I need another weekend to recover from this week!

This week has been a strange one.

Grandpa died, which was just so sad because he was a beautiful, good hearted man. He passed on a great sense of humour and a talent for singing to much of our enormous extended family. He had a long and good life, but it was awful to lose him, and I'm filled with regret at not having spent more time with him. How true that we don't know what we've got till it's gone.

I had been planning to visit him the day he died. I wanted to sing him some songs in the hospital. He died a few hours before my planned visit, and I was really upset that I hadn't sung those songs to him - a hymn called come back to me, and some old songs like 'don't sit under the apple tree'.

However, on a previous visit I had brought him a little contraption that played 'how much is that doggie (in the window)' when you turned its handle. It was a song we used to play on their pianola as kids (I use the term 'play' loosely as of course you only push the pedals on a pianola - great fun for kids, no piano playing ability required!) and grandpa sang along as I turned it for him. I think it's a funny song to have sung the last time I saw him, but it's connected to lovely childhood memories and at least it was a shared musical moment with him before he went. He said to me 'it's funny how at the end all the old songs come back to you'. I think that's a lovely idea - that when we are nearing the end of our life, a history of songs that have accompanied us over the years come back in a medley of memories.

I decided to sing him some hymns when we went in to St Vincents Private to see him after he died. It was one of the saddest and most wonderful moments for me and I'll always remember it. Nothing I could have said to him as I sat by the body would have told him what I was feeling - that I was grateful for the gift of singing that he not only passed on but also encouraged at family events, especially the family singalongs on christmas day; the fact that the last christmas he had with the family, when everyone knew he was unwell and so everyone came along and joined in the singalong, was the best christmas I could ever have had; the way his gentle grumbling that I was wasting my voice led me to seek out singing lessons again after years of not having that joy in my life; that even though I had lost my sense of connection to the catholic church over my life, that singing was the closest I felt to a sense of reconnection (not with the church but with a higher power); that to sing to him was to honour him and farewell him in the best way I could think to...

The day before he died, grandpa took mine and Bertie's hands, put them together, and put his hand around ours. He then said "stick together" in a strong and encouraging voice. I felt like even though he wouldn't be there to attend our wedding next year, he had just given me the strongest and most beautiful blessing of our relationship that I will ever have. The fact that someone from his generation could take our hands and sanction our union in such a straighforward, caring, accepting way touched me so deeply. It was one of the most amazing moments in my life. I will always think of it, and I hope to incorporate it or honour it at our wedding.

It was like at that moment I felt married to Bertie simply by the powerful sense of love and recognition that Grandad was directing to us.

A beautiful example of Grandad's sense of humour was that after he said 'stick together', I teared up and said 'we will'. He looked at me with a glint in his eye and said 'shut up - stop being so sentimental'. He was so cheeky - imagine making me choke up with tears with the beauty of a gesture, knowing I'd be moved, only to tease me for being sentimental! I love that story and I know that it's one I'll tell our children and keep in my heart forever.

Our niece pulled through her brain operation - there are still issues, and she is still recovering, but the fact that nothing bad happened on the operating table is something for which I'll feel very grateful for a long time. She's just a wonderful kid and I'm glad to know her.

My brain test (EEG) on thursday was an interesting experience. I had electrodes glued to my head. The two women at the Austin who did the test were very friendly. I felt comfortable and at ease about the test... UNTIL they got me to hyperventilate and then put strobe lighting in front of my eyes! hey!

The deep fast breathing made me feel very nauseous. After doing that for what felt like ages, I was unpleasantly surprised by the strobe lighting, which had me flinching and feeling like my head was exploding. I don't know what the test results were (I have to wait until a neurologist appoint in JULY when I get back from Europe...geez), but I do know that I never want to have an EEG again.

And even more news! What an emotional, eventful week! I graduated on Wednesday. Bertie took the day off and bought me a new dress, took me in to the ceremony, helped me run around getting tickets and robes and deakin souvenirs and photos... then my parents arrived (nearly too late to see the ceremony! At least I know where I get it from!). Bertie's mum - my mother in unlaw - came along too, which was very sweet. She's really enthusiastic about education and has been really supportive of my educational efforts over the years I've known her. I felt very special getting that piece of paper, finally. It's taken me bloody long enough to get an Arts degree. I find it so hard to finish what I start, so it was a real feeling of achievement and elation when I walked up on that stage and officially graduated. I wasn't expecting the rush of happiness, but it was very welcome in a week where things were so sad and hectic and stressful I nearly cancelled going at all!

