New Beginnings

Can you believe, with the cold front having arrived just in time for the weekend, that Spring is just around the corner?!

Spring has always represented new beginnings and fresh starts, and it's today that I want to share with you the start of my weight loss journey.

Four years ago I ran a marathon.  My life was very social, very busy and very happy.  In the years since then, I started choosing my couch over my running shoes, over my friends, and over my life.  I was unhappy, and as a result of that I became terribly unhealthy too.  It took a long time for me to realise that enough was enough.  But I got there, and I'm so glad I did.

I came across the blog Heart of Iron, the story of a young lady, Gaelyn, who was left with drop foot after an operation.  Despite this, she lost 35kg's and set herself the goal of a half Ironman.  Definitely a must-read if you're looking for a little inspiration and motivation!  http://www.gaelynsheartofiron.blogspot.com/

Gaelyn has started her own 'weight loss and lifestyle caching business', A New Weigh, and at my moment of clarity was offering a 12 week Fat to Fit challenge.  At the very last minute, after a few email conversations with her, I signed up.  No further thought, no doubts, no question about it.  This was my opportunity and I took it!  I had the weekend to stock up the fridge with healthy food, and prepare myself for the 3 months ahead.

On the Sunday before Day One, I did the fitness test set out for us.  An hour run/walk and some other exercises.  Thankfully I did the exercises before the run, because otherwise I may have died trying!  I don't even think I got to 15 push ups!!  Everything was a great effort.  After jogging/walking for an hour I actually phoned someone to fetch me from where I had got to!  There was just no way I could get any further (I had only gone just over 6km's).

What sort of food we ate on the diet?  Good, clean food! It's not difficult, no unusual ingredients or difficult recipes.  We got a list of all allowed foods - and if it's not on the list, you cannot have it!  Simple as that!  This also got me back to cooking every night, something that had become just another chore in life, that I had previously loved doing.  But I got creative, got inspired and started loving being in the kitchen again.

ANW Approved!! Source

What I loved more than that, was running again.  I cannot describe the feelings I got from setting off on a run from home, which starts with an awesome downhill.  And even the feeling I got every time I went back up that hill to get home.  I'll admit the first few times were tough, I was out of breath, hot, sweaty, and very uncomfortable.  But every single time I ran a little further before having to walk.  Every single time I felt elated when I got to the top.  Every single time my muscles burned on the way up, I imagined my butt getting smaller and smaller and it kept me going.

In my first week I lost almost 3kg's!  It felt awesome!!  And each following week I continued to lose kilogram after kilogram, and with each one, I could feel myself blossoming, my confidence growing and I was finally returning to the happy and healthy person I once was.

Other than the diet plan, and updated workouts every two weeks, Gaelyn set us little challenges along the way to help us understand our worth (at any weight), to appreciate our good points and to enjoy the little moments in life.

We also had a whatsapp group with all the girls doing the challenge.  On a bad day, these girls were therapy, and on a good day, cheer leaders.  Now my close friends know the level of my irrational disdain for whatsapp groups, but I knew that I would need support along the way so I stuck it out, got used to it, and now I still miss having those girls being present every day.  I'm not about to jump into every group conversation I can find, but I did love that group (although I was definitely one of the quieter members).

A New Weigh is not just another diet, it is a lifestyle adjustment.  Up until just before my operation, I had lost over 15kg's.  Unfortunately after surgery I have not been able to stick to the program, so have put on a sneaky kilogram or two.  But I know that as soon as I can, I'll be eating the right stuff and doing the exercise I can, and I know it will work!  I don't have too much to go before I reach my goal weight, and I cannot wait to share with you all when I have.

Before and After - I never thought I'd show anyone these pictures, but I'm so damn proud of them!!

You don't expect your face to change quite so much, it's incredible!!

At the halfway mark, my fitness test results were definitely a lot better.  I ran exactly 8km, which I was very happy with, and was hoping to be able to do 10km by the time the 12 weeks were up.  Unfortunately my foot had other plans and started getting incredibly painful 2 weeks before the final fitness test.  But I plan to get back out there as soon as possible after recovery.  I have a big goal coming up at the end of November!  More on that another time.

