Trip a trip a stack.

Up in the lower Blue Mountains, air still and cool, birds cheeping in the background.
My first bushwalk was looking set to be a nice adventure. It was the first time I had met some of the women from Barry's bootcamp. They all looked so fit but better still they were so nice.They made me feel so welcome, like I had been part of it all from the start.But within me I felt so insecure and totally unsure of how I would stack up. I knew I wouldnt be able to keep up - a total contrast to when I was younger.

I remember starting the walk thinking "How beautiful this is?", and how I felt totally in control of my pace. But believe me it didnt last long. I was situated towards the back of the group if not at the end. So all I could see was the backs of everyone else and hear their conversations.I remember hearing laughs and giggles and my heavy breathing. As the walk continued my breathing got heavier and louder, and their discussions became softer. Not because they were not talking but because they were moving ahead in leaps and bounds. About every kilometre Barry would stop and let us all regroup and he would make sure I was okay. I answered "Yes" after a couple of puffs of my inhaler and the walk would continue.

On I plodded and within a short distance I remember losing sight of all (gees they were super fit), but one lady Sharon stayed one step of me and kept on asking me if I was okay and that she would keep me company. The regrouping continued for another couple of kilometres until at one point I remember saying to Sharon "I feel like I am going to twist an ankle", and literally within about 5-10 minutes of saying that, that is exactly what I did.In my head it all felt like it happened in slow motion, like watching a sequence out of the Matrix. If someone was watching I am sure it would have looked funny, but when I hit the ground I heard a snap - and then PAIN.

Everyone came running to my aide. I am not sure what was more bruised, my ankle or my ego. I am sure it was the latter. Barry and all of the ladies wanted to end the walk and help me out but I wouldnt have been able to live with myself if they all missed out on their walk. I got up and said I was ok (after some hollering and wailling like a big girl), and felt good that they all continued their activity. Sharon insisted on helping me out and she kept me company on the way back to the cars.

On our way back we left our fellow bootcampers a message on the driveway with our water bottles and also some broken twigs. We thought we were very clever.

When all the ladies returned from their walk I was totally astounded at how they were not even out of breath. My ankle had swollen some but I was more embarrassed than anything. I remember waiting for them all to leave and just bursting into tears in front of Barry. He assured me that all would be okay and that I would recover and live to see another bushwalk. And I have. But back then I thought that nothing good would ever come out of me exercising. I had somehow assumed a "sick role" and the mentality attached to it would be harder to break than the physical limitations.

Food Glorious Food.

Okay, so lets start by recapping what I said in the last sentence of the last post. "I thought I ate a good mix of stuff and drank enough water".Hmmmm, good mix of stuff - my carbs were accounted for (chips,pasta,chips,bread,chips,rice- followed by more chips, oh and McDonalds). Water was almost in everything I drank - Coca Cola, Tea, Coffee (6 a day to be exact). Thats heaps of water! RIGHT! Nope.

Now being a good little girl from ethnic background I was always taught to eat everything that was on my plate. And if you didn't eat it was because you were sick. So as always I complied. Having Prednisone (steroid used to reduce inflammation) on board didn't help either. All it made me do was eat. So now you see my weight gain had been attributed to lack of exercise, medication, ravenous eating and a sedentary lifestyle.

I knew I couldn't be trusted to do the food stuff on my own, so i enlisted the help of Lite n' Easy. 1500 cals was all I could eat a day for my weight, age and level of activity. I thought that was heaps. And it looked like heaps when it got delivered. It wasn't until I opened up each individual pack that I remember saying to myself " What the?". My brain had become so used to eating large meals that normal portions looked like something a toddler would eat. And to make matters worse I now had to eat breakfast...BLAH. But, if I was going to do this I had to do it right. And that meant not only eating healthy, but drinking water as well and changing my minds habits. No more complaining and no more finding excuses.

So every week when my meals got delivered I ordered my next weeks meals straight away. This became the norm for the next 5 months. The only thing that was hard about it all was having to cook meals for the family. So I kicked the temptation to eat their food whilst I was cooking it by nibbling on a carrot or celery stick. It helped. Every day it got easier and easier and I no longer wanted to eat anything that stood still for long enough.

I knew I was on my way.

Oh the pain !!!!

Apart from childbirth, I never knew I would experience anything like this - and worst still it was self inflicted. Everything hurt, even things on my body that had no nerve endings hurt. My lungs screamed out for oxygen and possibly even a fire extinguisher because it felt like they were on fire.

I remember having to jump up and down on this little step that Barry brought and having flashbacks of a midwife saying to me "it is very important you keep up with your pelvic floor exercises after childbirth". Now was the time I wish I had listened. So I just had to keep jumping, squeeze tight and wish for the best until it could be held no longer. Not being shy about these things I would let Barry know that there may need to be a "mop and bucket to isle 3" moment and he would graciously let me have pitstops along the way thank goodness - not many but atleast I got a couple :).

Barry, bought some boxing gloves and focus pads to our sessions and I loved it. Not only did it give me a good outlet to release pent up anger and stress but what a great cardio workout. I could hardly speak. Actually, I couldnt. My mouth would be so dry from just trying to breathe I had trouble trying to close it. It was as if someone had emptied a bottle of talcum powder into it.