My parents were busy trying to help organise the funeral for Friday, so they weren't sure they could stay for the rest of the ceremony after my name had been read out, but in the end not only did they stay to the end of the ceremony, they came out to dinner afterwards too! Bertie and her mum were there too. I felt so pretty in my new dress, and so happy after my graduation, I don't think I would have cared what I ate. Joy of joys, then, that my meal at Number 8 (on southbank, part of the crown complex) was the best lamb meal I've ever eaten. The meat was superb, it literally melted on my tongue. It was cooked to perfection, and the honey jus and caramelised parsnips with it were divine. The only thing I didn't love was the herb crust. In the end I would have preferred it without it, but most of it was easily scraped off. Our sides of broccolini with feta and spinach with pine nuts were also delicious. I was really happy with the whole night. It was a nice break from all of the stress and sadness.

On Sunday, Bertie and I went to some of the gardens in Melbourne to find a wedding ceremony location. We really loved Carlton Gardens, near the Hochgel fountain, on the lawn between the two rows of trees. There was even birds of paradise (my favourite flower) and these other AMAZING orange flowers that towered over our heads and had green/burnt orange leaves. They looked Tim Burtonesque, or like they belonged in Alice in Wonderland. There were also bright red and purple flowers - Bertie loves flowers, and it just seemed like a beautiful setting for a wedding.

We also ended up going to Iron Man 2 - we didn't think we'd have time, but we braved a late night (we're such nannas these days) and saw it at the Westgarth at 9.30pm after all the runaround that day. It was fun, but not as good as the first one. The highlight of the date for me was the little amount of time we had to kill before the film - we wandered down westgarth until we saw Kelvins. I've never been there, but when we walked in and saw the dark comfortable interior with shelves of board games we knew we'd found a good spot. Some girls next to our table were playing connect four, but we opted for Scrabble and played a quick game while sipping on glasses of port. We both enjoyed the Galway Pipe port more than the Bethany, though I do like a sweet drop and the initial taste of the Bethany was delightfully sweet. The Galway Pipe was just richer and had a nicer aftertaste.

I always think of Bertie's dad when I drink port. He's the reason I got to like it in the first place. It was the first year anniversary of his death the day after grandad died, so it was hard for Bertie being around death and funerals and mourning right at the time she was grieving afresh for her own father, who died so young at 59. She was so strong for me over those few days, but it was a sad time for both of us.

health problems... and learning to look after myself

Well, in a few hours my niece goes in to have brain surgery at the Royal Children's Hospital. She collapsed from a brain bleed after an AVM in her brain ruptured. I'm thinking of her and getting as close as I get to praying (sending silent pleas out to the universe to keep her safe. I think of them as being waves of emotion being sent out, probably useless but even if the only effect is to make me feel better then I guess it could be seen as worth it). Anyway, I'm hoping she pulls through it ok, she's only 12 and has her whole life ahead of her. I love her a lot, she's a great kid.

It's been a bad time lately health wise for my nearest and dearest. My grandfather is sick with cancer at the moment and went in to the hospital yesterday with breathing trouble.

And I've been experiencing seizures. About four in eight days. I had a CT scan and it came back clear (a huge relief as there was a possiblity of secondaries of my cancer showing up in my head, or a lesion of some sort). I'm having an EEG to check for epilepsy in a few weeks too.

I'm considering the possibility that they're stress related, too. I haven't had one for about five or six days now so I'm not sure what that means. I was trying to think of what was different in the week I had them, and I couldn't think of anything. Then Bertie pointed out that it was in that week that we'd been visiting the children's a lot. Once I stopped visiting so much (due to a combination of full time work and a throat/ear infection that I couldn't pass on to Ebony), I stopped having them. It could just be a coincidence, the seizures could happen again at any time according to the doctor, but I do remember that every time I came into the childrens hospital it brought back traumatic memories. The triggers for those memories weren't spectacular, in fact they were quite mundane - the artwork on the wall was the same, the food outlets were the same, the elevators were painted the same colour, the same statue was in the foyer... in fifteen years it seemed to be the same hospital that I had basically lived in during the time of the cancer/amputation. Also, seeing my niece at 12 (I had been 9/10) in the bed in the hospital made me experience my cancer from the perspective of a visitor/adult, with all the worries and fears for a helpless child before my eyes. I do wonder if the hospital triggered the seizures, or at least triggered stress in me that could have triggered seizures...

