Can I?

extreme ways that helped me, they helped me out late at night...

bank holiday, and of course I'm working. I'm working 14h+ a day, and I lost a few hours yeasterday as I drove Husband to ER (he woke up in the middle of the night with a huge swollen eye that hurt - luckily no big issue, but it was a big scare.

After this dad told me to get some contramal (basically, morphine in drops) just in case he needed it.

After indulging all afternoon in how convenient it  would be keeping some at home (and dear dad promptly supplied me with a prescription), you know, for emergencies... or for when I'm so stressed I cannot fall asleep... or for when I have a neckache... or for when I'm stressed out.... 
      I decided it's better not to buy any (Hubby was much better anyways), got a bottle of wine for dinner and treated myself into leaving work at 8PM and having dinner at home with husband and wine.

What's scaring me is how often I find myself thinking that drugs would help me get through all this. Mind me, I'm really not doing any drugs - I've even cut on the ibuprofen, but that must be a sign on how our current life is not sustainable. We are working EVERY fucking weekend, in addition to long weeks, and needless today, we are working today and tomorrow (bank holidays here).
I know it's 12 to 18 more months like this, but I'm starting to wonder if I CAN make through it.

These words

All I ever wanted was you: I’ll never get to heaven, ‘cause I don’t know how.

Let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things I’ve lost on you, tell me are they lost on you? Just that you could cut me loose, after everything I’ve lost on you, is that lost on you?

My god, these words. Oh, skinny Lucy, the things I lost on you and in the end I don't have you.

Glamour, different story, one of these days

I flew to London last week on Tuesday, under my client insistence that I was vital for their negotiation. I was supposed to be back on Wednesday, and ended up spending the whole week there. From here on, there are two versions of the story. You pick.

We went to dinners and events, got into the VIP area at the Ministry of Sound, with Uber smoothly carrying us from one party to the other.
I felt fabulous, champagne flowed, I barely ate over the week and felt trendy and cool all the time.

Or, maybe, I spent 4 days (and a good part of the nights) stuck into a lawyers' office, negotiating strenuously, stuffing my face with whatever food was brought in at any time, barely noticing whether it was day or night.

Xmas stuff was already everywhere, and although Hyde Park WinterWonderlad park (which I adore) wasn't yet opened, Harrods had already amazing stuff on show, and the first Xmas trees were being set up. I loved hanging around Harrods with my lovely white coat with a white fur neck!

I was hoping to grab one coffee from Starbucks while in London - believe it or not, in one week I never had enough spare time to walk into a starbucks and grab a take away cup. How fucked up is that?

Yesterday my client called to thank me again and say how his whole whole team was impressed with my job, so maybe that makes up for the pound I gained. Maybe?

If Husband and I make it through this year, I think we can make it through a lifetime together.
This is a pic of us that was taken last year on this day.

When I look at it, I think it's the way I hope we can head into the future

Random thoughts

Failure is the reason beyond my silence.
Somehow, I managed to reach 139 pounds (63kg), for a BMI of 22.1.
Quoting the amazing To kill a mockingbird, "Atticus told me to delete the adjectives, and I'd have the facts", so this is the blunt truth.
I don't even know how exactly it happened; probably a combination of weekend binges and too many nights where instead of salad I chose the comfort of cookies and milk. The level of stress has been so high since the end of August that this tends to happen pretty often.
On top, I seem to spend my life in airports, as I'm flying to London and back at least once and often twice a week, to spend the day in neverending meetings where I indulge walker cookies (ginger stems are my passion)
However, making excuses will not change facts, and so I followed the suggestions from a skinny boy that works with me and started this Clean 9 program. The idea is that you start with 2 days of fasting (I'm only drinking a cup of skimmed milk per day), and then you have 6 more days restricting.
I dropped three pounds on day one, which is not bad. I hope to drop at least one more by tomorrow morning.
The program also involves drinking some aloe vera gel (overall circa 80kcals a day), which is so utterly disgusting that it probably helps in killing any appetite for real food.

I managed to fast for three days, follow the program for 2 more, and then started puking. I quickly abandoned the aloe shit, and I'm still stuck at 61.5kg (135.6lbs).

I really need to eat less and, even more important, train more.
If by next year in December I have not managed to enter the Partner selection program at work, I'm giving up this job. Honestly, it's really overwhelming. I did not work last weekend, and it was the first time since August (by "I did not work" I mean I left the office at 10PM on Friday night, had a call on Sunday afternoon, and was back at 8AM on Monday morning, but I did not turn on my computer).

Linguini? Alfredo? what the hell?!

Dear, lovely American friends,
on average, you are adorable, but sometimes I wonder how can you be so delusional?
So please brace yourself for this truth:
No such thing as Linguini Alfredo, or Fettuccine Alfredo exists in Italy.
In addition, Linguini's real name is Linguine

How comes that in 2017 the NYT still reports this kind of recipes and tags them as Italian?

