tracking change

One day, I woke up old, fat, and tired.

Full disclosure: I had also gone to bed old, fat, and tired – I wasn’t the victim of an evil, Rip-Van-Winkle spell. But, for whatever reason, on this particular morning, I came face-to-face with the reality of how far gone I was, and I suddenly wanted to do something about it. I wanted to feel better. I knew it was possible. I knew women my age and older, who had the same health challenges that I had, but who were like virtual Energizer bunnies compared to me.

It’s not as if I hadn’t tried to stay fit. I had spent my forties and early fifties doing Paleo and Keto and Intermittent Fasting and I Quit Sugar-ing. I had tried HIIT training and Pilates and bodyweight exercises. I had been on hormone-balancing programs and spent the equivalent cost of several overseas holidays on nutritional supplements and herbal tinctures, not to mention the GP-prescribed medications for my autoimmune thyroiditis, high cholesterol, and chronic allergies. And I was still. Old. Fat. Tired.

I was so tired. I was tired of trying with little-to-no success. I was tired of denying myself all the foods I liked, saying no to dessert and bread – hell, anything with carbs. I was sick and tired of kale. And kefir. And kombucha. I was tired of trying to grow my own vegetables, or struggling to pay a fortune for organic produce from the farmers markets (no offence to local producers who do an amazing job, and if I had the money I would totes only shop at their stalls). I was utterly tired and ticked off with tracking my symptoms and measuring my temperature and pulse to work out just how completely knackered my thyroid function was. I already knew that my metabolism was as sluggish as a snail hitching a ride on a glacier, and that my gut was leaking like a Trump junior staffer. And I was confused. I had tried so many different things that I had lost track of what was working and what wasn’t, what I should or shouldn’t be eating or drinking or taking or doing.

So, I gave up.

I decided to stop following any diet or lifestyle protocol. I decided I didn’t need to be gluten free anymore, or dairy-free, or sugar-free, or alcohol-free. I ate bread and pasta for the first time in five years. I had ice cream for dessert. I said ‘yes’ to the birthday cake, and to the sugary cocktails. I stopped getting up at five am to get my walk in. I gave up Pilates. I deleted all my workout apps, and took leisurely strolls – if I felt like it.

I’m guessing you know where this is going. After a year or so of this laissez-faire lifestyle, I woke up one morning … old, fat and tired. On top of that I was now scared. I was scared of my escalating state of decrepitude, and of what would happen to me if I kept going the way I had been. Worse yet, I was scared that there was no way to prevent it. I became a frequent visitor to my local GP and had a battery of tests – mammogram, ultrasound, cardiac stress test, x-rays, blood tests. Before I knew it I was on half-a-dozen medications for my various ailments, which included high cholesterol, GORD, hay fever, sinus infection, and eczema. I had become what I had always dreaded. Oh, well, I thought, my future is frumpy, so be it.

When I visited my osteopath – having put the appointment off until the pain was unbearable because I was ashamed for him to see how roly-poly and unfit I had become – I remember telling him, with false bravado, that I had surrendered to my old-lady body, and that I was okay with it. He was too kind and too professional to say anything, but he probably wasn’t buying my phony, fatalistic line. I think he could see that I so wasn't okay with it. But, he just went about trying to treat the results of my poor posture and lack of fitness while I tried to hide my embarrassment with jokes at my own expense.

Then one day, no different from any other day, I changed my mind. I wanted to look better and feel better. I was ready to have one last go at fixing myself, but this time, I would keep it simple. I would go old school, but with the aid of digital technology. I decided to conduct an experiment where I tracked my calories in versus calories out using the My Fitness Pal app on my phone, to see how my energy consumption compared to my energy expenditure. I know, I know, this is deeply unfashionable in fitness circles, and particularly in thyroid circles (if there is such a thing), but I was desperate for something simple that I could implement immediately, and, as always, if I felt my symptoms worsen, I planned to abort and reassess my strategy.

The first thing that happened was that this simple exercise made me more mindful and honest about what and how much I was putting in my mouth. I had nowhere to hide, because I would only be lying to myself. In response to this new intel, I began to choose more nutrient-dense foods and felt healthier, and the better I felt, the more I craved those healthy foods. At the same time, the app data had shown me how sedentary I really was, so I decided to up my exercise game by walking every day, no excuses, instead of only two or three times a week. I used the Map My Walk app which linked to My Fitness Pal, to track my pace, distance and calories burned, and this quickly became addictive, as the more I walked, the better I felt, and the more I could afford to eat while still remaining in calorie deficit. I didn’t starve myself, or ban any particular foods, except the ones I don’t tolerate. I even had ice cream for dessert, as long as I had walked enough to have calories to spare. The app made sure I was getting enough calories, so that my body didn’t go into starvation mode, but I got reacquainted with my hunger signals, because I wasn’t mindlessly grazing and snacking all day long, often out of boredom rather than real hunger.

Like I said, it was old school, and I know there will be those who will criticize my method, but the thing is, it worked for me. And the best part was just how quickly my fitness and endurance improved. I went from dragging myself around the streets like I was wading through cement, to striding up hills and bouncing along like the Energizer Bunny’s mum, full of vitality and with energy to spare. This transformation took about two months, and I am still amazed at how dramatic the change has been in my feeling of well-being. I have lost a few kilos, very slowly, and I am liking the woman I see in the mirror more and more, but it’s not about the weight loss. It’s about feeling young, fit and energetic, instead of old, fat and tired.

I got a Fitbit for Christmas, which has added a whole new layer of tracking to my life, and I’m excited about how fit and healthy I will be when my husband and I go for a long-saved-for trip to Europe later this year. I’m not being sponsored by any app developers, and I’m not trying to convince anyone to do what I’ve done, but if my experience were to, say, inspire you to go for a walk, that would be cool.

~ Lucinda Cotter