I noticed too in the MRI that as I went into the tunnel (a tunnel I found scary and upsetting as a child), tears started pouring out of my eyes and I couldn't stop shaking. I had to have the nurse come and comfort me and move my head back in to position, and I was very embarassed and surprised by my reaction. The nurse reminded me that having been through this before as a child with cancer, the reaction was in fact very natural and understandable. Once she had given me permission to feel what I was feeling, I just tried to acknowledge the stress and then calm myself. I realised that I was thinking 'not again, not again, not again', and that the possiblity of having cancer in my head was being linked to the experience of having cancer in my leg. I don't feel that I'm that traumatised by what I went through, but obviously deep in my mind - and in connection, my body - I have some buried emotions and memories that are coming back.

It's interesting, because part of the reason I started therapy was because I was having dreams and flashbacks about the cancer/hospital experience, so I am wondering if these seizures are just another manifestation of that stress that I have buried - in my therapy I never got around to tlaking about the leg and the hospital (did I purposely avoid it?). I ended up talking about things that were bothering me about life right now, mainly. I ended the sessions because I had run out of the government subsidised sessions and I couldn't afford more. It might be time to reconsider that and make room in my budget for it. I ended my time with the psychologist by simply never calling up to make my next appointment, so I feel a bit uncomfortable about that. Still, she was very good and if she'll have me back I think I'll go and see her again.

I know that stress is sometimes a trigger for Bertie's IBS symptoms - I was skeptical at first but over the years I've had to accept that stress is very closely linked to our body's physical health, and that it's important to acknowledge and deal with stress in your life.

As well as considering returning to therapy to try and deal specifically with issues relating to the experience of cancer/amputation/hospital, I'm also considering taking up yoga, tai chi, meditation, massage... I'll even give things like hypnotherapy and acupuncture a go. I just want to get rid of my stress so I can prevent health problems from happening instead of dealing with them when they hit.

I want to look at other preventative health measures in my life too - mainly diet and sleep. I have been noticing over my last thirteen months of insomnia that my sleep levels are directly linked to my mood for the day:

Three-four hours equals: I can function but i'm going to be on edge all day and then crash, usually accompanied by huge mood swings and emotional outbursts. I will be sick by the end of the day and end up taking a day or two off each week.

Four-five hours equals: I can function but I'm going to be on edge all day and then crash, usually accompanied by huge mood swings and emotional outbursts.

Six-seven hours equals: I can function but I'll feel tired and grouchy during the day, and will not feel motivated to go out at night, or in fact do anything at all after work hours.

Eight-nine hours equals: I can not only function but I feel capable of doing something in the afternoon too, whether it be cleaning the house or cooking a nutritious meal or catching up with a friend or going to a singing lesson etc

These are all variable of course, depending on how i've slept in the nights previous, what my diet has been like previous, and what is happening in my life. But basically, if I get the sleep it's easier to eat well and to feel positive about what's happening in my life... so it seems like a great first frontier.

Now that Bertie's back from work interstate, I seem to be sleeping just fine. So it seems a great time to start ensuring i get eight to nine hours of sleep a night. It's hard though, because my mind is so active at night and it's when I most want to read/play computer/have a conversation/do exercise/watch a bit of telly, etc... still, worth it if I can feel happier and more able to deal with life each day!

No pain no gain as they say...

I'm so happy today, despite the fact that my good leg aches like a biatch, and I'm so tired I'm heading to bed really early (unusual for me!).

Today was the coaching session with Wheelchair sports Victoria. Tim Matthews was there to help us, and having read a bit about him and his sporting and paralympic achievements, I was a bit embarrassed and shy to be getting on that track in front of someone so impressive - after all I'm a bit overweight, very unfit, and new to the whole running thing.

I might have been gasping for breath for much of the session, but you know what? I came away feeling proud and excited and exhilarated, not embarrassed. I've been running for such a short time, and have been exercising for less than a year, but I was motivated enough today to get on a track and run till I felt like I'd hurl or keel over. And look, it can only get better from here - my difficulties today make me feel like working my butt off to get fitter before the next session so I can get even more out of it.

Tim was very approachable, and very helpful. I got some fantastic advice - I need to lift my knees up higher when I run, and push off more from my good foot. I also swing my leg out slightly as I run. I felt like my technique really improved today, but I'll need to keep those tips in my mind all of the time so I don't fall back into the old way of running.

