The Plateau

Some of you might have forgotten that this unsung South African blogger is still practicing Project 10. Yes, I’m not there just yet.

To bring you up to speed, over the past 4 months, I have literally turned over a new leaf – no reference to salad there – to change for the better. To introduce the good, cut out the bad and hopefully reshape my physical appearance to not only present a better me to the world, but to feel better about who I am as a person. I have made reference to many related insecurities over the past couple of months and I’m sure you feel, as I do, that you know me a little better than the next South African web-scribe.

Insecurities...I haz 'em.

There are a couple of things to highlight before I give you an update. To date, I’ve yet to stop smoking. I have not had a fast food meal. I have indulged. I have yet to have a proper fizzy drink. I still am not fond of broccoli. I have consumed alcohol twice, in 4 months.

8 kilograms. That’s it. That’s the sum total of the weight I have lost over the passed 4 months. Please hold the applause because I’m about to get into the nitty-gritty of what it’s been like to not only deprive ones self of everything that has meant something to them, but has literally resorted to hurting myself in prevention of cheating on Project 10. It’s been hard, harder than I ever considered possible. Going out for dinner with friends is no longer fun. Shopping for food has become a mathematical task that now literally drains the life out of me. My refusal of good, wait, let me rephrase that, great food has now become automatic, not because I want to consider possibly indulging in said temptation but because I literally don’t have the strength to think about the tasty goodness that is a normal meal.

...I'm being good, I promise! Oooh...donut!

For the first 2 months of Project 10, I keep a food diary via Twitter. Yes, I food tweeted. It’s a sin, but I felt like it gave me some perspective over my day’s consumption. I will have you know, the online support of the project was overwhelming, so before I carry on, thank you to everyone who tweeted encouragement, strength and inspiration my way for those difficult teething months. Since then, I have remained as focused as I can; avoiding every temptation I can and buying the bare minimum to sustain my body. Don’t worry, I haven’t been starving myself. I’ve checked and rechecked my calorie intake and even though it’s somewhat lower than the average, it’s perfectly healthy.

I've never been intimidated by soup, until now...

Soup.It’s now my friend. I have been lucky enough to have been given a wonderful mother who has, over the years, taught me to make soup. I might not be any good at it, but I can do it. It’s been a “god-send” because if there is one thing I’ve learnt is that soup is both, thinning and nutritious. Single sugars. I haz them. I have been disciplined enough have gradually cut down my sugar in-take to a single spoon of sugar per cup of just about anything really, which only includes coffee and tea. Coffee is my life partner. Before starting Project 10, I wasn’t the biggest coffee drinking nor was I ever truly ever a coffee drinker, nowadays; I can’t get enough of the dark goodness. It’s an incredible substance. If I had it my way, I’d be intravenously smashing the stuff in my face all day. It’s wonderful.

Nom Nom Nom Dave!

8 kilograms. You might think it’s not that much, well, I can tell you now, that the biggest improvement from a personal perspective is a visual change. I curse the day I decided not to take measurements before starting the Project because the biggest improvement is that of centimeters. I need new jeans. They’d literally slide off if I never wore a belt and I jumped up and down while doing my happy dance.

Am I happier? I guess so. I’m actually not sure. Granted, it’s been great testing my strength of mind and pushing my temptation as far as it can go, but happy? I don’t know. Let’s just say this. I’m not there yet and I know that the only way I’m going to get there is to bring back the sergeant-strict-like discipline with regards to what I take in or to do something different. I opt for the latter. From the beginning of the year I decided that I wanted to do something different than the regular stuff-yourself-in-the-gym-and-klap-it-like-a-red-headed-step-child routine and I plan to stick to it and I have come up with the following options:

Yoga – I know, right? So hot right now, especially if I go with that Bikram stuff.

Even doing it right, looks wrong...

Running – the worst possible thing I can think of doing! “But think of all the kilo’s you’d shed!” said the annoying manorexic Dave inside my head.

"Smokey Morrison...on his final lap!"

MMA – Okay, before you slam me with a “jusis, boet hey” statement, just know one thing, I’m a lover, not a fighter. It would be purely fitness. No fighting, ever. *side eyes*

I can already feel the pain...

Right. So…different, right? Right? Yeah, not exactly the most imaginative set of options, but they’re different for me and are all routines I have never tried before.

So, this is where I stand. On the weight-loss plateau, surveying the kilo’s I’ve left behind, determined to leave them there and the change in routine I know I’ll have to embrace in order to overcome what only can be called…The Plateau.