Having taken this off chest, let's move on

after a wedding in the south, a few days of good old style work related stress managed to make me drop 4lbs in two days.
of course now I'll head out for celebratory drinks, effectively fucking all the small progress done so far.
meh

Vacation, hiking, binges and so on

Cape Verte it was.
Sal Island. Honestly? a shitty place, but hey, I did spend lazy lazy hours just suntanning and reading. i needed it. We needed it.
Before that, we went hiking through Simplonpass (in the middle of the Alps, not far from where my family lives).

Hiking was so good that, before leaving for Cape Verte, I bought myself these

(of course the pic is from the net it is not me)

As soon as we got there I realized three things:
i) Sal Island is a shithole
ii) the food was disgusting (wait before thinking that was good news)
iii) virtually everyone staying in the hotel had severe diarrhea

WARNING: things start getting guresome from now on

Now, as much as I sometimes indulge purging (although in these occasions I vomit), due to years and years of big stomach issues when I was a teenager and later, I am fucking scared of eating something that will make me sick.
So.....
I spent one week eating (with no restrictions whatsoever) only two things: fries and boiled white rice.

And now I'm back, 6 pounds heavier. fuckfuckfuck.
Let's forget about those short shorts, okay?
It's time to restrict and get back to some serious training

conversation on a working saturday

"Should we plan a vacation?"
"We are so tired and exhausted we probably should. Let's go somewhere where the beach is amazing, the sea is blue and everything is quiet"

I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake
the crazy days, the city lights, the way you play with me like a child

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me, when I've nothing but an aching soul?
I know you will
Will you still you me when I'm no longer beautiful?


Lana Del Rey soothes me and at the same time manages to nag something deep inside me

Oh S, my love. I so ache for a vacation with you. We've been working for 5 weeks straight with only two days off.
I so long to be in the sun. I am so horrified at how I look in a bikini right now
This is so wrong, but as long as we are together I'll make things work, I promise

Skinny is a rule (Remembering B)

There's a rule that states: if you don't make love at the third date, you are not sure of yourself
There's a story that says who eats an apple commits the worst sin ever
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (something's bringing me down), and that Skinny is a rule, that you tried to explain to me, I'll never forget it. I remember the street where I promised I was going to change, but I did not understand how, how do you do it.

There's a rule that states you need a tight gap to be more normal
There's a story that says you need to be skinny to be happy
There is a rule that states that if you need dieting you are a wrong person, like me
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (it's bringing us down and down), and that Skinny is a formula you tried to teach me, I'll never forget it
I remember the summer I sworn I would not go there (I would never be fat again), but you never told me if you saved me.
Yes this life is amazing, even though sometimes it brings me down, something brings me down. Maybe Skinny is a rule only you knew, but I'll never forget you.

I didn't start, and I never understood whether you saved me or doomed me, I never understood how to do it, I never understood.


The past is like a handful of dust: it filters through your fingers, disappearing little by little.
I wish that, for one day, I could go back.
In another life, I would do things differently

Earthquake

I step in to the dressing room and strip off my trousers.

It's not simply warm, it's hot. This summer is taxing all of us in this hot, sticky city. I used to love that at night the cold never came during the summer month, and I could simply spend hours hanging out in denim shorts or in a nice short dress, revealing my lean, long legs.
I come from the Alps, and I used to think that it's not late until it gets cold, so when I moved here, 18 years old and 110 pounds, with a BMI barely touching 17.5, I loved that part.
It's true that climate has changed since then, and now we have 38° (100.4F) at 7PM.

My whole body is breaking a sweat, which is not strange as I decided again to walk the 4km from work to home in this temperature - then again, this helps shaking off the stress from the day (and, a little nagging voice adds in my mind, it only helps minimally with the carbs I gorged at lunch).
I feel strange and suddenly I wonder if a minor earthquake is happening (that's not so uncommon here, and nothing to worry about). But no one seems to notice in the shop, so I grab the size 4 trousers I have to try on and finally realize my legs are shaking.

I sit down and think if I walked too much in the heat or something. I take a big breath and no, my blood pressure is not low. It's anxiety. It's anxiety that I may not fit in a fucking pair of what we call size 42.
I'm fucking 35 years old.
And I stumble in fear that a stupid pair of trousers I don't even like may not fit. And I'm not even in public. I need to get hold of myself.

What do they see

We attended a wedding in Portugal, husband and I. Weather was horrible until minutes before the wedding, then turned into sunny and windy and everything was awesome.
I was nervous as a lot of former colleagues were there and I kept thinking "They'll see how fat I've become".