One of the best things about today was meeting another amputee who has a c-leg and a running leg, and just looks so fit and healthy and is running so well. It was very inspiring! It was great to see the people in wheelchairs (coolest wheelchairs I've ever seen) doing the athletics stuff too. It was clear that ther were a lot of people who had just gotten on with it, despite their disabilities. It was a really affirming experience. Today I got this sense of being in touch with myself and my body for the first time in year - I was always at pains to reassure myself and everyone around me that I was coping fine, that the leg didn't bother me or affect me at all, and that I didn't think of myself as n amputee or as disabled. And yet ignoring the leg and my experience of amputation for fourteen years didn't work all that well: I've been so busy trying not to think about my disability and trying not to seem 'disabled', I've actually closed myself off from accessing all of the amazing opportunities and information that have been out there the whole time.

But today I ran, anyhow. Tim suggested I run about three times a week - I normally run from bus stop to bus stop, pausing at each one for about 5min to catch my breath and rest. Now I have to run from the first bus stop to the second, then straight away walk back to the first. Three of these to begin with, then five, then eight... on the days I don't run, I'm going to get on my exercise bike - Tim suggested about 40 to 50 seconds of normal pedalling, then ten seconds of pedalling as fast as I can, then back to the normal pedalling again and so on.

And on Thursday I'll have enough to become a member of Disabled Wintersports Victoria, and hopefuly learn how to ski. The parentals are helping me with the cost of that, and a friend who does skiing has offered to lend me some decent gear too! Very excited at the thought of learning a completely new skill.

Finally, there's the gym - I want to get there once a week to do machine weights, fitball/handweights, and treadmill. I think I'll get to the gym tomorrow so that I can improve the fitball balance and core strength stuff before my next physio session on thursday.

"The will to win means nothing if you haven't the will to prepare." - Juma Ikangaa, 1989 NYC Marathon winner

As a kid I did jazz dancing, ballet, tap dancing, tennis, athletics, basketball... I was active and sporty. When I lost the leg at age ten, I became much less active - it wasn't all to do with the amputation, as I was at this stage getting more and more interested in reading, studying, singing, politics and activism, and other non-active hobbies - however, looking back I think I did let the amputation slow me right down. For example, I was too embarrassed to keep up my dancing with a prosthesis because I thought it'd look awkward and strange, and that people would stare or laugh. It seemed pointless putting so much effort into sport and dancing when I had so many other interests and hobbies to keep me busy.

Fast forward fourteen years, and I'm struggling with my weight, I feel sluggish and unhealthy, and I want to change my activity level dramatically.

For the last six months or so, I've been on weight watchers, trying to shed the kilos until I feel healthy in my own skin again. I don't think the program is perfect but it gives me a bit of structure, discipline and assistance in my weight loss struggle.

At the same time, I've been working out at the gym semi-regularly (trying to get big biceps so that Bertie will be impressed), walking as much as possible from place to place, and riding my fabulous new tricycle around the inner northern suburbs like a one legged, three wheeled hoon.

Meanwhile, my fantastic prosthetist and physiotherapist have been getting me toward a goal that in the last year has become very important to me - getting an energy returning foot, and learning to run! My prosthetist Hannah has also made me a fab new socket with a silicon suction suspension system, which took a bit of getting used to but is now working fabulously.

I am now running a little every day, and have decided to take a big leap of faith in my newfound ability - I've signed up to the Melbourne Marathon's ASICS 5km run on October 11 this year! I'm a little nervous about whether I'll be able to do it, but I guess if it gets to the day and I can't finish the race, I'll try and be happy with whatever distance I achieve.

I'm also wanting to learn how to participate in other sports and activities too - I've never been skiing, and would like to learn; I've played netball before and wouldn't mind having another go with this new running leg (before I used to kind of skip sideways to get down the court fast); I want to get back into swimming in a big way; and, somewhere along the way, I'd like to do some sort of dance to prove to myself that an amputee dancer can be as impressive as any full bodied dancer, if not more in this guy's case!

I'm no Oscar Pistorius, having only been running for a week, but today I rang Wheelchair Sports Victoria, hoping they might have contact details for a sports organisation or group for amputees I could get in touch with, and it turns out that they have an athletics coaching program on once a month, held very close to where I live, for wheelchair and amputee athletics! yay!

