Seeing Results #NewcastleCan

After several months of the scales stubbornly staying still they’re finally moving in the right direction again, and today I was able to contribute my first additional pounds to the Newcastle Can target since June! It’s a relief.

I’d been trying hard not to be too bothered by the scales lack of movement. I knew my body was still changing shape, and I could feel that I was healthier, but it was becoming frustrating. The period of static scales included both a period of ill health and my summer holiday, so the fact my weight hadn’t gone up is a very good thing. But still, it was beginning to worry me.

So why did the scales stick, and what got them moving again? After reading Why You’re Burning Fewer Calories Than You Think I suspect that what happened was by new, healthier body wasn’t having to work as hard. I’d got used to my weekly gym and cardio session, and no longer burned off as many calories as when both were a massive effort. So, the fix should be upping my exercise.

Luckily this happened just as I decided to sign up for the Great North 5K with NewcastleCan. I added walk/running home from work once a week – this week it was for the first time predominantly a run, with a little bit of walking. Instead of a cardio session on a Saturday morning I ran my first parkrun. I went out and walked the dogs, even after running, rather than ask my partner to do it when I’m tired and have already exercised. I switched from a fast walk to a slow run on the treadmill and upped the weights at the gym. You can see the difference in my stats from the treadmill:

22 minutes, 142 bpm average in July

To:

38 minutes, 151 bpm average in August

In short I stopped being complacent and started pushing myself.

I hadn’t noticed the gradual slide into complacency. I was, very gradually, upping the amount I did at the gym, and thought that was enough. I hadn’t realised my body was getting fitter faster than I was increasing my exercise intensity.

Luckily the challenge of the 5k and the regular contact from NewcastleCan kept me on track, by reminding me why I’m doing this. I think if I’d been trying to lose weight on my own a static spell of three months would have seen me giving up.

Fitness isn’t either there or not, it’s a continuous process. So I’m going to keep pushing myself. I’ll be trying to beat my personal best, trying to lift heavier weights, bend further and cover more distance. I’m not stopping now!

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Pushing myself, physically and mentally.

Since signing up for the NewcastleCan wave of the Great North 5K I’ve been running three times a week, either at the gym or locally. It’s getting easier, or at least less difficult. 

I’ve shared some of the things that happen to me while I’m running on Facebook. Highs like the old man waving his walking stick in the air as he cheered me on. Lows like being stopped by preteens who wanted to scrounge a tab (how unhealthy do I look when jogging that they assume I’m a smoker?) Several Facebook friends suggested I should try Parkrun as I’m running. 

I’ve known about Parkrun for a long time, but never thought it was something I’d take part in. I’d read the news stories when a council tried to charge runners, and agreed that people should be free to run in local parks without paying for it, but that’s as much as I’d ever thought about it. Parkrun clearly must be for runners, and I’m not a runner. It’s a similar situation to how I’d discounted This Girl Can because I’d misunderstood the age range it was targeting. Had I made it to the Parkrun website I’d have seen how welcoming it is to all ages and abilities, but I’d never got that far because I was so convinced it wasn’t for the likes of me, just based on that one word “run”.

Luckily word of mouth, or comments of Facebook, got me reconsidering. And as soon as I’d seen the Parkrun website I realised I could give this a go. I signed up last weekend , determined to go along this week. 

I think going to something new, alone, feels intimidating to a lot of people, even if their mental health’s good. When you have anxiety like mine it can become impossible to face new situations. Throughout the week I worried intermittently. I knew I could do 5K, even if I had to walk bits of it. My main concern was that I would be last. It takes me just under 40 minutes to run 5k on a treadmill at the gym, and I was sure I would be slower out in the real world. The previous week the slowest runner at my local Parkrun had taken just under 44 minutes. I worried that if I was last I would never feel confident enough to go back. 

And then I got a news email from Parkrun with a link to this fantastic blog. As well as being impressed with Helen’s determination I realised I couldn’t come last. Until then I hadn’t heard of Tail Walkers, volunteers who bring up the rear at each run, providing support and encouragement and taking that worrisome last place. 

Saturday arrived, annoyingly warm and sunny (I’d hoped for drizzle or at least clouds and a cool breeze, to mimic the air conditioned gym I’m more used to running in.) I drove to the park, and got almost to the start line when I realised I’d left my water in the car. I decided to count the run back to the car as warm up! 

My initial impression walking from the car park was that it was mostly men. Once I was nearer the start line there was more of a gender mix, perhaps women just are less likely to drive there, or to leave it as close to the start time to get there? There were lots of incredibly healthy looking young people, but there were also children, older people, people of all shapes and sizes. Most people seemed to be in groups, or at least to know others. I felt conspicuously alone and large, but kept telling myself that was my paranoia talking, and that I could do this. 

