Reasons to Quit Drinking #1: Weight Loss

I'm aware that it sounds a little shallow, kicking off my 'Reasons to Quit' series with weight loss.

Perhaps I should have started with something a bit more weighty (excuse the pun), like health issues, or mental wellbeing.

But the truth is we know drinking is bad for us, and we know we have to stop, but it's not easy, and we deserve a bit of a perk, don't we?

And I can't be alone in being a teensy bit interested in the idea of getting skinny, as more people find my blog via Google by typing in 'stop drinking and lose weight' than any other search term.

Weight isn't just a vanity thing for us women - it affects all areas our lives. Our self esteem, our relationships, our health, and the way other people view, and judge, us.

Throughout my childhood, teenage years and my twenties I was effortlessly slim, but from my late twenties onwards (about the time I started drinking heavily) I steadily gained weight.

By the time I quit drinking, last March, I was a UK size 14 (US size 10) and weighed 11 stone 10 pounds (164 pounds).

Not only did this give me a BMI in the 'overweight category', but it made me feel bleurgh. I'd lost my mojo. I felt unattractive and old. I knew that that confident, skinny person was still in there somewhere, but muffled by a layer of blubber and pickled in booze.

I particularly hated the 'wine belly.' (See my post on The Wine Belly). I was asked several times by young children whether I had a 'baby in my tummy.' Mortifying. People would offer me their seats on buses!

It's not surprising that alcohol makes us gain weight. After all, a bottle of wine contains around 600 calories. I was drinking around ten bottles a week! That's 6,000 calories - more than two whole days worth of calories!

Plus, as soon as I'd had a few glasses of vino, all thoughts of moderation in anything flew out the window. Pudding? Why the hell not? Chocolates with coffee? It'd be rude not to!

Then you wake up with a hangover for which there's only one cure: a carbs/fat combo, like a bacon sarnie, or a large blueberry muffin (one of your five a day!).

Over the years I tried endless diets: The F Plan (endless fibre), the Beverly Hills diet (lots of fruit), Scarsdale Medical diet (detailed meal plans), Hay diet (complicated rules about protein and carbs), Cabbage soup diet (just what it sounds like), The Cambridge diet (milkshakes), Atkins (no carbs), Dukan diet (no carbs), Low GI diet (low carbs) and the 5:2 diet (2 days fasting a week).

(Just writing that list makes me feel hungry).

All of them would work for a while. I'd lose up to around ten pounds in a month. But they were impossible to stick to long term, and as soon as I started eating normally again, the weight would pile back on, plus a bit extra for good measure.

I did the exercise thing too. Jane Fonda's workout. Rosemary Conley's hip and thigh workout. Stepping. Spinning. Running. Large rubber band things. Blow up balls. Callanetics. Weights. Body Pump. Body Attack and that funny machine that you stand on while it vibrates.

(Just writing that list makes me feel exhausted).

I did get fitter, but not much thinner.

Since I quit drinking I haven't followed any particular diet. I've not been to the gym much, although I've been pretty active as I've had so much energy. I've not been hungry at all.

Yet I've lost nearly twenty pounds.

I'm now a small UK size twelve, maybe even a ten (US size 6). I've gained cheekbones. I've lost a chin. And the muffin top that I thought was obligatory for all mothers in their forties? Completely gone!

I may not be a MILF, but I am in pretty good nick for my age.

And the great news about this diet is that it is very simple. All you need to do is not drink alcohol.

But there are some caveats:

1. It is slow.

You will probably only lose about half a pound a week. It's not like those 'miracle' diets where you lose half a stone in week one. It's slow and steady. But any nutritionist will tell you that's the best kind of diet, and the only way that's sustainable.

2. It isn't immediate.

Most people don't lose weight initially, many even gain weight at the beginning. It took me until about day 100 to start seeing results.

Firstly, it takes your body a while to adjust - it's had a huge shock. Secondly, you'll crave sugar when you first quit, and cake and hot chocolate are invaluable quitting tools. Let yourself indulge initially - one thing at a time. When you're ready, try to use exercise as a way of managing cravings instead of sugar.

3. You have to stay sober.

Otherwise it'll all pile back on.

So, if you're in the early days of going sober, and starting to waver, stick a 'fat' photo of yourself on the fridge next to a picture of Kate Moss and keep going!

