Healthy Hughesy

Didn't think it was ever going to happen, but I'm now looking forward to the pool.

No, really! Since recovering from that nasty bout of chest infection, I've persisted and am now really liking the feeling of water rushing past me as I plough through it. The trainer is terrific and pushes ever so gently. She has one of those personalities that make you want to achieve  and push yourself just that little bit further and harder, just because she wants you to.

Today was butterfly and I actually made a whole length without stopping - 16 times! Sure, it was only 25m, with flippers, but still. You try it. It is a bloody long way when you're 50, over weight and just off the tail end of 35 years of chain smoking!

And, best of all, I've busted through the 90 kg barrier (lost 4kg) and am at that fantastic stage where excess weight is just sliding off. Sadly, it appears to be pooling round my arse on its way, but a heartening hint of muscle is peeking out from beneath the layer of blubber. My current goal is to be able to push off and NOT see the subcutaneous flesh on my arms rippling.

Aside from the swimming season membership, I've lashed out and bought myself a pair of runners. It's about twenty years since I owned a pair of proper comfy sport shoes and now that I've parted with cash, I'm going to get my money's worth. Went to one of those horrible sporty shops full of horrible sporty things, and found a nice girl who sold me a pair of men's shoes - much better option for a girl who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and wore bare feet to school. Added to that, a pair of 1kg weights and an elastic band thingie with a DVD to show me how to use it and I'm all set.

Yesterday I took  the plunge - an hour walking up over heartbreak hill and down to the end of the road carrying the weights, snug in my new shoes. Now I'm kind of muscle sore, but not so bad I need to be reaching for the epsom salts. It's that nice feeling of having done something with your body, rather than that  call an ambulance feeling. And weirdly, in spite of being off the fang, I'm not actually hungry.

Added to that, I've been off the booze for few of weeks, and watching portion control and have set my controls for the heart of the sun - 65kg here I come.

Have to go there. No slacking off this time. Have just discovered a shit and buggery health issue which I'm determined to cure with health rather than reaching for the drugs. Nothing serious (unless I leave it go). So, the party really is over, dammit.

Lucky I went hard while I had the chance.

Heheh.

Health retreats

Trouble with aquatic health regimes is the plague.

A swimming pool, regardless of the tons of chlorine they no doubt dump into the water, contains some pretty virulent lurgies, all of which appear to be currently at work in my ear, nose throat and pulmonary system. It got so bad the other night I had to actually go the the bloody hospital! Oxygen, ventolin, antibiotics and IV panadol! And I don't even suffer from asthma! It was just that I couldn't breathe - just kept hacking and coughing till I was out of steam and Geoff piled me into the car to go down to Noosa to make sure I wasn't actually going to expire.

Scary. I'm OK now, but have had a gluey head for the first two days of the library tour. Bugger not to be on top form, but should be back up there by Thursday.

Will see how I feel on Friday - hope to get back into the pool with increased immunity - fingers crossed.

Just so you know

Just in case you are unsure about these things, I have discovered that a 'standard' drink is NOT one bottle a night. Each.

Dammit.

Also, it's taken since Feb, but I'm finally fag free.

Now that I can breathe and won't be adding a gallon of vino reddo onto the intake side of things, losing that 20 kg (sigh, which is still there give or take a few kg depending on the time of the month) will certainly be a lot easier.

Adelaide is ...

going off - the festival is full on and the fringe is now insanely big. So much so that its no longer a fringe as far as I can tell, and is totally mainstream, which means I will not be going - not that I ever did - I hate fkn clowns.

But the writers' week is, as usual, brilliant. Saw a fantastic bloke speak - a kind of a pohmmy JB - Phillip Kerr. Never read his stuff because its detective gear, but I will now. He can tell a mean story.

After hours is publisher parties, hanging out with their authors and international publishers and trying to remember that I'm an author, and not an agent anymore! Too weird to find myself pitching books to a french publisher when they arejust things I've read and love and nothign in it for me! Old spots that just don't go away.

Had indian with the charming Steven Conte (author of the Zookkeepers War) last night. Haven;t read his book, but then, he hasn't read mine, so we jsut talked about the biz over dinner, and story, and next books. Cool.

However, the exercise regime though it started out with the best intentions, has come to a grinding halt. I walked both ways to the fest yesterday, but on the way back twisted my ankle, and this morningit is up like a baloon and painful, and though I can put pressure on it, I won't be walking too far. Dammit. I was really enjoying the walk.