I couldn’t hear the briefing, I was near the back of over 500 people, but it was obvious when people started running. So I started running too. I still struggle with my pace and breathing when running outside, I had to slow to a walk a few times over the 5k to get my breathing back under control. There were other people slowing to a walk every now and then, so I didn’t feel like it was a sign of failure. Generally though I kept running. I even speeded up towards the end!

I was particularly impressed by how supportive everyone was. Not just the volunteer marshals, who were whooping and cheering me on at every stage. Also the other runners. There were a couple of places on the route where runners were going in both directions, and those further on were saying “well done” and “keep going” to those of us near the back. I couldn’t manage supportive words while concentrating on my breathing, but sent lots of smiles to fellow runners. 

At the end of the run I was handed a token and had to queue up to get it and my barcode scanned (my barcode I’d printed off the internet in advance). People in the queue were friendly and chatty. I can see why people had recommended it to me, its a real community atmosphere. 

When my time came through I was really pleased with it. My fitbit had said 37 minutes but I wasn’t sure I’d started it at the right point. My official time of 37min23 is more than 2 minutes quicker than I’d run 5k on a treadmill. Clearly being surrounded by other runners helped me pick up my pace. Now I’ve done it once I’ll definitely be back. 

Pondering clothes shopping, expectations and ethics…

I did something amazing yesterday.

I went into a high street clothing store, found something I liked, tried it on, and bought it. 

If this doesn’t sound that amazing to you it’s likely that you’re lucky enough to be what most retailers consider average sized. I haven’t been for years, and have had to skulk around the plus size sections, buying clothes based on being able to get into them, not whether or not I liked them. If you’ve never had to do this you’ve no idea how soul destroying clothes shopping can be. Even if you don’t already hate your body an afternoon of struggling to find anything you can squeeze into can leave your self esteem badly bruised. Society has raised us that appearance is everything, especially for women for whom clothes shopping should be a treat and indulgence. When you’re too big to fit into the majority of what’s on offer it can be hard to convince yourself that appearance isn’t important. Being able to choose something I like, and buy it from the general stock not a separate range, feels like a massive positive change. 

This is an indication of how the changes I’ve been making this year are making a difference. That small, sustainable changes to my life style do have a big impact on my health and my life. It’s motivation to keep going.
I’m now down to a UK 18, which is at the large end of what most shops consider average size. Although of course all shops vary, I’ve found the difference in waist size between different 18s can be as much as 4 inches, so for every store I’m an 18 in there’s one I’m in a 20. And I’m still too tall for most stores, for trousers or long sleeves I have to go to the special “tall” ranges. 

And of course there are the ethical issues. Refusing to participate in throw away fashion is much easier when none of it fits you! The first things I bought in my new size were pre-owned from charity shops, a lot better for the environment and my bank balance! When I do shop on the high street I try to be aware of the ethical standings of the stores and avoid the worst offenders. I’d recommend checking the Ethical Consumer website to see how your favourite store scores. 

Book Review: Unprocessed by Megan Kimble

Megan Kimble was a twenty-six-year-old living in a small apartment without even a garden plot to her name. But she knew that she cared about where her food came from, how it was made, and what it did to her body — so she decided to go an entire year without eating processed foods

Unprocessed: My city-dwelling year of reclaiming real food by Megan Kimble (from back cover blurb)

It has taken me too long to read this book. That’s not down to the book at all, it’s well written, and informative without being dry or excessively technical. I started reading it a few months ago before my current bout of anxiety and depression. 

One of the first indications I’m getting ill is when I struggle to read. In general I’m a real bookworm, flying through book after book. But when I’m ill I struggle to concentrate for a paragraph let alone a chapter. Reading just becomes impossible.  

Contrawise it’s a good sign I’m on the road to recovery when I feel like reading again. Last week I read two pages. Over the weekend I read six pages. Yesterday I sat down and read the two and a half remaining chapters and finished the book. The return of my concentration is hopefully a good indicator that I’m on the mend. 

I spotted this book in the wonderful Quaker Centre Bookshop last time I was in London. It leapt out at me. I’ve been worrying about the amount of processed food my family eats for some time, both in terms of its impact on our bodies and in terms of the environmental impact of its production. Yet it seems impossible to avoid. Then here was someone who had avoided it, for a full twelve months, I could read about her experience, and possibly pick up some tips. I had to buy it. 

I enjoyed it from the start. It’s clearly well researched and referenced, without the level of excruciatingly complicated scientific detail which puts casual readers like me off. The style is chatty and cheerful. While I try and avoid processed food by avidly studying labels Megan Kimble actually visits food producers, from massive industrial dairies to small breweries and distilleries. She finds out more about how labels can mislead us than I’d ever have known without her. 