So, on the 5th of July, I'll be heading down there to make a fool of myself, have some fun, and get into a sport that in one week has made me so much happier about life, the universe, and everything :)

I'm a big kid now...

Today I rode my bicycle out of the apartment block, for the first time. No more circles around the apartment block carparks - I rode on the footpath till I got to a nearby park, then rode around and around that damn park until I felt safe and comfortable on the trike, and finally I rode home using the road.

Best. Feeling. Ever.



Penders Park, where I first rode my shiny new trike!





Later in the day, Mum came over and we rode the route that I'll be taking to TAFE each weekday from now on. I was having trouble with getting the bike started using the prosthesis when my feet were in a particular position and I was on a slope facing upward - it may just be that the muscles in the stump are not up to the challenge yet - but Mum pointed out that I could move the pedals backward without moving the bike (can't do the same thing forward), so if I rotated my feet backward to the position I could start the bike from, it'd work. It's still slow, and sometimes I had to move the pedals back two or three times to get the amount of push I needed to get the trike moving, but it's surely better than being completely stuck, in traffic, unable to get moving on the trike at all.

All in all I did about three hours of riding today. I'm sore and exhausted but I feel so happy that I now have a way of independently travelling around that is faster than walking but more environmentally and financially friendly than driving.

I'll let you know how the first week of cycling to TAFE goes... I wonder if I'll be riding every day or if that'll be too much!

Emotional eating - time to 'fess up, then move forward

Today, Bertie went back to WA for work. Just after she left, I skipped the second half of TAFE - a subject I love, biology - to sit at home sniffling and whining, and changing channels like a daytime TV addict on crack.

Meanwhile I devoured three quarters of a block of organic fair trade chocolate, three cans of coke (plus started on a 1.25l), two slices of greasy pizza, nearly a whole garlic bread, and a quarter of a tub of Maggie Beer's Burnt Fig Jam Honeycomb and Caramel Icecream.

Obviously not my best post-Bertie-leaving-day. Other times she's left I've managed to get myself to TAFE, finish assignments, do chores and even eat a healthy tea. What's different this time?

I think I'm losing motivation to lose weight, which is ridiculous because after losing a fabulous TWELVE kilos and feeling happy and (almost) healthy, I have now stacked back on about four. Why spend all that money on weight watchers and go through all that hard work to eat healthily and exercise, if I just stack it straight back on again? The slump in my motivation to lose weight means I'm quick to allow myself 'a night off' from the regime when Bertie leaves. And not just a night off, but a night where I eat my way through every bit of junk I can find/buy.

Note to self: the pizza-garlicbread-icecream-coke-chocolate binge night left you feeling sick, bloated and unhappy. Maybe this is a good thing, as it might help you reassess the way things are going in your journey to lose weight, get fit, and feel good about your body. Remember how healthy you started feeling when you were on track? Get back to that place!!! Forgive yourself for tonight, and then move on to better things tomorrow...

P.S. Don't EVER try and use Dr Phil to solve your problems. NEVER, do you hear me? I'd rather you eat three pizzas and four tubs of icecream and five litres of coke. Just no more Dr Phil!

An 'insight' into childhood obesity

I'm watching tonight's 'Insight' program on SBS, and am finding it fascinating.

I wish I'd seen all of the episode (I was watching RSPCA rescue before I realised this program was on, and had been tearing up big time at a story about a kitten stuck in a car for two days that had been driven around and even crashed. Thankfully he was ok).

Anyway, back to Insight. I'm so impressed by what I've seen. I love that this show is bringing together industry members, academics, dietitians, 'normal' members of public, government, and the fabulous chef/fresh food activist Stephanie Alexander. The members of the food industry made me feel annoyed or skeptical a lot of the time, but it was good to hear what they had to say. I did feel that Jenny Brockie was quite tough on them, and that the right questions were asked within the time constraints of the show.

There was a lot of talk about various ways of listing nutritional information on packaging, which was fascinating - I liked the traffic light system they described because it's easy to understand and quick to read when you're facing a number of choices at a supermarket. However, it was Stephanie Alexander's comment that if you eat fresh, seasonal food then in her opinion, no food is bad whether it be a bit of real butter or some creme freche. Very interesting, as I like to think this but I do eat a lot of low fat processed foods since I started weight watchers.