The bride was cute and skinny, with a lot of bones showing on her back.

And then, suddenly, one hour or so into the reception, I realized that the photographs had been all over me all the time. Like seriously, they later posted 4 pics of bride and groom on their website... and two of myself. Granted, no Victoria's Angels were attending, but still.

Husband and me, ready to go to the wedding. The dress hides my ugly tights thanks God, but the sad truth is that mirror was slimming

random thoughts

Last Saturday we ran 28km, with 800mt gain. (that's 17.4 miles, for you sillies, with roughly 2600 feet of gain)

Then I went swimming on Monday (1100meters, probably 1200 yards), and running this morning (6km on the treadmill, you sillies figure that out on your own).
Can someone tell me how the fuck did I GAIN 1kg over the weekend with all that running involved?

Marine, my skinny bitch BFF is flying in on Saturday from NYC. We last met two years ago and I look like a fat cow
Marina, who is probably 5ft2 for a total weight of 100lbs (somewhere around 158cm for 45kg) makes me feel ginourmous. I love her to pieces, but I kinda feel better that the husbands will be around as well (both our hubbies are big guys).

I miss Marina
I hate her for being so skinnier than me
I hate that she and Jon left us behind when they moved to NYC

I remember those nights of cocaine and champagne, sneaking into one bathroom stall just the two of us with half of the girls thinking she and I had a thing. It was so much fun

fading

As we travel up the valley, the environment changes.
I grew up in the Alps, so I wouldn't say anything is entirely unfamiliar, but this is exactly how I would have imagined Alaska. Days go by, and the river we follow upstream gets smaller but at the same time seems to carry more energy. Its waters, more and more opaque from the sand in it, begin carrying pieces of ice.
The mountains are what makes me feel at ease. Dark and towering over us, yet their presence is somehow reassuring.

Through my past vacation/trekking experiences, I knew how I feel about walking for days (weeks?). Something in your spiritual sphere changes after a couple days. It's no longer about "what time is it". Rather, how long 'till night falls, or how many more days will we continue.

Even the first snowflakes do not seem to trigger anything but subdued admiration.

All my family, all the ones I care about are united in this journey, and there is no need to talk about feelings. Sensations are enough.
I enjoy the cold, the warm sum on my face at noon, the sight of a bird stretching its wings before it takes off.

The realization comes slowly, it builds up in my mind day after day and when I finally understand why we are all here, I can't say I'm surprised.

We are walking to my death, and it is soothing in a way to know that everything will be okay, I'll die and the river will take me (?)

When I wake up, I'm not even sad.

bikini time

truly yours, shamefully showing her belly pouch in Mykonos last weekend
(I'm the one on the left, and yes, the lipstick looks like I just kissed a Smurf)

Self distruction thoughts

Walking towards the office in a gloomy weather, my thoughts are running freely, and it almost startle myself to realize the following have crossed my mind in the past few minutes:
- I should get myself some weed to smoke in the evening
- Do I have enough Ibuprofen for today in my bag? oh yes, I have 2 600mg packets, so I'm safe
- I'm totally fasting today
- Wouldn't it be awesome to have just a tiny bit of cocaine?
- Then again, Contramal [morphine based pain killer] would help me improving the quality of my sleep
- I would die to get thin. Look at that reflection on the window.. I look like a pig

For the sake of clarity, I may be using more Ibuprofen than what's ideal, but besides, the above are just thoughts. I'm working 14 to 15 hours a day, but I'll get a grip. Eventually.

Wolves

Animals are not that different from us.
It took me so many years to realize something so obvious.
We are running together and he is so my Alpha male, I can totally be his she wolf.
We've been running for 20km side by side and there are 4 more to go. I hurt. My hip hurts inside, my inner tights suffer from chafing and all I feel is the joy of running under the spring sun with my male
And for the first time I understand animals hurt like us when running but also they enjoy the sensations. And we can do the same

Back to the future

So
I'm back to working in financial consulting.
More precisely, the firm I joined is the same one where I worked between 2004 and 2005, right after university.

Everyone is so young and skinny... It's both depressing and motivating you know?

Some of the young girls look up at me, professionally speaking. I look up at them, they have skinny legs to die for.

And the guys.... Well let's keep that for the next post. Which will come soon because I'm back to the old me.
Xoxoxox

I hurt myself today
to see if I still feel
I focused on the pain
the only thing that's real
the needle tears a hole
the old familiar sting
(....)
What have I become? My sweetest friend
Everyone I know, goes away in the end
And you could have it all, my empire of dirt
I will let you down, I will make you hurt.