I hadn’t started the book with the intention to dramatically change the way I eat. One of the things Megan demonstrates is how much work an unprocessed diet is. I knew that for me completely cutting out processed food wouldnt be practical. But it did get me thinking differently. 

Some of Megan’s conclusions shocked me. Considering dairy for example:

I try to consume less, but better. By better, I mean whole — I eat eggs with all their yolks, milk with all its fat, cheese with all its curd. Not only do fat molecules help your body to absorb the nutrients in mill, but also fat is delicious. Fat fills you up, so its easier to eat less of it. 

Unprocessed: My city-dwelling year of reclaiming real food by Megan Kimble

 This is so counter to everything I’ve been told about low fat that it seems positively revolutionary. And I don’t know if I could do it. I’ve never had whole milk, unless they gave me whole milk at school in the 1970s (until it was notoriously snatched by Thatcher.) Its been semi-skimmed or skimmed all my life. Maybe I should give it a try?

In other areas her experiments in processing he food herself led her to realise why communities and eventually big corporations developed, as the time and effort taken to produce food was better spent when sharing roles. But the soullessness of these massive corporations is evident, churning out bland additive-filled food, caring for their own profits over their customers health, causing damage to the environment and seeing animals as commodities rather than living creatures. There are lots of good reasons to avoid processed food.

One of the compelling reasons for Megan, which she quotes more than once in the book, is the realisation that we as consumers have power, and can make changes. In the UK free-range eggs and various Fair Trade products are now generally available, all due to customer pressure. 

For me, living in the north east, one of the most deprived areas of the country, the argument about investment in the local economy also resonated. If I spend £100 on food at one of the big supermarkets most of that money will leave the region, going instead to shareholders and parent corporations. If I buy locally produced food with that £100 much more of it stays in the region, supporting the local economy. 

Unprocessed food is more expensive though, and we all have to decide where we spend our money. Whether its £5 or £50 it will make a difference. I try to buy organic and unprocessed, but its a fine balancing act between what I want and what I can afford. I often have to compromise.

If I had to have a negative, and its a very unimportant negative, the book was very much embedded in the American systems of agriculture and processing. This is only natural, it’s where it was written and the audience it was initially written for. But it let me wondering whether things are the same here, and how I would find out. And she just did food, a mammoth task in itself, but what about the chemicals we have around us all the time? Toiletries, cleaning products, plastic. I had unanswered questions. However I think inspiring me to look further into something is the mark of a good book, not of the author missing something out. 
All in all a good read, and one I’d recommend. 

You can visit Megan Kimble’s website to find out more about her year unprocessed. 

Trying new veggies: Pak Choi #NewcastleCan

My quest to eat helthier continues! This weeks veggie bag included another new to me veg, pak choi. This one I did at least recognise, but I’d never bought or cooked it before. Luckily a quick trawl of Pinterest turned up several recipes, and I decided to adapt this Stir Fry Pak Choi recipe.

I doubled up the ingredients, as we have 4 adults in our house. I was using what I had in, so substituted rapeseed oil for the sesame oil in the recipe. I also omitted the chillies, as both my son and I have no stamina when it comes to spicy food. As I was cooking a main meal rather than a side I added noodles too.

As the cooking time was really short I got myself organised and prepared everything before I started cooking. There wasn’t much to do, chop the garlic and ginger, separate the stems and leaves of the pak choi, and mix the soy oil.

All prepared!

Cooking was quick..

A couple of minutes for the garlic and ginger.
Another couple of minutes with the stems…
Add the leaves and carry on stirring for a couple of minutes more.

I added the noodles at the same time as the stock and soy oil and upped the amount of vegetable stock to 800mls. Let it bubble away for three or four minutes until most of it had absorbed. And voila.

Finished stir fry.

Quick and tasty. It used slightly more oil than most of the healthy recipes I’ve been trying, and because of the soy sauce slightly more salt too, but well within healthy limits. There was some initial reluctance from some of the family, due to the pak choi stems resembling celery. After establishing it didn’t taste like celery they got stuck in and pronounced it very tasty and definitely a recipe I should try again.

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Newcastle Can is the project I’ve signed up to which is inspiring all my healthy eating and exercise. It aims to get the city healthier and help residents lose 100,000lbs over the year. To find out more click here

15,000 steps and a slice of cake before lunchtime. #NewcastleCan

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.

Ford Prefect*

Last night I set my alarm for 8am, which is not usual. For me Saturdays are a time to catch up on the limited sleep I get through the week. 

My partner is the sort of person who can say “Goodnight”, roll over and be snoring within 10 seconds. Sleep doesn’t come that easily to me. I toss and turn, my brain spiralling through repeated anxieties, until finally I fall asleep. I usually get about 5 hours on a weeknight, and that’s since an increase in medication made me sleep noticeably heavier. 