Thinner chicken dinner

One for the blubber busters:

Roast Chicken Picasso - this is the easiest, cleanest and most delightful way to cook a chook. Rub it all over with olive oil, S&P. Now, take one whole lemon, prick it in several places with a fork and place it inside the chook with a sprig of rosemary and parsely. Place in an oiled baking tray, sprinkle with more rosemary - fresh if you've got it - and cook in the normal way. The lemon perfumes the meat and steams the chook from the inside, making the flesh extraordinarily tender.

For the baked vegies - go for spuds if you can't resist the temptation, but don't peel them - put them in the oven whole as they are (no foil - oxidised aluminium give's you Alzheimer's, they say). When they're done, cut them in half, scoop out the white flesh and give that to the chooks, or save it as spakfiller, and eat the skins. They are delicious roasted like this with black pepper, and maybe a little of that mayo you've got left in the fridge. You can do the same with sweet potato, but save the flesh of those for a cold salad the following day. If you are desperate for the LOOK of a baked dinner with a pile of white stuff as a side issue but are off carbs entirely, steam some cauliflower and toss it in olive oil and garlic.

For the veg, mix only-just-steamed green veg lightly sauted with julienned carrots in a little butter and a tabspspoon of sugar to caramelise the carrots - these quantities of 'bad' stuff will not blow the diet, but they will make vegetables worth eating. Whatever you do, don't over cook the veg - they should be al dente - never mushy.

input/output log week one

So, here's my totals for the week - input and output. Not going near the scales for a month.

It's really just for me to keep tabs on balance across a whole week and not obsess about calories and all that shit. That kind of thing can send you mental.

The only way to know for sure what is in food is to make it yourself. I am way too busy to spend hours in the kitchen, so I do fast food. Anything more than 20 min prep time means it's overcooked, and any nutrition that may have been in the dish has leeched out of it. Added to that, life (well mine anyway) is way too short to eat just for the sake of it. It should be a shared pleasure. Even if my portions are now smaller, the meal still has to be delicious and worth the time and energy (and love) invested in it.

Also, water is really important. I've got 2x 750ml bottles in the fridge for those moments when I find myself staring wistfully into is cold hard glare. Hopefully a swig or two of water will satisfy both food and nicotine urges.

Sat 20 Feb

Output: rode to town on the bike - 5 k

Input: Something eggy on toast - scrambled with tomato sauce. (I am so not giving up tomato sauce - an essential food group all on its own! - but when the tomato plants are bearing I'll make my own which won't have nearly so much sugar in it as the commercial stuff.)

Chicken (left over roast) salad - lashings of green vegies and balamic and oil dressing

Grandma's birthday (no way out) Roast lamb - small serve of meat, large serve of vegies and no spud.

One small slice of some gluten free apple cakey thing - no cream.

ONLY FOUR GLASSES OF RED ! Moderation, thy name is Hughesy!

2x750 ml bottles of water.

Sun 21 Feb

Output:

Rode back from town on the bike 5 k

Input:

Something eggy on toast - boiled egg with FINGERS (not soldiers!)

Yellow chicken curry made with a little suflower oil, much onion, carrot, garlic and ginger, stirfied for a few moments with Mae Ploy yellow curry paste till aromatic, coat the chicken in this mixtre for a moment till lightly golden and then pour in 200 ml of coconut milk, and 2 cups of boilin stock. The local organic chook producer's cheapest cut is 'wingetts' which are perfect for this - they are skinned and don't need to be in the pot for very long. When the chook is done, turf in a splach of fish sauce, torn kaffir leaves and a pile of any green vege to hand and only cook till just tender. Garnish with chopped deseeded red chilli and thai basil leaves. Steamed brown rice. Made a whole pot of it with intention of feeding G-man's grazing the following day, but we ate the rest for supper - couldn't be fkd cooking again

NO RED WINE!

Only half a fag - put it out half way

Mon 22

Output:

Nil - on deadline for a bunch of meetings not enough hours in the day. grrrrr

Input:

Something eggy on toast - fried + tom sauce
Many cups of black tea - no milk or sugar (because that's the way I always drink it) and over teh course of the mid afternoon, three strange sugarless nutty biscotti things of unknown recipe bought from the local health food shop, but weirdly delicious.

Pan fried chicken breast marinaded in olive oil, garlic, lemon juice, oregano (not a whole one, a half of one. A whole breast sliced through the centre still LOOKS like a whole breast, just thinner). Swilled some white wine in the pan juices and when it was boiled off, chucked in a pile of chopped parsely and more black pepper.

Green salad with a sprinkle of pine nuts, rocket and wafer thin slivers of pecorino with a splash of oil and balsamico dressing.

NO RED WINE AGAIN! WOW.