Check out the SoberMummy Facebook page HERE for inspiration, information and a few great laughs, every week day at wine o'clock. 'Like' the page to stay updated!

Love and skinny hugs to you all,

SM x

Moderation and Dieting

I was reading Shane Watson's column in the Times Magazine yesterday.

I've always liked Shane Watson. The title of yesterday's article was 'Why I Hate People on Diets.'

As I read it, chuckling away, it struck me that trying to drink 'moderately' is very much like being on a diet.

Here's what Shane says about dieters - see if it rings any bells:

They (moderators) are unrelaxed and unrelaxing, reek of self denial and vibrate with unfinished business. For obvious reasons they tend to have a short fuse (who wouldn't, with the day stretching ahead with only three litres of Evian (one glass of wine) to look forward to), and God help you if a long-anticipated meal (drink) is held up for any reason....

....they are wired and restless and keen to get to the next stage, and then the next stage, before they finally collapse into bed and lie there, jaws clamped tight.

Remember all that? I think part of the reason we dread sobriety is that we've all played with moderation and assume that being sober is just the same but endless.

But it's not! Sober is like ditching the diet and eating what you want, it's just that you've got to the point where you no longer want to eat (drink) the bad stuff.

So, I'm nodding along, feeling smug, when Shane says: saying "I'm no carbs" is like saying "I'm teetotal."

Can you hear the implied scorn? I've always hated Shane Watson.

She goes on: dieters have....made us self-conscious about food. They've taken one of the most enjoyable things in life and made it awkward. That's why I hate people on diets: because they affect the way I feel about food and the role food plays in my life. Eating normally seems....like showing off.

With a horrible sinking feeling I recognised that that is exactly how people see 'teetotallers' at a dinner party. Party poopers. Fun suckers. Energy drains.

We make them question their own habits, and we make them self conscious about drinking in front of us.

That's why I usually stay quiet.

I let people fill up my wine glasses which I then don't touch. It's not because I'm ashamed of being sober - I'm not, quite the reverse.

It's because I'm worried that however much they pretend to admire me and be impressed, they're secretly thinking "bloody hell, they've sat me next to the sober person! Beam me up, Scotty!"

Love SM x

Sleep, glorious sleep!

Day 24 today - yay! I was thinking about what's changed in the last few weeks, and one of the biggies is sleep.

Putting this in context: I have had terrible insomnia on and off over the last decade. I've gone through weeks at a time averaging no more than 3 hours a night. Things got better when I quit full time work, but I still had terrible broken nights. I used to look at my children, spread out over their tangled covers like comatose starfish, dead to the world for at least ten hours at a time, and wonder where it all went wrong.

My classic night's sleep would go like this: After supper and children's bedtimes, longsuffering husband and I would retire to sofas to watch TV. Within 30 minutes (at around 9.30pm) I'd usually be fast asleep (due to lack of sleep the previous night, and the wine I'd drunk before, during and after dinner). At about 11pm husband would wake me up and I'd stagger upstairs, brush teeth and fall into bed. By 3am I'd wake up, dying for a wee and a bottle of water, then I'd toss and turn and fret and worry and hate myself until about 6am when I'd fall asleep and have weird dreams. The alarm would go off at 6.30am and I'd drag myself out of bed, exhausted.

Not only is constant, low level exhaustion a bummer, but it's also really bad for our health. It exacerbates depression and weight issues, is really bad for your skin and your heart, and increases your risk of colon and breast cancer. Ironically, all these issues are also caused by alcohol addiction, so for us it's a double whammy.

I tried all sorts of insomnia cures: herbal remedies, prescription drugs, hot milk, aromatherapy baths, notebook by the bed, meditation, exercise - you name it. The one thing I didn't try, obviously, was giving up alcohol.

I've done a bit of research, and it transpires that the link between alcohol and insomnia is a well proven one. Drinking alcohol makes you fall straight into a deep sleep cycle initially, but Doctor John Shneerson, head of the Papworth Sleep Centre in Cambridge, explains that "as the alcohol starts to wear off, your body can come out of deep sleep and back into REM sleep, which is much easier to wake from. That's why you often wake up after just a few hours sleep after drinking."

