“Basically, grains are the devil”, says Joe.
Joe is one of the two red and black clad HIIT Fitness trainers who have kindly agreed to join forces and fundraise with Durrell and help us take on the Paleo Challenge, or to “eat as nature intended” for 28 days, if you’ve seen our posters.
Durrell will also benefit from 40% of the joining fees from the Challenge, which is really generous.
HIIT stands for High Intensity Interval Training, and I was about to find out exactly what this entailed.
It was on a dark day in November last year that our Marketing Manger, Kelly, persuaded me to join her on the Challenge. If I recall, I had some oatcakes to celebrate my decision, because it was so much healthier than the KitKat I really wanted.
Flushed with triumph from thinking up the astonishing “Do it for you. Do it for Durrell” call to action also emblazoned on the poster, I agreed (in a room full of witnesses) to take it on. So, this is a blog about the Challenge – if I get through it, that is!
Lesson 1: Dieting is like any change; most people will make excuses and try to avoid it. This includes me.
I have never dieted apart from once in 2010 when I went to the renowned Mayr Clinic near Innsbruck for five nights of exercise, “special drops” (rather calming as it turns out), walking “like a stork” in freezing knee-high water after breakfast, drinking Epsom salts, blood analysis and, most importantly, 1,000 calories per day to eat. No carbs, no dairy, no alcohol. On my first day, I wept and thought about going home. What was I doing stuck in the mountains with no one for company apart from a few books? Then three magic words were uttered: “Just try it” – and I’m glad I did.
I admit that despite smuggling in three Kinder Bueno bars (bought at Heathrow along with some tea bags swiped from the Austrian Airways Lounge and brewed with the help of the giant urns full of boiling water in the hotel corridors meant for your hot water bottle), I stuck to the regime and when I returned, everyone was surprised at how different I looked.
And so they should have done, because it cost the price of a week’s skiing, and was in some ways about as enjoyable (I’m not a terribly keen skier). But yes, I would go back – if I could afford it.
So, back to Paleo, the more simple option, not least because it doesn’t involve flying to Austria or freezing water. On 4th January, Joe and Grant trekked up to Durrell and explained to 12 brave souls the Paleo Challenge principles, and I prepared myself to go food shopping, without going anywhere near the snack or drinks aisles for a change.
At the end of the upbeat meeting, Grant produced the tools of their trade, a set of scales (which also calculate your body fat levels) and a tape measure. I removed my boots, which must weigh about two stone, surely, and instructed Grant in a faintly hysterical voice NOT, under any circumstances, to tell me what I weighed. Or what my hips and waist measured. Or indeed my height, because for years I’ve believed that I am a shade over five feet tall, and it’s good enough for me.
I had more than enough on my Paleo plate without obsessing about what I really weighed, and besides – it’s always good to maintain an air of mystery. I didn’t think Grant should have to measure my chest though, as (a) the tape measure didn’t look long enough and (b) I didn’t want to scar him for life.
My twin sister helped me brave the aisles at the supermarket and we set forth on my mission of food shopping that didn’t involve a trolley full of tonic water, sauvignon blanc and crisps. Otherwise known as “a balanced diet” if you are single.
It’s strange how much panic I was thrown into by just putting different items in a trolley, and if Lou hadn’t been there to tell me to man up, I probably would have cracked and bought pasta and some pies. I do love pies.
Soon I was whizzing round with the aid of the downloaded plan on my Kindle, with a slight first world crisis taking place when I couldn’t find peppers or butternut squash. The shop took a bit longer than usual, but not so long that the yellow “reduced” stickers were being put out as we approached the tills. Green token in hand (I always give mine to the charity with the fewest counters), I loaded up the food and promptly forgot about The Challenge.
Lesson 2: Be honest.
Like most things in life, I decided to start the plan on Monday. I had already lost points, because my pumpkin flatbread with bacon turned into bacon sandwiches, tea with milk and my afternoon snack where I could “graze the fridge” was some Ferrero Rocher left over from Christmas, followed by a Last Supper of belly pork, mashed potato and vegetables.
So not all bad, but then I forgot to mention the gin and tonic I drank, as well as the roasted nuts I ate as well. Isn’t it boring when someone talks about what they have eaten? (Unless it’s a Chocolate Orange, which is different. I can eat a whole one in one siting – much like a snake digesting a whole chicken.)
When I signed up, I thought I might as well go the whole hog and so it was that I found myself seeking out my ancient gym gear and some lovely trainers that I bought for £80 about three years ago. Shortly after their purchase, I gave up my then running experiment, because my I-pod ear buds kept falling out and I was convinced that I couldn’t move at more than 5 MPH without “Hungry Eyes” or similar on at full blast.
Tomorrow it’s time to see Joe and Grant for a half hour workout at 7.15 am. This seemed more likely than the 6.00am option.
