Shape Up, Princess.

So...when did you decide enough was enough?

It seems a lot of people are on this bandwagon - and it looks as though I'm next.

Time to shape up, Princess.

My friend Tam asked me today if everything was alright. Seems that my post about wanting to return to the homeland was a bit unsettling. At the time I couldn't put it into words...what this invisible pull is to want to return. But after a big chat with my Mum tonight I seem to have come upon the answer.

All things aside (friends, family, familiarity etc) the main crux of it is that Adelaide holds memories of my youth. Adelaide is, or was as the case may be, 'the place'. The place where I got regular manicures, pedicures, facials, hair appointments and gourmet coffee every morning. Where I shopped for shoes and clothes...both in sizes I was proud to wear. I was confident and walked down the street looking at people...not the pavement.

Quite frankly, I didn't give a toss what anyone thought. I was happy to be me.

A part of my brain, which creates insane impulses to leap a plane to Adelaide suddenly, and in complete contradiction to the other half of me (when it sweeps over me at work I look like I'm having a epileptic fit at my desk - the top half of my body lurching forward over my desk, trying to run outside, grab a taxi and rush to the airport - the lower half a dead weight, waiting for sanity to return to the top half) thinks that if I return to this land of never ending youth, shopping and pampering I will return to the size 10, 17 year old I used to be.

Yeah - trust me, it sounds as stupid typing it out as it does when you read it.

I know going back to Adelaide won't turn back time. It'd be freakin' awesome - but it's not going to happen.

So, in order to feel less like a giant heffalump and more like a person I need to get off my butt and get it sorted.

Because as much as Adelaide had all those things - the reality was that I was living at home, I had no bills, I could spend money on all sots of crap because I had no responsibility other than making sure I grabbed my coffee on the way to work so I could earn more money to maintain my flighty lifestyle.

I was not married, I didn't have a mortgage, I didn't have a baby and I didn't have to fit in full time employment and maintain a household in the meantime.
And those are things I wouldn't want to give up - not even to be a size 10 again.

What I DO want is a routine that I can maintain. And I want to be an active parent - not one who sits on the sidelines because she can't keep up. I'm not there yet, but I'm afraid of it happening down the track.

So here I am, admitting to you all that I am NOT happy with my appearance, and that I am going to do something about it.

Which for me is big because having this out there means I actually have some sort of responsibility to actually follow through with it. Because if I don't I'll look like a total dork.

Now, I love what Good Golly Miss Holly has done. She gives you measurements and weight once a week. So I am going to flog her idea and do the same for you...I think it will make it easier...but I am going to change mine slightly to note total weight lost over the time. Because I am not going to focus on what I weigh. It is about shifting the weight and measurements shrinking. It's about my clothes fitting well again and wearing things I would love to but feel too heffer-like to wear.

So, I present to you...the bogan version of myself that dies today...

Total Weight Lost - 0kg

Bust - 104cm

Waist - 100cm

Hips - 119cm

Arms - 40cm

Thighs - 75.5cm

And in doing this exercise I've discovered that using a tape measure from the Guru's tool box may not be the best way to do it. All the same, I haven't estimated anything - I've typed out what the tape said.

I'm going to find my proper measuring tape I flogged from a doctor's convention...it's all doctor-ish and accurate. Or something like that.

So, there you have it. Me in all my heffer-ish glory.

I think I'm going to be sick.

So, tomorrow I will be getting the iPod and I'll be running up and down stairs until my legs burn...and then I'll either keep going or be in hospital with head injuries from tripping on my runners and falling to my doom.

Either way, there will be a loss. Of weight or blood - I'm not sure yet. But I'll keep you posted.