I know this pattern of little sleep on weeknights and long lie ins at the weekends isn’t healthy. I know lack of sleep can contribute to poor mental health. In my case I’m not sure whether the poor mental health causes the problem sleeping or vice versa. 

Anyway, none of that lounging in bed til lunchtime for me today. It turned out my 8am alarm was optimistic, as the dogs decided at 7.30 that they needed to go outside urgently. When my alarm went off I was already eating breakfast and drinking tea.

The reason for the uncharacteristic early rising is that, following last weekend’s Newcastle Can taster sessions, I have signed up for a Dancercise class. And because I had a poor week in exercise and healthy eating terms I’d decided to challenge myself even further, by walking there and back. 

It’s not a particularly exciting walk, mostly through housing estates except for a brief spell across the Town Moor, but its one I’d done before and was confident I could manage on top of an hours dancercising. My map app said it would take 55 minutes, but the app creators have a very poor understanding of how fast a fat lass can walk when she puts her mind to it, so I allowed 45. 

I threw in a couple of short bursts of jogging and made it there in 40 minutes. I’m fairly sure jogging isn’t for me, it takes all my concentration and I can’t keep it up for any length of time, but I persevere because I know it uses different muscles to walking and I reckon every little helps. (Other inspirational supermarket slogans are available!)

The class was small and friendly, and as it was the first we were all newbies together. There was shimmying, hip swinging, bhangra, rock, charleston, lindy hop and even jazz hands. Something for everyone. I struggled to get my arms and legs doing different moves at the same time, but it didn’t matter because I kept moving.

I think part of why I enjoy the Dancercise is that it doesn’t come naturally. While my peers were learning to move to music I was listening to Metallica and Megadeth, neither noted for their dance moves. So it takes all my concentration. And that means those spiralling thoughts, the worries and anxieties that have dragged my mood down this week, have to stop. There’s no room for them when all my concentration is on getting my body to move to the music.

It didn’t feel like an hour. It didn’t feel like a class either. It felt like relaxing and having fun, while at the same time moving and exercising.

Afterwards some of us went for a cuppa and a cake, because, as I’m learning, getting healthy isn’t about never having treats. Its about adding to what you already do, little changes which build and grow. You need to enjoy it, not feel its a chore you’re obliged to undertake.

I walked back, with occasional jogging, and realised I didn’t feel as anxious as I had earlier. On the walk there my brain was doing its anxious, spiralling, hamster-in-a-wheel thing which I’ve struggled to control this week. On the way back I was noticing the sunshine, thinking about exercise and movement, feeling energised. That hour of concentrating on movement had stopped the spiralling. It’s an unexpected way in which improving my physical health can improve my mental health, just giving me a break from my bullying brain.

Before I signed up to NewcastleCan I’d have laughed if you suggested I join an exercise class. I’d have given you loads of reasons why it wasn’t for me, why I didn’t have time, why the very idea was absurd. If youd said I’d be up early, and have done 15,000 steps by lunchtime, I’d have laughed too. And if you’d said I could get healthy and still eat cake I just wouldn’t have believed you!

I’m almost 3 months into my journey of getting healthier, body and mind, and I know now I’d have been wrong back then. I wonder which of my other assumptions about myself will be challenged along the way? 

* In Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams. But you knew that, right? 

Too much chocolate.

I’ve had a bad day. One where everything went wrong and I just felt I shouldn’t exist at all. 

I managed no unhealthy snacks at work, but once I got in I ate chocolate. And more chocolate. 

I put the chocolate away, then got it out again and ate more chocolate. 

I went to make tea, and before I started I ate more chocolate. 


There’s something to be said for not keeping anything that will tempt you in the house when you’re trying to be healthy. But if there hadn’t been chocolate I don’t know what I’d have done. 

I don’t even know why I was eating the chocolate. I wasn’t hungry. Was it a distraction? A craving? Self harm? 

I’ve been trying to break the link between stress and food, but it’s strong. It keeps snapping back into place. 

I’d like to stay I took hold of myself and stopped myself eating the chocolate. But in reality I ate it until I felt sick, until I couldn’t eat any more. 

And then I cooked tea. I made fried rice. I concentrated on finely chopping the vegetables. I tried to forget everything.


The bad day continued. I forgot the garlic and only remembered the prawns at the very last moment. It didn’t matter though, it still tasted good. 

It showed me I can turn a bad day around. I can find a little victory. I stopped eating the chocolate, I didn’t order a takeaway, I made a healthy meal for my family.  


I still feel sad, hopeless, overwhelmed. But it’s when I feel like this that I most need to cling to the little victories.