refreshed, and even a little bit more human than usual. I don't know what it is about the boat, but something manages to really ease my condition. It might be the slower pace of life that you experience when nothing happens faster than 4mph, it might be the extra sunlight I get as I sit outside all day, or it might be the fresh air. All I know is that by the end of the week, I'm leaping up and down the steps like a seasoned seadog.
As you can imagine, it is a very peaceful experience. If you take enough food with you and choose to stay on board and moor up in the middle of nowhere, you can pass a whole week without really colliding with non-canal civilisation once. You might pass roads and pubs, but they are gone just as quickly as they arrived.
I know that boating isn't for everyone, and that there are plenty of people physically worse off than me who aren't able to give it a try. I think the point I am trying to make, though, is that there are activities out there that look horrendously painful at first, yet seem to actually provide a sense of enormous relief if you persevere a little. For me, the benefits of a week on the boat each year definitely outweigh the initial pain of trying to manage the steps on the first couple of days. I have a special stool to allow me to sit at the tiller rather than try to stand, and I have a very helpful man who bends down to fix the ropes to the moorings in exchange for me tying the knots (I am a Girl Guide, after all!). My boating experience isn't entirely disability-free, but it does feel like a very 'normal' activity, harking back to my pre-accident days.
That said, narrowboats can be adapted for wheelchair users, so there's no reason why the physical limitations should be the be all and end all...
For anyone who hasn't been boating before, the premise is very simple. You board your boat, head off at up to 4mph (walking speed), and then when you reach a convenient spot you stop, moor up and spend your evening relaxing however you choose. For us, that is to cook a meal in the small galley, watch a DVD and then get an early night. For many other boaters, it is a great way to visit every pub within walking distance of a canal over the course of a week. Basically, it's a plusher form of camping with the tent carrying you between pitches rather than the other way around.
At the start of every holiday on the boat, I look down at the ladders to get in and out of the living area, and can't imagine how I'm going to manage the whole week. I wobble, I groan, I heave, and I manage to get back up onto the deck. I spend a couple of hours at the tiller, and then I start to feel relaxed, refreshed, and even a little bit more human than usual. I don't know what it is about the boat, but something manages to really ease my condition. It might be the slower pace of life that you experience when nothing happens faster than 4mph, it might be the extra sunlight I get as I sit outside all day, or it might be the fresh air. All I know is that by the end of the week, I'm leaping up and down the steps like a seasoned seadog.
As you can imagine, it is a very peaceful experience. If you take enough food with you and choose to stay on board and moor up in the middle of nowhere, you can pass a whole week without really colliding with non-canal civilisation once. You might pass roads and pubs, but they are gone just as quickly as they arrived.
I know that boating isn't for everyone, and that there are plenty of people physically worse off than me who aren't able to give it a try. I think the point I am trying to make, though, is that there are activities out there that look horrendously painful at first, yet seem to actually provide a sense of enormous relief if you persevere a little. For me, the benefits of a week on the boat each year definitely outweigh the initial pain of trying to manage the steps on the first couple of days. I have a special stool to allow me to sit at the tiller rather than try to stand, and I have a very helpful man who bends down to fix the ropes to the moorings in exchange for me tying the knots (I am a Girl Guide, after all!). My boating experience isn't entirely disability-free, but it does feel like a very 'normal' activity, harking back to my pre-accident days.
That said, narrowboats can be adapted for wheelchair users, so there's no reason why the physical limitations should be the be all and end all...
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