Today my mind is on Johnny Cash.
Meanwhile I changed job, gained weight, but I will further develop next week

Stay strong lovelies

Running

Well at least all this training is showing in terms of running results.
Did 18km yesterday (with a bad bronchitis) running at 5'31'' per km, and I wasn't even tired at the end. I mean, I could have run way faster, but after the first 10k my husband wanted to slow down and I preferred running with him than sprinting ahead.
In terms of weight - blah.
I seem forever stuck between 60 and 61 kilos.

All the rest sucks right now

Lucy at the gym

Do you remember that ana song?

Lucy at the gym
she's there everytime I go
and I don't go that often
so she must live at the gym.

This is how my coworkers talk about me, lately.
I currently have two subscriptions to two different gyms. At one I go with Husband in the morning; at the other (next to the office) I go over lunch break.
I'm training 7 to 9 times a week. Running, swimming and HIIT/Tabata. Fuck I even got a Personal Trainer.
I have about one month to waist (hopefully by mid March I'll have a new job): let's make the best of it right?
Also it's the only thing restraining me from losing it completly at my current work.

Keep on Lucy, keep on working working.....

Hit the gym

How can you leave me standing,
alone in a world that's so cold
maybe I'm just too demanding
maybe I'm just like my father: too bold.
Maybe I'm just like my mother:
she's never satisfied.

What a complete, utterly total fuck-up.

only possible next thing to do: hit the gym. again. and again.

(you know that they cry)

Fuck it, fuck me

I've been demoted at work.
fuck everything.
I'm going to get drunk, and then on Monday I'll  look into going back to consulting.
What a bunch of fucktards.

Fucking proud

slowly getting back to eating, and successfully avoiding uncontrolled bingeing after fasting.
Had some regular food last night, with no damages (the scale even awarded me with a small loss this morning).
Fucking proud of myself. I need to do this more often.

Day Four

My hands are shaking. I did train last night, but this morning I gave up running, as I felt the danger of passing out and/or embarrassing myself by vomiting (and thus exposing my fasting to my husband) was concrete.

On the sad side, I've only dropped 2kg (just a little over 4 punds), and I was hoping for more. Granted, I did have a bowl of steamed spinach last night, and I'm planning to have another one for lunch today - let's face it, passing out at work isn't an option, but still. Let's hope to see a better number on the scale tomorrow morning.

Back to old habits

Do you remember when you used to fast?

I didn't think I was any longer capable of fasting. The last time must have been in 2011 or maybe even before. Yet, somehow, I've been fasting for 62 hours, and I hope I can go on. The plan is keeping on until Friday night/Saturday morning.

Oh, I had forgotten entirely how deeply satisfying fasting can be!! In case you are wondering, I've had so far two detox drinks (spinach, fennel, celery and chia seeds), and a bowl of green salad (no oil, no sauce, just pure lettuce), which I do consider as fasting. In addition, I worked out twice (gym + running, and one Kayla ITsines BBG workout), and I plan to workout tonight as well (another Kayla Itsines session).

Let's face it, the only reasons I can actually make it are i) my husband is away/working all the time and has work dinners pretty much all week long, and ii) I'm doing nothing at work.

Work, by the way, is so bad right now I don't even want to talk about it.

Well let's see how long I can make it last. I kinda feel younger.

joke of the day

during a meeting with the C-suite today (the top management of the firm), a colleague apparently challenged a projection saying "of course you can wish but that doesn't change things. I wish I was hot, tall and blonde like Lucy's Shadow, but that doesn't change who I am"
:-o

Failure

At the end of December, my boss was demoted at work. As an indirect consequence,  I went from being second line (albeit with privileged access to the CEO) to being third line.
The new CFO is a fat bitch.

Then last Friday, with no warning at all, I was moved from my office to the open space.
I know it's petty, but this was humiliating.

Action plan: the next two months will be focused on training and losing weight (because let's face it, I'm back to 134lbs (almost 61kg)); meanwhile, I'll figure if things work out here or if I'd better find another job. Should I quit, I think I have a couple other options, so I'm not really worried. I just feel I failed - nothing new there right?

New year, old at heart

My subconscious believes I'm beautiful, skinny and about 18 years old. My subconscious knows all straight men that look at me want to have sex with me.
When I was 18, my conscious self had realized the above was pretty much true, but still wanted to test the facts.

At 34, my subconscious still believes the above. The problem is, I know it is no longer true.
I'm no longer young, I'm no longer skinny. I don't want to test if random people want to have sex with me.

I still wish I was young, skinny and desirable.

It's so complicated.

When I dream, I'm always young and skinny. When I'm awake, I always feel fat. I no longer like myself.
I look at fancy cloths and impulsively think they're great and then I realize I'd never fit it.

I'm so tired to have to justify myself for not wanting kids.
I'm so tired of feeling being fat.

I'm tired of fighting with my husband about his excessive drinking and smoking.
I'm tired of being disappointed with myself.