Losing It

My mad, crazy journey to health and beyond

Breaking up is hard to do

Breaking up

Dating. It’s a topic I haven’t discussed much here, mostly because my dating history is patchy at best. If you put all my relationships together in one big block, I think it’d add up to about 3 years in total. That’s 3 years of being in relationships, versus 34 years of being single. (For what it’s worth, I am EXCELLENT at being single. I may even consider teaching a course later this year.)

In those 3 years of relationships, I have been the dump-er exactly twice. And one of those doesn’t even count, because he was doing that trademarked guy thing where he acted like an asshole to get me to break up with him. So let’s say once. I’ve broken up with someone exactly once. It sucked.

Today, however, I was forced to endure the suckiness of breaking up with someone again. But this time not with a boyfriend – with a friend instead. Which is a whole new level of suck.

When I started this journey, I would hear stories of people losing friends along the way. And when people asked me if I had ever experienced the same thing, I would proudly declare “No! My friends are fabulous, wondrous, supportive human beings, who have all embraced my journey wholeheartedly, and have been cheering me on every step of the way!” And then I would shake my head and think, “Shame, I’m so lucky that’s never happened to me. That must be terrible!”

Karma, she is a bitch.

Because recently I’ve come to experience what it’s like to have friends who don’t support your goals. Who prefer you fat and unhealthy and depressed and drinking. And who don’t want you to change, despite your life being the better for it.

At first I fought against it. I don’t give up my friends easily (current friends, let that be a warning to you). But eventually I had to concede defeat and throw in the towel. Yes, keeping friendships alive means emotionally investing in them and working at them and being prepared to grow with them. But it shouldn’t be so HARD. Which is why after months of trying, I finally had to force myself to read the writing on the wall, and end things. And it sucked.

It also made me realise that this journey is about more than losing weight. It’s about losing unhealthy attitudes and negative influences too – about clearing the stress and anxiety and AAAAGGGGHHHH out of your life, and making space for the good, the positive and the WHOOP WHOOP! And that’s what I’ve done today.

So here I am. One negative friend on the bench, plenty of supportive ones still in the game. I feel sick to my stomach, I feel sad, I feel depressed. I also feel like saying fuck work, and lying in bed all day watching True Blood and feeling sorry for myself. Maybe later. For now I’ll concentrate on the positive, and the new and exciting opportunities I’ll be able to enjoy now that I’ve created a little more space for them in my life.

As soon as I’ve stopped feeling like such a rancid bitch, that is.


Things that weigh 40kg

Haha, no not me. Maybe one of my thighs, on a good day. But there are lots of other things that weigh 40kg, like:

This evil plate (times 4)

10 kg weight

This gangsta bling (times 40)

1 kg gold

This ridiculous fish (seriously, just look how ridiculous)

40 kg fish

This dude’s guns (I’m guessing)

40 kg bicep

This tree of cute (aawww)

1 kg kittens

This junior lineup (if you’re looking for Keyser Söze, he’s the one in the middle)

10 kg babies

Oh, and as of this morning, my total weight loss to date:


I don’t think I need to say much more than that, so I’ll just drop one of these here:



Conversations with myself or: Surviving Christmas 2014

This Christmas season I did something really stupid. I told everyone on my Facebook group, oh no, don’t worry about trying to lose weight over the holiday season – rather work on maintaining your current weight and just enjoy your holiday and relax. And then I went and set myself a goal of losing 2kg over Christmas. What a gigantic tool.

Why did I do something so monumentally stupid? Because the little voice in my head that won’t shut up kept reminding me that I look like the Jolly Green Giant. Except not green. Fat loss doesn’t take a holiday Nicola, and neither should you! Whakeesh! (What I think a whip crack would look like if it were a word.) Half of me agreed with this (quite frankly, ridiculous) plan. Half of me did not. Which resulted in some pretty interesting internal dialogues throughout the holiday season.

At home:

Bad Nicola: Oh man, out all day. I am TIRED!

Good Nicola: Me too. Oh well, better get the old trainers on.

BN: Wait, wha- why??

GN: Oh didn’t I tell you? We’re walking to the beach and back. Well, half walking, half running actually.

BN: But it’s NINE KILOMETRES there and back! Are you out of your fucking mind?


BN: I will cut you.

At restaurants:

BN: Ooh everything looks so nice! What shall we have?

GN: The hamburger.

BN: What, wha- are you serious?

GN: Yup!

BN: Woohoo, one burger and chips coming up!

GN: Uh-uh, who said anything about chips? Salad!

BN: But the chips are the BEST PART!

GN: No, the best part will be when I bitchslap you for ordering the chips.

BN: I will cut you.

After dinner:

BN: Man that was a good meal.

GN: I know right?

BN: I could really do with something sweet now.

GN: How about I give you a hug?

BN: Not what I had in mind.

GN: Pity, because that’s all you’re getting.

BN: But everyone else is eating chocolate and lebkuchen and mince pies!

GN: Is everyone else 30kg overweight?

BN: I will cut you.

In the afternoons:

BN: Whoop whoop, house to myself! Bring on the PVR!

GN: If by PVR you mean Pretty Vicious Running then I’m all for it.

BN: No, NO! You NEVER let me watch TV!

GN: Tough shit, we’ve got a race to train for.

BN: Wait, wha- a race??

GN: Yup, we’ve signed up to run 30km in the Drakensberg in October.

BN: When in the name of fuck did we do that?

GN: Well I did it. You were off somewhere moaning about not being able to drink.

BN: I will cut you.

All going to script so far. And then things started going downhill a little.

On Christmas Day:

BN: Merry Christmas!

GN: Merry Christmas!

BN: Eat all the food?


At Sandton City:

BN: Ooh look, coffee ice cream!

GN: Mm-hmm.

BN: But it’s our favourite!

GN: Walk on by fatty.

BN: Hi, please can I have a scoop of coffee ice cream?


BN: Oh unclench warden, it’s one scoop of ice cream for fuck’s sakes. Live a little.

Watching movies on my laptop:


BN: UnfhmagraKmln


BN: Qkjnflminhaaarg


BN: Jnrutylipzflargen


At my parents’ ruby wedding anniversary:

BN: Mmm, this menu looks good!

GN: Yup, delish!

BN: What’s “semifreddo”?

GN: It’s fancy for ice cream.

BN: Do you think it has semi-calories?

GN: Haha, no, only full ones. Order it.

BN: Wait, wha- are you serious?

GN: As a heart attack. Order the damn ice cream.


So ja, it wasn’t all uphill sprints and dressing-free lettuce. There was a bit of fun thrown in there too. It’s all about balance. And schizophrenia, apparently. But I have to thank both the dark side of myself and the light. Because not only did they allow me to have a half-naughty, half-nice, all-awesome holiday, they helped me go from this four weeks ago:


To this today:


Yup – not just the 2kg loss I was looking for, but 2.4kg in total. Which means that as of today I only have 26kg to go to reach my goal weight! I know that sounds like a lot still, but it’s a fuck of a lot better than the 65kg I needed to lose when I started this journey.

So high five to Good Nicola, high five to Bad Nicola, and a huge vote of confidence and respect for the Nicola that’s going to smash through the remaining 26kg all the way to Goal Town. If it happens this year, great. If it happens next year, great. But one thing’s for sure – it’s going to happen at some point. And will there be lebkuchen and semifreddo and coffee ice cream along the way? Abso-fucking-lutely.