Anatomy of a #Plateau #weightloss #frustration

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I’ve lost 38 pounds in the last four months… Don’t get too excited for me though – because it’s been the same three pounds over, and over, and over… and over, and over again.

I made it to 70-pound/5-stone weight-loss whilst I was away at D-Toxd in Spain in September. But I’ve been bouncing up and down through three maddeningly obstinate pounds ever since then. As a word, frustration doesn’t even begin to cover it.

There are a few reasons why this may be happening – and all except one of these are totally or largely within my control:

Eyes off the Ball

2016-07-14 19.11.30I’ve been working on my health/wellbeing and food habits since September 2015.  Healthy is how I eat now.  I’ve given up 99% of added sugar and simple carbs (I have an occasional small portion of potato, the odd piece of bread in a restaurant, a microgram of sweet here and there when it sneaks into a sauce, but no cakes or cookies, donuts or desserts, ever).  I don’t eat ready meals any more, or takeaways, or fast-food, or chocolate – or any confectionary. From where I was, these are all massive changes and I’m sticking with them, because they’ve made me feel healthier and more energised than I’ve felt in two decades. But… … I think I’ve let too many exceptions creep in.

By exceptions, I mean things like:

  • Too much fruit (I know fruit is healthy, but it’s also full of natural sugar and when you’re trying to minimise sugar, there is such a thing as too much fruit);
  • Too much… cheese.  I love cheese. Enough said.
  • Dips, such as hummus, taramasalata and tsatsiki (again, I know these aren’t essentially bad, but they are the kind of foods which you dip, and dip, and dip, and if you’re me, you spread them on crackers too – and that does not a healthy meal make);
  • A few savoury snacks here and there (baked not fried, but these are processed and they are criminally moreish).

Stress and Anxiety

eye-catcher-74182-pixabayStress, anxiety and the associated sleep-loss problems all inhibit weight-loss in a number of ways. Firstly, in times of stress, we turn to food for comfort (and whilst I’m better at not doing this, I still have moments). Then, on a chemical level, physiological and hormonal responses lead to us storing or holding on to fat.  Stress fuels the release of adrenaline (for a fight or flight response), and cortisol, which instructs the body to replenish energy (ie, fat) stores, even though they may not actually have been used for a fight or a flight.  Weary after a night of interrupted or disturbed sleep, it’s all too easy to excuse yourself from early morning exercise. And with lethargy comes the temptation to snack.

I don’t lead a stressful life these days. However, there is something stressing me at present, causing anxiety and disturbed sleep that I could do without, and it’s possible this is impacting my ability to shift from the plateau. It might just be an excuse, but then again… the stressor surfaced in late summer, and that’s exactly when my plateau problem began.

Portion Control

2016-04-03 12.18.36I’ve mentioned this before, that I’m eating a little more, here and there, than I know I should. Still healthy food, but I’ve let a bigger serving, one more spoonful, an extra slice… creep in. I can even see myself doing it, and then I do it anyway. I rein it in, and it creeps back up again – nothing outlandish, but enough to turn a downward sloping graph into a horizontal line, for too long.

Weigh Less, Eat Less

the-suitcase-811122_1920I weigh 70 pounds less than when I started. Yes, that’s great, really, really great. It’s the equivalent of two full-sized holiday suitcases jam-packed with clothes, shoes, accessories and jollops. It stands to reason, I need – in very simple terms – fewer calories of energy, to drag my reduced frame around. So I should be eating less than I was eating when I weighed two suitcases more.  Or…

Move More

… I need to exercise more.  For a while, I’ve been trying to give my gentle exercise regimen a kick up the proverbial, without it taking up too much more time. (I’ve mentioned before, I’m not really in my natural space with exercise – it’s still a chore.) In reality though, with the arrival of winter weather, I’ve probably been doing less, not more, exercise. I know exercise, per se, doesn’t make that much of a dent in matters, but moving more boosts your metabolism and pumps those feel-good endorphins around, which fuels positivity and deepens motivation.  And I could do with a serious injection of motivation just now.

That Extra-Sticky Mid-Life Midriff

We’re told how much harder it becomes to lose weight once those mid-life hormones erect their defences. Men get the beer gut and women just lay on padding all over. My weight has long been high, but it was steady until I hit the menopause and put on a disastrous 20 pounds from one year to the next. I’ve dropped back now to a weight I last carried for any length of time in the last century. But what’s left of the surplus (at least another 30 pounds, perhaps more), seems determined to stick around.

I’m not giving in to the plateau, but I can’t deny, it’s frustrating in extremis, to see the scales bobbing up and down through just THREE stubborn pounds.

The good news is that I’m not on a diet; this is how I eat these days. I just need to tweak the edges, eat off smaller plates, refocus, up the exercise quotient, sleep better, not sweat the small stuff, inject a little positivity and keep things moving, don’t I? Simple.

Darn, but it’s proving harder than I’d like.

Ideas anyone? Any tips and tricks? What do you do to overcome a plateau and kick-start your weight-loss? How do you regain lost motivation or re-boot your exercise regime? 