For more details about A New Weigh, contact Gaelyn.  Let her help you transform your life!! 
www.anewweigh.co.za or www.facebook.com/anewweigh

Have a happy weekend.  Keep safe and warm.

Peace & Love

Claire
xx

P's and Q's

If you're headed for surgery, or have any sort of injury, you'd best be sure your manners are up to scratch.

You're going to be saying please and thank you a whole lot!

You can only imagine the list I had made up before going into surgery.  I pretty much figured I had thought of everything.  What I had not taken into consideration was how little I would be able to do for myself afterwards. 

Hopping around on crutches means you can't carry anything.  Something as simple as a cup of coffee becomes an Olympic event of maneuvers and stretching to simply get yourself and the coffee to the couch.  Food is brought to you, drinks are brought to you, and opening doors becomes training for contortionist camp.

So yes, you will be asking people to do the most simple tasks for you and saying thank you over and over again.

Don't get me wrong here, I am so incredibly grateful for everyone who helped me in any minuscule way over the past two weeks.

My recovery started at my Aunt and Uncle's place in Hilton, now dubbed "Cripple Creek" as that weekend they saw a few cripples come and go.  I was discharged from the hospital at the unlikely hour of 9pm - apparently not out of the ordinary for Midlands Medical, and I'm just glad I didn't have to stay over.  So I arrived at Cripple Creek late but still got a wonderful welcome and a hearty meal.  The weekend continued as such with lots of waiting on me and lots of thank you's along the way.

Dressing Changes and Male Nurses ;)

I went to my parent's place on the Sunday, my resting place for the following two weeks.  And if you've read previous posts you'll know that my Dad, with a broken ankle, was also on crutches at the time.  This made for a very interesting time.  And trust me, if you go somewhere with two people on crutches, you get a lot of strange looks!  My poor Mother has spent a lot of time running around the needs and whims of two hop-alongs.

The two of us, in all our glory!

For the first five days I was on high strength anti-anxiety medication, which confused me greatly to begin with.  But once it was explained that these dull your nervous system I understood.  And the day after I stopped taking them I understood even more.  That's when the real pain kicked in!  Unfortunately though, they cannot keep you on those meds for too long otherwise you'll have to be weaned off them because they affect the chemical functions in your brain.  I'm not that big into medication at the best of times, and prefer my body to take it's natural course through aches and illness, so taking pain meds three times a day made me me feel quite ill.

My fourth toe seems to be the one taking the most strain.  It feels almost as if I've stubbed it really badly and aches quite a bit, sometimes manageable, sometimes not.  I get random shooting pains through my foot as the nerves try to figure out what's going on.  But they are brief and subside fairly quickly.  The underneath of my foot and down the side are very sensitive to touch, but otherwise fine.  And I am only able to put very little pressure on the ball of my foot.

Two weeks after surgery my Doctor is happy with my progress and I am impressed with my recovery so far.  I have read a few accounts of recovery after Neuroma Removal, and definitely count myself lucky.  The only real issue is that my "dissolving stitches" are not dissolving!  Oh well, back to the Doc on Friday to check progress on those.

The pictures of my foot are not particularly gory, but not all that pretty either, so I have left them for last (if you don't want to see them, close this window now!).  They are in order of recovery at random times during the past two weeks.

Still stained from the iodine... Delightful.

Comparison of feet.

Toes still very bent out of shape from being strapped up.

A better angle to see the swelling.

Finally my toes starting to look normal again!

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading.  I wanted to document my recovery for anyone else searching for more information before going through with it, as there's not a whole lot out there.

Take care of yourselves.

Peace & Love
xx

Surgery Day

Greetings from the couch! 

Foot up, resting after surgery to remove a neuroma from my right foot.  A Morton's Neuroma to be specific, in it's most common position between third and fourth metatarsals.  I wont bore you with all the details, but in short, it's the inflammation of a nerve that rubs between the bones in your foot and hurts like hell. 

The decision to have the neuroma removed was not easy, but in the end seemed the best option if I want to run again pain free.  The process leading up to surgery, I must say, was possibly more painful than the operation itself.  Finding a decent surgeon who wouldn't charge me the earth, getting Medical Aid authorisation and all the paperwork that ensued, was stressful and time consuming. 