Being quite a talkative person I do believe Barry knew when I was tired as I would stop talking and just look at him with total disbelief that he was asking me do something like this. All he would do was smile and give me a pat and say "Your doing good, keep it up".

The session would end with me literally on the floor feeling like a beached whale. I was so exhausted physically, however inside my head I was buzzing like a butterfly trying to escape from its cocoon.

My next plan of attack was my dietary intake. Oh boy, I thought I ate a good mix of stuff and drank enough water...lol. I couldnt have been further from the truth.

What was I thinking?

I woke up the morning of my first personal training session in June excited, anxious, ready to start this journey of mine. My first dilemma however was "What do I wear?". I didn't think to go out and buy myself an outfit that would remotely help me feel fit. So I put on an old pair of black bike tights that were too small - but I figured thats why they called them TIGHTS :), and one of Stephen's t-shirts. Up went the hair in a pony tail and I whacked on a cap. I was ready! Or so I thought.

My first class was a fitness assessment. Oh boy! This was to be an eye opener, but even with all the dread I held in my heart i was really ready for the answers. I needed to see where I stood and what it was going to take to get me where I wanted to be. I can remember looking at Barry (the trainer) and thinking lets get on with it. I am sure he felt my anxiety and as such he proceeded gently and cautiously so as not to bruise my already battered self image.

The fitness assessment went as follows:

• Flexibility - +1
• 50m run - 10.4 seconds
• Push Ups - 20
• Sit Ups - 30
• Chin Ups - 0
• Steps Ups in 2 min - 53
• Beep Test - 3.7
• Rating - Cat 7

I only found out recently what the Category 7 stood for - VERY POOR. I thank him with all my heart for not having given me the "very poor" status as I think it may have just crushed all my hopes. I thought there were 10 categories, not 7!!!

That very night I could hardly walk. The pain in my back was excruciating. I felt deflated - how was I going to cope with doing exercise if my back couldnt cope with an easy fitness test. I went to bed that night and cried. But when I woke up the next morning, although my back was sore the defeatist attitude had gone into hiding and there was a tiny spark of the old Barbara resurfacing. I got up, took the kids to school and went for a swim with my friend.

This is it.

I can remember making the decision to lose weight as scary yet totally exciting. I knew that this was more than likely going to be difficult, what I didnt realise was HOW difficult. I signed up for a gym and a trainer from the gym and sat down for the inevitable questions "What has prompted you to sign up?, What are your goals?". I knew I had the right answers but were they achieveable?

I started going twice a week, once with the trainer and once by myself and also swam once a week. Only swimming 500m at first - stopping every 50m. When I went to the gym however I felt quite intimidated by all the fit people. It started to not be enjoyable and I was lacking the enthusiasm to continue going. I tried to resolve this by going at a quieter time but I was just not comfortable at all.

My best friend who had seen me go through all my up's and down's suggested seeing her trainer who did bootcamps out in the open air. She felt he would be better suited to me and my needs and that the classes were not about "whose outfit was better" rather helping each person find what was right for them. Even with all of that I still felt intimidated by being around other people and felt I needed the one on one class.

When I met Barry for the first time I remember thinking to myself "This is the man who is going to change my way of thinking, this is the man who is going to help me lose weight and do it carefully". I remember thinking "This is it".

March 2009 - The Day.

This was me on my 35th birthday. I was 88kg. This day brought great joy as I got to see my brother Mario (green and white stripe shirt) after some years, and it also brought great sadness and desperation to see how much weight I had gained. When I saw this photo on the view finder of the camera something snapped inside me and it was then at that very moment I knew things had to change.

History

Guess I should start by telling you all about myself. I am actually 35, closer to 36 but feeling more now like I am 18. I started swimming as a child due to Asthma. Found out that even though I hated it at the beginning - I was pretty good at it. Made it to State Championships within a year and Nationals when I was 12. By the time I reached 14, I found swimming to be "so last season" and quit.

In between then and 2008, I finished school - well to Yr 11, travelled a bit, found the man of my dreams (Stephen) and became a mother to the lights of my life - boy/girl twins Kurtis and Taillah who are now almost 14 and Kyle who is 11. I also finished my nursing degree in 2006 - which had been a goal of mine since I was 18. Tough going but I DID IT.

When my twins were born I had a very sore back for a couple months afterwards which didn't seem to want to go. Saw my GP and after Xrays and scans they found inflammation in my sacroilliac spaces. Referral to rheumatologist saw some more tests being done and initial management with medication. This made me feel like I had a constant headache which I wasn't happy to settle with so I stopped the medication and didn't go back. I figured that I had to take everyday as a new day and try not to overdo it.

That is until 2008. I guess 4 years of a degree, running around being a mum and working took it's toll. My back got worse and I just couldnt manage it anymore and intervention was needed. I returned to my rheumatologist (with my head held quite low) and new medications were given. They worked but the side effects were not pleasant. My hair thinned, I bruised, my memory wasn't crash hot and the weight gain was horrendous. 20kg in 6 months. EEEEKKKK!!!!!

So the GET WELL and WEIGHT LOSS journey began and who knew there was going to be some added benefits along the way.

Stay tuned!!!!!! The story will continue. I promise :)