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The Peril of #Plateau

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I’m stuck.  Again. I’ve been up and down the same three pounds for 10 weeks. I made it to 200 pounds, hit my 70-pound loss marker (a very big deal for me), squeezed out another pound, drifted back over 200 pounds, then back down, back up again, sticky for a week, then down again, dancing around and about the same three frustrating pounds.  And it’s gone on for… weeks.

I decided I might try and go back to the way I was eating this time last year, when I was comfortably losing between one and two pounds a week. I hadn’t revisited my food diary for this far back before. So what did I expect to find?

To be frank, I thought I’d be reminded that I was eating a bit less back then than I am today; I thought I’d be forced to face an uncomfortable truth. I expected to be jogged into some kind of ‘fair enough, I get it’ response; I thought I’d be forced to admit that as time has gone on, I’d let things slide a bit.

But I hadn’t.  Back then, so it seems, I was if anything eating more – and a little more indulgently –  than I am today.

I was still making my breakfast Bircher muesli with sweetened yoghurt (horrors!). I had a couple of favourite pre-made salads and even one or two less processed ready-meals (I hadn’t yet got properly to grips with a change in my cooking habits). I was snacking on cashew nuts and rice crackers, toasting soy and linseed bread. I was tucking into mixed Chinese starters and crispy duck pancakes. I was treating myself to cheeses and pates on a regular basis. I was getting away with all of this, and still losing a comfy pound or more every single week.

So I already eat less. I eat better too; more ingredients, fewer processed items, almost no bread, rice, pasta or potato, no added sugar.  But somewhere in there, if I’m to chip away at the remaining 30 pounds or so, adjustments must be made.

When you think about it, it makes sense. I’m hauling around the equivalent of two well-packed medium-sized holiday suitcases LESS than I was this time last year.  Logically, it’s taking me less energy to simply… exist; and when it comes to any level of physical activity, I’m expending less energy there too.

When I think back to last year, a simple 40/50-minute stroll was quite an exertion, resulting in me returning home with rather more than a gentle glow about me.  I would need to go out on any kind of walk in exercise clothes, and with time for a shower once I got home. My heart-rate from such a walk would be high, my sweat-glands over-active, my muscles twitching from the efforts. Today, a walk is… just a walk; executed in any old clothes, at any old time of the day, and without the need to carry a pocket full of kitchen towel for brow-mopping purposes. The first time I realised I needed to put a jacket ON to go on a walk (rather than strip down to a sleeveless vest, even on the chilliest day), was a joy.

So… two things:

  1. I burn less energy simply existing, so I do need to consume a little less fuel
  2. Without going all gym-bunny (never gonna happen) I need to up the ante a little in the exercise stakes. Walking still, but faster; maybe try that ‘Couch to 5k’ App I’ve been threatening to deploy.

Nothing stays the same. You have to adapt, modify, re-calibrate. Whilst, like last time, it’s been frustrating, getting plateaued, I’m also pleased, as it’s telling me positive things about the impact my lifestyle changes have had on my health and fitness over the last year and more – and that’s all good.

Plateau #frustration

cape-town-456754_1920I’m stuck.  For the last 2 weeks, I haven’t shifted a single pound. I appear to have arrived at a plateau and the frustration is immense.

However carefully you manage your consumption of food and drink, however diligently you exercise, it happens eventually.  The plateau.  The damned, excruciating, bloody-well-not-fair, I-must-have-a-sluggish-colon, oh-not-again-come-on-you-can’t-be-serious, my-scales-must-be-broken… plateau.

The unfairness of it all.

I’ve given up added/refined sugar – totally. I’ve had no potatoes and no bread so far this year, and only a few teaspoons of rice – the wild, brown stuff. I’ve had one tiny weeny alcoholic drink since Christmas. I eat seaweed instead of potato chips. I munch my way through a forest of greenery every week, with no mayonnaise. And I never, ever snack between meals. And yet… And yet…

Okay, so maybe I’ve become a bit lax on one or two little things.  Are my tiny slivers of cheese still a maximum of 20g? Has my little knob of butter in a scrambled egg lunch got a little knobblier than it should?   Was it really very naughty to put a tablespoon of half-fat crème fraiche in a home-made, pure and clean tomato soup? Guilty, m’lud. If that’s all it takes, mea culpa.

But then there’s the exercise. I’ve been building this up and now, instead of a lunchtime 30 minutes, I’m getting an early morning 45-60 minutes (temperatures close to zero) under my belt before I start work, almost every day. I know that’s not a massive amount, but it’s more than ‘Government recommendations’ and it’s about as much as my still ample frame and overworked joints can regularly tolerate. To that, I add Pilates and an occasional half-hour swim. When I weigh a little less – when I can push past this persistent pesky plateau – I will up my game again.  I will… I will…

But in the meantime, it’s a real punch-in-the-gut that this amount of pavement pounding on chilly mornings, and the seismic changes I’ve made to my diet, aren’t proving sufficient to nudge my weight down a notch or two past that horrible horizontal line.

I know. Sooner or later my constitution will reawaken. I might kick-start it with a fast-day. Or perhaps it will be one of those days (a little more frequent at the moment than usual) when emotional disturbance intrudes – the kind of thing that puts your gut through the wringer – but, oh, you know, every cloud and all that.

Eventually… it will pass. Meantime, readers, avert your eyes whilst I throw sugar-free yogurt at the wall and curse my weighing scales.