But I got through all that and found myself sitting in the Day Ward at Midlands Medical Centre last Friday awaiting my time on the slate (some hospital slang I picked up during my time on the inside).  From there I transported up to the surgical ward in a wheelchair - tons of fun, but i guess that's only when you have the option of stepping out of it at the end of the day.

Foot painted with iodine and wrapped up like a present for the surgeon.

I had a fairly long wait before surgery time, but I had my brother Daryn there to keep me company and the added entertainment of changing into the super sexy regulation hospital underwear and gown, awesome hat included. 

Ready to go, check out my cool style yo!

Finally the time came for a little 'pre-meds' and from that moment my brain to mouth filter left me completely!  I'm not sure whether the theatre nurses were amused or annoyed by my antics, but I like to think that my little performance added a little brightness to their day.

The hat provided much entertainment, especially when I realised all the theatre staff were sporting ones of the same fashion, such a trend-setter!  I did ensure at this time that my surgeon would be cutting the top of my foot and not the bottom (I've heard that this is important, but hadn't seen the doctor until then) and persistently asked that he please take a photo of the neuroma once he'd cut it out of my foot.  This sounds really gross, but after having Harry live in my foot for so long, I kinda wanted to see the little sucker before he ends up in a lab or incinerator.

Coming out of anesthetic is always great: the confusion, the grogginess, and in my case always a few laughs.  These are a few situations that actually happened:

Me:  What's the time please? (pure presumption that my manners remained intact).
Male Nurse:  Twenty to three.
Me:  Are you sure?  That clock over there says twenty to two, was the operation that quick?  (I was taken into theatre at around 1:30pm)
Male Nurse:  I'm quite sure, that clock says twenty to three.
Me:  I think I'm going blind!
Male Nurse (with a bit of a chuckle):  No, you're just coming out of anesthetic.

Before being given a painkiller, directly into my right butt cheek, I did have a moments panic when I realised my hat had been lost.  And also moaned at the Anesthetist for not giving me any warning before putting me under.

The 'after' picture - not pretty.

Back in the ward, while taking my blood pressure, the arm cuff kept coming undone on inflation, and I tried to convince the nurse that it was because I have the strength of the Incredible Hulk.  She was trying to complete paperwork and was not all that amused by my antics, but a Sister came along and played the game with me, saying she could see how strong I really was.  I'm thankful for her sense of humour.

Daryn was right there when I was wheeled back into the ward, but once we'd been informed I'd only be discharged at 9pm, I told him to head out and come back later.  I was feeling pretty drowsy and expected to sleep the whole afternoon.  As he left we had this conversation:

Me:  Why do you have 'HB' written on your hand?
Daryn:  It says 'H-8', your ward number.
Me:  Oh yes, HB is a pencil, H-8 is my ward number.

 Painkiller induced smiles.

At precisely 9pm I was discharged and Daryn drove me to 'Cripple Creek Rehabilitation Centre,' more on that in my next post on recovery.

My current view

Wishing you all a happy and healthy weekend.

Peace and love.

xx 

When the real holiday began...

Unfortunately due to our very delayed arrival in Harare, we didn't get to see much of it - pretty much just the Pick 'n Pay, bottle store and a pizza place... So at least we got to the important parts.

After a very chilled and early night, we got up early the next morning to head to Lake Kariba.  The houseboat which was our final destination: "What a Pleasure" and indeed it was!  All I can say is that if you haven't been to Kariba, trust me, you underestimate the sheer size of it.  There are times when you look around and all you can see is water.  It is breathtaking.  When you can see land, you get spectacular sightings of elephants, hippos, a few crocodiles and plenty of bird life.

In 2005 I worked at a game lodge in Sabi Sands for a few months and was spoiled for choice when it came to game viewing opportunities.  That kind of life takes root in your soul.  I'm the type of person who would stop to take a better look at an impala or zebra, the more common animals others would pass by.  Any chance I get to witness animals in their natural habitat, I'll take.  The fact that I live in a greener part of the city and sometimes see a buck or a mongoose on my way home makes my heart soar.  My point being, that floating across the water, watching elephants and hippos just go about their day, was extraordinary!