Lesson 3: No excuses
Given that I can cross the road to the gym from my flat, there are no excuses.
None. Until this time I had thought of gyms as similar to nightclubs – not somewhere I wished to frequent after my thirtieth birthday. Turns out I was wrong on that front, but it doesn’t mean I’ll be ripping up the dance floor at Mimosa any time soon. Not in my gym gear, anyway.
So, I’ve bought (most) of the food, assembled my gym kit and in the ultimate act of commitment, I have borrowed a blender. I’ll be making my lunch in the evenings next, and laying out my clothes. Actually…it turns out I have done that, too!
Pre Week 1 tips:
- Clear out your food cupboards of all junk food, carbs and throw them out. If you don’t, you will be face down in a carton of Crunchy Nut cornflakes before you can say “Gluten” when you have a weak moment or two.
- Hide all your gin, wine and fizz and pour any dregs of Sauvignon Blanc or similar you may have in the fridge away so you don’t neck it on Day 1 in a fit of desperation. If you can’t have gin, you won’t (if you are anything like me), have the crisps either.
- Stock up on the Tupperware. You’ll need it.
- Accept that your social life as you know it will suffer this month.
Lesson 4: It appears that Paleo changes you, even on Day 1.
I have to get my expected 7.5 hours of nightly sleep now, but I’ll keep you posted. As we say in the marketing attic, Do it for you. Do it for Durrell!
Week 1
Oh. My. God. My first work out was not a success. The highlight was getting to the gym on time. The low point was being unable to run 1 km, and when my running machine turned itself off after 400 metres, (Hurrah!) I stuck up for unfit women everywhere by announcing to our instructor Dan that I too was jumping off – and promptly lurched, gasping, back into the studio for a bit of a sulk. I was also terrible at sit ups, star jumps, burpees and press ups as well.
Week 1 passed in a blur of muscle pain, four early starts for the HIIT classes and an exciting mix and match outfit combinations for them! I also think that the staff at the St. Helier branch of Waitrose thought I had a bit of a thing about the store, as I was never out of the place and spending an awful lot of time caressing jars of coconut oil.
By Friday of Week 1, I sobbed briefly in the exercise studio as my classmates all pounded their way to victory on the treadmills outside. Dan the instructor was kindness itself (always strange how you cry more when someone is nice to you!) when I wheezed on (I love having asthma….) about being frustrated by not being able to do what everyone else apparently could. But here’s the thing, it does get better – you just have to load up on inhalers beforehand – and not give up.
Week 2 – Wednesday 15th January
Lesson 5 – You will relapse
I am a bit bored of the Paleo food, not least because I have raging PMT and I have never noticed or admitted before how much I usually reach for the sugar. I haven’t had cheese, bread, crisps or gin and actually it hasn’t been too awful. That said, I would do most things for a Chocolate Orange at this point.
On Sunday, I crack and have a slice of carrot cake when out with a friend and I almost lick the plate clean. On Monday, I admit this to Grant, who asks me how the diet is going. In a fit of honesty (perhaps inspired by the early start and the fact I am lying on the floor trying to do sit-ups at the time), I confess my sins. “Why?” asks a bemused Grant. “I’m not going into it”, I snap. I flop back down on my mat.
Lesson 6: You will learn to like new things. Even tofu.
Happily, yet another trip to Waitrose results in a discovery of Bounce Bliss Energy Balls on the Gluten Free shelves, which I had ignored previously. Whilst these may sound like something one could buy at the back of Ann Summers (I am told….), they are in fact the closest to biscuits you will get on the Paleo Challenge and they will stop you going crackers in times of hunger at 4.00pm when you would normally reach for the custard creams or similar.
I still have no idea what I weigh, but I feel better and people are saying I am looking slimmer – not sure if this is down to the diet or exercise, or both, but my asthma has also really improved.
Week 3 – Wednesday 22nd January 2014
Lesson 7 – Your enthusiasm can flag
Monday is tough and feels like I am back at week 1 with the exercise today, but it’s ok. I am emotionally drained, but I blame this on the wedding fayre that I had to attend at the weekend, where all around were tiny cupcakes for sampling, which I couldn’t eat. Combined with the constant chant of: “Are you getting married?” I almost snap and stick my head in the chocolate fountain being demonstrated.
I am still spending a fortune in Waitrose, I am black and blue after a couple of unfortunate incidents with a kettlebell and I find that I am enjoying being up earlier than usual and that whatever else happens in my day, at least I have done some exercise and that’s a good start.
Lesson 8 – You can do it.
I’ll write more on this at the end of the challenge, but if a 35 year old asthmatic who loves starchy foods, gin and lie-ins (not always in that order) can do it, so can you. Thank you Joe, Grant and Dan for all your encouragement and not letting me give up. We will see what the final weigh-in brings!
Final installment to follow soon.
Sarah
Sarah Nibbs 