Several fags (yes, I hate myself but blame deadline neurosis for the relapse)

Tues 23

Outputs: Morning walk - up to the top of heartbreak hill. 3 k round trip.

Inputs:

Something eggy on toast.

I'm such a creature of habit. After only three days I have become conditioned to love the concept, and find that there is a vast range of dishes to fit this category. Today - croque madame (no cheese version) done under the griller.

Method. Cut a hole in the slice of bread with an egg ring and toast both pieces on a baking sheet under the griller. When you turn the toast, crack an egg into the hole and slide it back under the grill to cook the egg, but not too much - you want that yolk soft and gooey. When it's done, lay the slices of avocado and some generous spoonage of diced tomato on the egg, and place the toasted circle on top, throw on a couple of fresh torn basil leaves, then drizzle with a little olive oil and lots of freshly ground black pepper.

Meetings all day - just fruit for lunch on the run.

Stirfry - lean chicken, snowpeas and beansprouts & rice. Jasmine tea.

NO RED WINE Abstemiousness on a stick.

Wed 24

Outputs: Walk to sugarleaf rd.

Inputs:

Something eggy on toast. Mmmm BLT.

The egg is in the form of home made mayo with one egg yolk, just enough olive oil to emulcify it, a teasp of grainy mustard, lemon juice, garlic, S&P and a splash of white balsamic vinegar and one small dribble of honey. On the toast goes (one only) sliver of grilled bacon, slices of tomato, lettuce and a tablespoon of that golden nectar that is mayonaise. Bacon once a week is absolutely essential for mental health - it's not all about the waist line you know.

Lunch - Vege Laksa

Ayam laksa paste is the BEST and most authenitc I've found up here in the sticks and makes a great laksa. A little sunfower oil in the wok, brown some onions, garlic and ginger and a couple of tabsps of paste, stirfry till aromatic. Add 2 cups of stock and 200 ml of lite coconut milk. Bring to the boil and add vegies, carrots first, caulie and brocolli florets next and any greens last, and only for a moment. If you want, you can whack some cubes of tofu in too - but resist the temptation to fry it. You should have a (small) handful of rice noodles soaking in hot water - drain them and put them in the bottom of a bowl, on top of that use bean sprouts to replace the amount of noodle you'd expect to get in a laksa. Pour on the soup and top with chopped corianda.

Thurs 25

Outputs: two hours scrambling up and down a newly bulldozed hillside sowing pasture grass with G-man. Now THAT's a workout!

Inputs:

Something eggy on toast.

Finely sliced rings of red onion, capers and a strip of smoked salmon on the toast, drizzled with a little olive oil and topped with a perfectly poached egg (and a sprinkle of oregano & black pepper)

Meeting lunch time - nothing - out at a meeting all day

Arvo Snack-Flat bread 'pizza'

One of my fave pizzas in italy is the margerita - it has no cheese - just the bread base with tomato sauce, oregano and olive oil. Rather than make the pizza dough, I just use leb bread as the base. G-Man will get cheese and a choice of other stuff on top, but I actually prefer the simplicity of the combination of totally slenderising ingredients.

Total blowout - I knew the abstenance bubble would burst. A bottle and a half of red. However, did not actually eat anything. We were too busy in the studio and by the end of the bottle, too pissed to be bothered. However, it was a quality blow out - found a bottle of 27 yr old pino nior in the back of the cupboard which, to my vast pleasure, was completely delicious!

Friday 26

Outputs: Afternoon walk up heartbreak hill and back 2 k

Inputs:

Something eggy on toast. scrambled with smoked salmon.

Panfried greek chicken breast & salad

There will be a break in transmission while I go to the Adelaide Festival, but I'm going to be trying to make lite choices - should be interesting. Intend to do most of it on foot - my accom is on the other side of town from the festival, AND, it has an indoor pool which I'll be making the most of each morning.

No doubt, G-Man will take the opportunity for a BBQ'd red meat fest while I'm away. But then, there's every possibility that I might too! There are times when you look down a menu and Venetian calves liver and onions is the ONLY thing you can see.

We'll see.

Breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dine like a pauper

Since the start of this rediculous resolve to become fit and healthy - (ergh, just the thought of it conjures visions of lycra and bad sports wear choices) I've already reached obsessive compulsive disorder levels of concentration on the problem of "The 20 KG".

Breakfast is a big problem - I can't usually face food till about 11am, so as it is something I have to make myself remember to do, 'something eggy on toast' it is. And that slice of toast is the only bread of the day. We use that heavy as lead Essene bread made from sprouted wheat instead of the foam rubber variety. It is marginally more expensive than your toasty loaf of sourdough, but lasts for days in the fridge. Sprouted grains have much more vitamins etc than ground grains - which becomes a vegetable rather than a starch, and is much more easily digested.