The most impressive audience member, in my opinion, was Professor Boyd Swinburn from Deakin University. I'll be making a decision at the end of this year about whether to go to Deakin or Monash to study nutrition and dietetics, so it was interesting to see someone involved in the Deakin program in action. According to the Deakin website, "Professor Swinburn leads a research program in the area of obesity prevention, especially in childhood and adolescence", and he certainly seemed passionate and knowledgeable about this issue.

Apparently you can watch reruns online so I'll be doing that as soon as it's available and making some more detailed commentary about what various people on the show said.

The other fantastic aspect of the Insight website is that after each show, some of the guests are available to chat. I am doing this right now - I asked Clare Collins, a dietitian and consultant on the Biggest Loser - "Hi, I wanted to ask Clare how she got into dietetics, and what advice she'd have for someone wanting to get into this career themselves?" She hasn't answered me specifically yet, but she did write a message to someone else saying, "I love my profession! It is the only thing I wanted to do since age 14. Within Dietetics I have changed directions many times from working in hospitals, doing research, teaching university students, working with the media and consulting to TV show. There is a lot of science in dietetics and a lot of education but if you love working with people you will love it."

It's the ability to change direction within a career that really makes or breaks it for me, I think. I am the most changeable, indecisive person and I need to put myself into new environments and situations regularly to feel happy and stimulated. I hope that the fact that a dietitian can work in government, industry, private practice, hospitals, consultancy, research, teaching etc might mean that I can move around within my career as the years go by to stay challenged and interested.

*yay* since i wrote the above para, Clare Collins has replied to my question, saying: "when I did dietetics you used to have to do a science degree THEN another course BUT now you can go straight into a university course from year 12. It does help if you have done chemistry because you do a lot in the first 2 years of the course. My advice is that if you are keen to do it apply and go from there. Most jobs are still in ospitals helping people who have medical condition modify their food intake so they can improve their health but the areas where more jobs are becoming available is in working with different companies and in private practice." Thanks Clare! I'm glad to hear there's lots of chemistry involved in the dietetics courses as it's one of my favourite subjects at TAFE at the moment.

Phew! What a mammoth post. As I said, I'll write more when I've seen the full episode online :)

Zeroing in on the problem...

Still failing on the coke front *sigh*

I'm not only failing to give it up, but I've been drinking about two cans of coke zero PER DAY since I tried giving soft drink up for a second time. What is wrong with me? I'm wondering if the old reverse psychology thing's at work here - since I told myself I couldn't have it, my desire for it has increased tenfold.

I've also started doing the whole 'oh but I'm studying so hard, I'll have one now and then once I've got these three assignments in, I can focus on giving it up properly...' Totally pissweak. If I can't resist it when I'm studying hard, I doubt I'll stop letting myself off the hook when I'm working hard or parenting hard.

I think I'm going to take down the counter, stop obsessing, and try to let it happen a bit more naturally and gradually. Maybe focus on reducing the frequency again. Obviously the hard line isn't working for me here.

>:(

P.S. just found this site called The Zero Movement - maybe this'll help motivate me a bit? It also led me to this site...

"Riding around on my pushbike honey, when I noticed you... you looked so pretty when you were riding aloo-oooo-ooong"

Once again study has prevented me from blogging as regularly as I'd like... but I have two really positive transport/mobility developments in the last week:

1. Fantastic new prosthetist, and soon a new leg and some physio sessions!
- It seems I'll be getting an energy returning foot, I think it'll be the 1C30 Trias from Otto Bock - my long term goal is to be able to jog and run (it is apparently very difficult for above knee amputees, but we'll see... I'm pretty determined)
- I have a pretty awesome knee but don't really know how to use to its full potential, such as being able to walk up and down stairs more normally; hoping to learn this with the physio.

2. Gomier Adult Tricycle
- I saw a guy riding one of these around thornbury and knew I had to have one! I haven't ridden a bike for fourteen years, so I went to test one out at the Melbourne Bicycle Centre in Clifton Hill today, and it was fantastic!
- Using my government's stimulus package handout to buy it :D
- I have to decide between red or blue... I'm leaning toward red at the moment.

Both of these will be good for my health as I can exercise while doing something I'd be doing anyway (getting from A to B) instead of having to take time out of my busy life to go to the gym etc. Both will also be great for my environmental and sustainable living goals, as my hope is that unless I'm going really far away, I will be able to get to most places by walking, jogging, running, or cycling. Hell yeah!