To feel refreshed you should, ideally, have 6 or 7 cycles of REM sleep. After drinking you typically have only 1 or 2, which is why you feel exhausted the next day. You're also likely to wake up several times to wee, due to alcohol's diuretic effect. All the weeing, plus sweating, dehydrates you and makes you thirsty. Plus, alcohol can make you snore, or even cause sleep apnoea. All of this adds up to just a few hours of poor quality, fitful sleep. Sound familiar?

Now, this blog comes with a bit of a health warning: many alcohol addicts find that, at least initially, when they stop drinking their sleep gets worse. It can be difficult getting off to sleep when you're used to using alcohol as an anaesthetic. If this is the case for you, don't panic - give it a while to settle down and, hopefully, hours and hours of uninterrupted slumber will soon be yours.

I found that - despite years of drinking at least a bottle of wine a day - from day 1 my sleep was totally transformed.  I still find it odd trying to go to sleep without being fairly drunk. I lie in bed with the lights off, wide awake thinking "I am never going to get to sleep", and then - somehow - it's morning! A miracle!

These days I'm wide awake until around 11pm. I actually get to watch the end of TV episodes and discuss them with the husband, rather than him having to fill me in the next day. I sleep for 7 hours solid. No waking up in the middle of the night, no weird dreams or angst. I wake up feeling muggy and heavy (just like the children when they're in that floppy, not quite awake phase), but 15 minutes later I'm bouncing around like the Duracell bunny!

God, I love sleep! It's the next best thing to chocolate. It's transformed my energy levels, my mood, my life.

So, this morning I bounced out of the car with #3 outside her school and one of the Mum's calls me over. "Hey, SM," she says, "you look amazing! Have you been on a diet? I didn't recognise you from behind!"

My arse (is that 'ass' for you Americans?) is officially unrecognisable. I guess I've gone from 'bottoms up!' to 'bottom's shrunk!'

From muffin-topped, puffy faced alcohol addict to Goddess!

Day 9 today, and I am fully anticipating that this sober life is going to lead to a total transformation looks wise. After all, if I estimate that I was drinking, on average, a bottle of wine per day (just one? who am I kidding!?!?), then quitting the vino should reduce my calorie intake by a massive 600 calories per day. That's 4,200 calories per week. Cutting out 4,200 calories is like NOT EATING AT ALL for two days of the week. Hell, I'll look like Kate Moss in no time (or Cindy Crawford for my American friends ;-)). As well as cutting out the booze calories I'll also be cutting out the hangover fuelled carb-fests. And who has any willpower when facing a pudding menu after drinking a bottle of wine? Not me, certainly.

I have to confess, that so far there's not much sign of the weight falling off, but I reckon it's like turning round a super-tanker (which is, actually, how my children describe my arse), so it's going to take a while to get going.

So, in the interests of making this as scientific as possible, I'm going to give you my vital stats as a 'baseline'. Apologies for not posting a photograph - to start with I'm not ready to 'come out' yet to the Yummy Mummy community and my stiff upper lipped family, plus I've avoided being caught in any photos for years.

Here you go: Height - 5 foot 7 inches. Weight 11 stone 10 (164 pounds), BMI 25.6 - that's at the bottom end of the 'overweight' category, just above 'normal'. Dress size UK 12/14 or US 8/10.

Doesn't look too horrendous, does it? But that's because you can't see the wine belly. I have been accused of being pregnant many times over the years, especially by children (whose mothers are squirming with embarrassment). I haven't had the dire 'when's it due?' question for a while, not because the wine belly's gone, but because at 46 I'm starting to look too old for it to be probable. So now I'm fat and old with only the menopause to look forward to. Oh joy. So the wine belly HAS TO GO! Right now, if I lie in the bath and scrunch up all my belly fat with both hands (nice image there, huh? I hope you're not eating your breakfast!) it's about the size of a bottle of wine.

Having just stripped off in the kitchen and played around with pieces of sting and a metal tape measure I confess that the stomach/butt stats are as follows: waist 36 inches, belly 41 inches (!), hips 43 inches. This is why the children's favourite song to play in the car on the school run has a chorus "Watchya gonna do with that big fat butt? Viggle, viggle, viggle." This leads to hysterical laughter from everyone except me. Kids, why do we have 'em? To put this in perspective, in my early twenties my vital statistics were 36, 26, 36. Sob.

Things, as they say, can only get better! I'll check the stats again in a month and let you know how close to Cindy Crawford we're getting.

Love SM x

Related Post: Turning into a Goddess - Update