We had three crew on board.  Goodson, the Captain; Maxon, the Chef and Moses the deck hand.  All three absolutely fantastic in their post.  The service received was akin to that of any local 5-star hotel, and the food Maxon prepared was excellent.

If you're a very activity driven holiday kinda person, then don't go on a houseboat! But for those that want to relax, read a book or do a cross word and just enjoy doing nothing, Dolce Far Niente as the Italians would say (I love that phrase), then a houseboat is the ideal holiday.  For me, it was perfect!

Fishing is about the only actual activity on offer, and we did plenty of it.  Most days we were not so lucky, but on the last evening, all the girls and one of the guys decided to make one last go of it and came back with a net bursting at the seems!!  Poor Goodson, who had driven the boat didn't get a moment to even sip his Coke between baiting our lines and taking off the fish.  Shrieks of joy echoed along the water, attracting the attention of some hippos who got quite close.  It was a joyous occasion and we watched the sun go down as we sped off back to the houseboat to enjoy fresh fish for dinner.

The horrid bus trip forgotten, reality miles away, Kariba is a really special place.  Sleeping under the stars on the deck, waking up to spectacular sunrises, the call of fish eagles throughout the day.  And of course some wine, some gin and perhaps even a raucous game of Kings, makes for the most incredible adventure.

Oh the nostalgia... That was the story to be told before I head into theatre tomorrow to have my neuroma (now named Harry) removed.  Can't say I'll miss him much.  Have a happy weekend everyone!  I'm just hoping for good meds!

Peace

xx

Forever Friends

I just love stories of how good friends meet.  The one of how I met Charmaine is one of my favourites.

In my matric year I announced that I was off to Varsity College PMB to do a Diploma in International Hotel Management.  My dearest friends, who's family resided in Malawi at the time, told me that another friend of theirs was doing exactly the same.  I thought little of this at the time and went about finishing off what had actually been a great high school career (in hindsight, of course).

On the second day of Orientation Week at VC, we headed off to Water World in Durban.  Yip, I'm that old... uShaka had not even started construction yet!!  The most amazing and wonderful Falan and I had some brandy, awfully sneakily hidden in some ice tea bottles and were having a grand time!  While taking a break from the water slides and probably chatting up some poor guy or the other, we were just lying on the grass in the sunshine, and I overheard a girl mention that her family were from Malawi (at this stage we had not yet met any class mates).  With the brandy dulling what little brain-to-mouth filter I have, I looked her square in the eye and said "You must be Charmaine!"  Can you imagine?  Just arrived in a new country, knowing no one and some random, tipsy girl knows who you are!  If I was her, I would have moved away slowly and pretended not to know what the tactless girl was on about.  But not Charmaine.  Once she got over the surprise and I explained how I knew who she was, she obviously decided that although a little crazy, I wasn't any sort of psychopathic stalker, and of no real danger to her.  And I am so very glad.

I once read that soul mates do not necessarily have to be lovers, and I truly believe that I found my soul mate in Charmaine, who later became known as Sparky (it's a long story).  We had so many similarities, but enough differences to make life interesting.  Parties were never dull, and study time was serious business, and for two years Falan and I just about lived on the floor of Charmaine's bedroom at 'The Digs.'  We become regulars at local pubs and clubs an for a little while the world was ours for the taking, and we took all we could get.

Every time Sparky was set to head back home for holidays we would go out and insist the DJ play 'Leaving on a Jet Plane' as many times as we could and sing along as though we would never see each other again. (side note: sometimes she was going by car or bus, but that was besides the point).  Unfortunately the time did come when our next encounter was indefinite, and our world seemed to be coming to an end.  We were growing up, getting jobs, moving on.  Charms was headed to Zimbabwe, where her family had moved to, as she had a job waiting for her there.

The reason, you see, for this introduction to my friend Charmaine, is that now you know how I ended up on a 24-hour ride in the giant tin can of doom on my way to Zimbabwe.  The adventures we had there to be my next post.

Peace.
xx