I have to try to get the lunch thing together and make that the main meal of the day, or poor G-Man will keel over and waste away to nothing with me off the fang and not really prepared to go there with the two separate meals thing - we'll eat the same, I just won't have the spud - easy enough to resist - I don't really like them anyway, unless they are fried in duck fat which, sadly, will be a once in a blue moon occasion instead of every week since having discovered how to render the fat. So, red duck curry is on the special occasion menu only.

The thing I don't think I'll be able to survive without is rice, because stirfried anything is our staple diet, but a mate bought me a rice cooker and since then, it's so effective at fluffing brown rice up with steam, (I actually prefer brown to white - it tastes nutty and the texture is better) I only use a one and a half cup portion for the two of us, so nup - not going off rice - FK that. It is pretty much the only carb on the list, maybe a sweet potato occasionally. But I am going to cut down on the coconut milk - now it's going to be lite, and seriously diluted with home made stock, making my curries a lot wetter.

Never did do dairy much - but no yoghurt anymore. Or great lumpen slabs of cheese, dammit.

The garden has come back to life since the rain, so I'll have a supply of fresh F&V in about a month - so less trips to the supermarket and access to the row upon row of shite they disguise as food behind all that packaging.

And the fags. Substance replacement therapy. Water - great big gugly swigs of it to ward off the craving. Only lasts a couple of days anyway. Needing to actually breathe after the bike ride left me feeling like a complete loser.

And the booze. Seeing as I'm giving up fags that will have to go to, because of the association - my will power is just not strong enough to go off the fags and stay on the booze. They are blood brothers, and have to go together till the nicotine is out of my system. Then, no more CRAP booze, because with fifteen bucks a day extra in my pocket, I'm switching to the good gear.

Suggestions required - around the $20 - $30.

However, unless the tucker that is allowed is palatable, there is no way I'm going to be able to stick to this regime, so the philospophy is - breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dine like a pauper. Theoretically this should cut down the consumption of alcohol: a pauper's dinner isn't likely to justify a bottle of good wine, a prince may consume it at lunch time, but unlike us mere mortals, he rarely has anything to do for the rest of the afternoon, and even a king wouldn't consider a tipple with his Croque Madame!

Blubber Busting Tip # 1 - Allow at least 45min for a 5 min bike ride

Well, off she went, that intrepid foolhardy Hughesy, off to town on an actual bicycle. Had a meeting at about 4pm. Left here at ten to. Plenty of time - only a minute or two to push the bike up heart break hill, then down hill all the way, a Wind in Her Hair coast!

What I failed to factor into the time and motion equation were three -damn, THREE! - gentle climbs between the bottom of the heartbreak and town. Man, I thought I was going to expire.

I am not a timelord. According to G-man, the car ride into town is at the very least ten minutes, and those humps reduced my pedalling to less than walking speed and burning thighs. By the time I arrived at the meeting at 4.30, I was gagging, driping in sweat and needed at least two tumblers of H2O before I could even speak.

The bike is currently parked under the house of the woman I met with, and she very kindly drove my sorry carcass home.

Still, if I can manage to actually move in the morning, I'm going to ride that sucker back, even if it takes me all bloody day. And this time, I'll remember the bloody helmet.

Rule # 1 - don't leap into an exercise regime you vageuly remember yourself capable of twenty years ago.

Therein lies humiliation.

Off the fang; off my arse

Ergh. I'm on a mission thanks to bloody birmo and his health crusade.

20kg. Sheesh, I don't know how it happened seeing as I've made a point of not ever owning a set of scales. I've been going to see a naturopath to try to get some relief for hayfever - the drug solution doesn't work, so I'm looking outside western medicine for possibilities, and she weighed me. It was a bit of a shock to find that I weigh the same as the average A grade rugby leage player.

She has put me in a course of iodne to get my metabolism up, and I'm looking at a goal of 75kg. Going to have to cut out the booze, fags, fats, sugars and carbs and get off my fat backside and exercise. I guess must be a mid life crisis. The idea of turning fifty this year has put me into a bit of a tail spin. There's a whole pile of stuff I want to get done before I keel over, and if my parents are any indication of what I have to look forward to in my dotage - alheimer's, morbid obesity and diabetes - I've only got 20 years left, and only ten of those relaitvely healthy.

So, I'm going to try for twenty really good, mobile, intellectually sharp, fit years. Well, that's the plan, anyway.

OK Hughsey, off you go then, get off the bloody computer and hit that hill.