Rotting food, sugary drinks, and too many towels to wash

So much for that post about the bokashi bin that never happened. Not that anyone's reading this blog, but I'm slipping on a lot of fronts so I need to 'fess up and stay accountable to myself here.

My beautiful bokashi bin finally arrived and I have set it up... so far all good in terms of there being no noticeable smell, but I'm giving it a few weeks of fermentation to see if that changes. One problem I've had is that it's bigger than I expected, which means it doesn't fit nicely into my kitchen. I've been experimenting with other places to put it, and for the moment it's on the dining room table - not the best and most guest-friendly place for a bucket of rotting food :S

In other news I've not only been having many many soft drinks, I've also had quite a bit of coke in the last two weeks particularly. BAD Jess. It got to the point where it was too many to be able to remember them all to put on my soft drink counter. I'm pretty mad at myself, but I'm making a new start today, which is all I can do. So from today: only water and tea, with the occasional fruit juice, coffee, or soda water with a dash of cordial. I decided the occasional coffee will be ok, as long as it's fair trade and organic (the reason I'm allowing myself this naughty caffeine drink is that on the days where I absolutely cannot stay awake, I'm finding myself giving in to getting coke - or worse, an energy drink - so I can make it through the day. If I allow myself A FEW coffees each week, maybe it'll be easier to resist the other evils...?)

My showers have been creeping past the 4min point, so SLAP on my wrist. I'm sitting at about 6-8min now, and there's NO excuse now that I have my beautiful little timer in the shower. Time to recommit to that, especially seeing as the last water bill told me I'm using 192 litres PER DAY, which is way under the government's personal target for each person of 155 litres. Hmm.

One thing that really annoys me is that our rental property only has a full flush toilet. It's a shame, because apparently about 20% of a home's water is flushed down the toilet so there's huge water saving potential there. I doubt there's any chance the landlord would put in a new toilet for rental tenants (?) so I'll just have to focus on other water saving tactics...

1. actually start using my shower bucket, and try flushing the toilet with this when I have got enough buckets worth (I've heard you can do this but have never tried flushing the loo without pressing the flush button... we'll see)

2. be strict with myself again about having 4min showers

3. Shave my legs BEFORE I have the shower so I can just rinse the soap off under the running water when I do start my shower

4. Guilty confession time... I usually use a different towel every day. What the? So, try to use towels for more than 1 day so I don't end up washing a load of towels every week

OK I think that's enough for now. I'll let you know how that all goes.

Sweeeeeeeeeet Poison *sigh*

Woah. I almost wish I hadn't read Sweet Poison: why sugar makes us fat by David Gillespie. If you believe what he's saying, then fructose is a bit evil in large quantities. The body is not programmed to tell you to stop eating it, like it is with other foods, because early in human history fructose-filled foods were so rare to come by and were therefore not harmful in the available small quantities. However in today's environment of processed foods with added sugars, and readily available sugar, honey and fruit juice, we eat much more fructose than our bodies can handle. We can eat and drink sugar by the bucketload without feeling full (though we might eventually feel sick); meanwhile the fructose causes weight gain (Gillespie blames fructose for the obesity epidemic we see in the developed world at the moment) as well as a whole range of serious - and often lethal - health problems. Being all around us, however, fructose is not an easy thing to avoid or even reduce.

I think I will be asking a qualified dietitian about the fructose issue, as I don't plan to drastically change my diet based on one book written by a lawyer/IT professional. Still, Gillespie seems to have done a lot of research and hard work, and has lost 40kg from his fructose-free ways. Yet another example of a person who changes their life drastically, and then writes an inspiring book that motivates me to change my own. If he is right, I will voluntarily walk my way down into a personal hell: no more than 5-10g of fructose a day (which you would get from a few pieces of fruit). While I research Gillespie's theory, I'll start the first easy (and beneficial for me no matter whether Gillespie is right or not) steps. After all, if I'm going to give up eating much fructose I think the key to success will be to do it in stages. The first two will be... *drum roll*

1. stop drinking coffee as I only like it with three sugars. Swap to sugar free tea.

2. give up soft drinks altogether, and if I really need a sweet drink, have soda water with a TINY bit of cordial instead of the tonne I have with it now.

At the very least these two steps will save my teeth some grief (my dentist has already told me to give up the large number of sugary drinks I was consuming, namely coke which I have almost completely given up), and reduce my caffeine intake as I am a terrible addict.