Mean Ice Cream Man

I went out for my first run since autumn last year today because the weather is finally catching on that it's spring. It was challenging- not because I'm out of practice (I found other ways to keep fit during the long winter)- but because there were so many other people out enjoying the sorely missed sun. My self confidence has fallen a bit, hiding under all the winter layers, so the real challenge was getting out there in all my Lycra glory. I needn't have worried though, because as soon as I took my first step, I felt awesome- I hadn't realised how much I'd missed running.

The biggest challenge was not chasing after the ice cream van like a rabid greyhound after a hare.

It was a reasonably hot and sunny day to be out running, and I was quite red in the face and obviously baking a little bit. Just as I came to the tough uphill part of my run, an ice cream van drove past- and started to drive really slowly just ahead of me. At first I thought he was looking for a place to pull up, and it dawned on me that he didn't even have the jaunty ice cream van music playing.

Then I realised he was trolling me.

I saw his stupid grinning face in his wing mirror and considered scowling back at him, but decided to act nonchalant. Even so, the horrible bastard continued to trail just ahead of me all the way up the hill, until we both came to the top and he sped off, laughing.

I hope he gets lemon sorbet in his eyes.

~Fin~

Short Stories: Awkward Conversations with Strangers (Part 1)

Awkward Conversations with Strangers, like Making an Utter Arse of Myself, is going to be a series in itself, since it also seems to happen to me frequently.

I've recently started exercising a whole lot more (that is to say, for the past year I have been exercising a lot, but I've upped my game recently), and decided today that I'm fed up of having to wash my one sports bra over and over again when I'm basically Exercising with a capital E almost every day- so that's how I found myself in the lingerie section of M&S today.

There was only one other person in front of me in the queue and one person serving at the tills. Once that customer had gone, I went up to take my turn. Just as I got to the till, the SA behind it started trying to re-fit one of those stretchy girdle granny pants things onto its hanger, and told me she'd be with me in a moment. I smiled and told her that was fine.

Some moments passed as she struggled to stretch the thing enough to snap the clippy hanger on, only to have it ping back. I offered to give her a hand, but she declined. I could see she was getting a bit frustrated, so to break the tension I started talking (of course).

"You know, I got stuck in one of those, once," I laughed. The SA glanced up at me, then without a word went back to her task. I decided to continue, because leaving that statement hanging in the air felt a lot more awkward.

"Well, it wasn't exactly that style, it was a full-body one. I tried one on in the changing rooms just for the hell of it once, and I got stuck with it jammed over my head with my arms sticking out from the top. I was stuck in there for so long an assistant actually knocked on the door and asked if I was alright- I was too embarrassed to admit I was stuck, so I just said 'I'm fine, thanks!' Luckily I managed to get it off myself, after a bit more of a struggle."

The SA twanged the girdle successfully onto its hanger and looked up at me like I was some kind of an idiot. "You know, you're supposed to try on the size according to your dress size. For example... " She looked me up and down appraising. "You'd be a size 14 I suppose, so you'd have to try on a size 14. Or if you're a size 16, you'd try on a size 16."

I suddenly lost all of my friendly feels. "I did try on my size. And actually I'm a size 8 to 10."

I'd say we completed the transaction in silence, had the SA not said my bra size aloud quite loudly as she scanned it in- by which time a larger queue had built up.

~Fin~

Weight Loss: Battling with Yourself and the People Around You

'You've put on weight', said mum, circling me like a trader sizing up a horse at market. 'Your dress looks tigher on you than before.'

Indeed, I had put on two pounds recently, from a lapse in my exercise routine, lack of sleep from insomnia (which every so often I'm plagued by) and, more depressingly, a recent lack of self-control when it comes to grapes and strawberries (which are cruel and sneaky and masquerade as healthy fruit when in fact they pack a load of natural sugar). In fact, I've already lost one of those pounds since laying off those tricksy strawberries and buying a skipping rope to force myself to exercise at home when I'm unable to go to classes after work, and I'm on track to being at the weight I was when I got the dress altered by the end of the week- but of course that's not the sort of thing mums notice. My mum being a Chinese mum (and here I may sound a little controversial), few things I do are ever quite satisfactory. Also, when you're a lot slimmer than you used to be, an extra pound or two can be noticable.

Today, I was making some last-minute alterations to my bridemaid's dress, as one of my best friends (the same one who witnessed the whole incident with the chocolate shop guy in my previous entry) is getting married next week (and I'm the maid of honour, woot! But that's not really part of the story, I'm just bragging). I've lost two stone in a year (which is a lot), and had the dress altered recently to fit my new less wobbly and less chunky figure. It was perfect except the shoulder covers were a bit long, so I tucked and sewed them shorter today. I made the mistake of modelling the finished article in front of my mum (who I thought would be pleased, as she was pleased with how well the dress had been altered to fit my size when I had it done).

'You went to all that trouble to get your dress done, and now you aren't even bothering to watch your weight!' She exclaimed, with the inexplicable glimmer of triumph that my mum always gets when discovering something I've been trying to hide and then ticking me off for it.

Well, that's not really fair- I have been watching my weight. I watch it like a hawk all the time. It's just that recently I've watched it go up a little.

Anyone who's ever loved food and successfully been on a diet will know that losing weight's only one battle: the real war is with maintaining it. I've been very diligent (well, mostly- I underestimated fruit and, alright, maybe stumbled upon a few more cakes than usual). So diligent in fact, that some of my friends have expressed a bit of concern that I might be on a dodgy track: but it's okay, I know my brain works in slightly obsessive ways when it comes to calorie counting and nutrition percentages sometimes, but I can also recognise when I'm being a bit too crazy. However my parents didn't seem to trust me, and of course mum was quite vocal about it.

Flash forward to a couple of months ago.

'Only a small bowl?' Frowned my mum at dinner time, glancing alternately between me and my bowl of stew.

'I bought an extra banana at lunch at work today,' I said, knowing it did sound a bit mad but trying to explain, 'so I have to sacrifice a few calories this evening to balance it out.'

'You have to eat more,' scolded mum, 'you're becoming anorexic!'

There. That word was finally mentioned.

I was not, have never been and will never be anorexic. I simply love food too much, and believe you or me, when I'm calorie counting I get the most out of every single calorie. However quite a few times I've been ticked off for not eating enough, despite the fact by this stage I was reaching my optimal weight and was now losing weight more and more slowly.

Flash forward to this afternoon.

'You haven't been eating the right things,' continued mum, whilst I seethed about how someone could tell me off at one moment for turning into an anorexic, and at the next moment for not watching my weight enough. 'Like those three puddings you bought for yourself two weeks ago.'

'What, the WeightWatchers ones?' I exclaimed incredulously.

She's right of course, just not in the way she thinks. It's not always what you eat, but how and when and of course, how much of it you eat. I thought I was being healthy and appeasing my parents at the same time by increasing my food intake a bit, but in the end I misjudged and I wasn't doing anyone any favours: especially not me.

So now I'm back on the straight in narrow, and just in time for my friend's wedding!