This was the first time I’d strapped my feet to two long bits of fibreglass since I was twelve…and even then, I had stuck to the bunny slope where you are most likely to find four-year-olds tobogganing. Thankfully, I am marginally more daring now (although my default stance is the slower snowplough) and ventured off the bunny slope. I had actually intended to take the free beginner’s lesson at 11am, but unbeknownst to me, the lesson was actually held halfway up the mountain, not right at the top. So I got off the chairlift at the top at 10.55am, where I was told I would have to ski down to the lesson. It took me till 11.15am to get to the lesson (stacking it about ten times along the way), by which point I decided to just pick up skiing through trial and error rather than through a lesson with fifty other people.

I fell about a dozen times on my first time down Blue Bullet (see map of trails). Then once on my second time. Then I didn’t fall at all on all subsequent runs down the Blue Bullet slope. I graduated myself to Holden Express and only fell on my first two runs, and aced all the following runs. I then tried the intermediate Shakey Knees run…and almost killed myself on a jump. Let’s just assume that I’m not ready for that level of skiing. I stuck to Holden Express for the rest of the afternoon and even managed to get myself into a speed skiing stance at a few points.

…I’m actually way more athletic than I generally make myself out to be. I was on the chairlift at one point with a few guys who were also skiing for the first time. Halfway through the day, they will still stacking it every fifteen metres and crashing into people, where I had already graduated to longer and steeper runs, and was a pro at skiing around other people. Perhaps I’m just naturally talented? A quick learner? Not to mention I do it in pink scarf style.

I’m aching all over now, two days later, but I fell in love with skiing. I’m planning on buying some ski gear when I’m in America (it’s much cheaper than buying it in Australia), and making skiing twice a year a ‘thing’ I do. The only thing is that the closest snowfields are about five and a half hours drive from Sydney, whereas the Melbourne ones are about three hours away. It’s the difference between a daytrip (what I did on the weekend) and having to stay overnight, which makes it a much more costly exercise…

These are the leopard print shorts I alluded to two months ago. They are the piece of clothing I am using as my guide to how much weight/inches I want to lose. They fit. They don’t fit like they used to, when I could slip them on and off without undoing buttons, but it’s a whole heap better than when I started this fitness kick and I was actually almost unable to do up the button.

It’s been very hard for me to actually see the changes in my body. The numbers on the scale haven’t changed. But (and this may all come down to perception based on the fact that the shorts are now ‘fitting’) I’m starting to think there are small changes everywhere. My thighs seem just slightly smaller and less likely to chafe when I walk. My upper arms seem slightly less bingo-wingy. My butt seems to have less ‘extra bits’. And even my torso which has traditionally been the area I struggle most to get in shape seems to be less roll-y and more solid-mass-y. (Awesome vocabulary, I has it.)

In exercise news, my body is clearly not designed for hula hooping. Watching me attempt hula hooping for half an hour, my flatmate remarked that I probably got more beneficial exercise from constantly bending over to pick it up than I did from actually hula hooping. That’s a pretty effective summary of exactly how much I suck. And here I was thinking I would be a pro considering my experience in moving my hips.

Anyway, fitting into these shorts has given me some semblance of hope. What I am doing works. It doesn’t work quickly, but it works!

So I made the decision to get off Implanon. Considering my current circumstances, the negatives far outweighed the positives. I can handle getting my period again (and should probably have it after months of not menstruating at all). I don’t exactly need hormonal birth control if there’s no foreseeable penis in my future. And quite frankly, the acne I’ve had in the past two and a half years as a result of the Implanon’s hormones has been uncontrollable. I now have extremely noticeable acne scarring on my face where once I had clear skin. Quite simply, I’m sick of it. So I had my Implanon taken out, and the doctor at Family Planning Victoria prescribed me Estelle to help with my skin problems.

I cannot rave about Family Planning Victoria enough. I encourage all Victorians to join up as members for extremely reasonable annual rates: free under the age of 18, $10AUD for students over 18 and health care card holders, or $35AUD for adults. With this annual fee you get unlimited free visits to their clinics. To put this cost into perspective, a single visit to my doctor will cost me about $20 after the Medicare rebate. Currently as a student, one visit is sufficient to recoup my investment into Family Planning Victoria. As an adult, I would recoup the investment if I visited the doctor twice a year (once for birth control pill refills, another for a Pap smear or other vaginal issues).

More importantly, a visit to Family Planning Victoria is absolutely incredible when compared to the type of experience you might have at a standard health clinic. I would spend a maximum of fifteen minutes in with my GP. By contrast, I was at FPV for about an hour, talking over all my options for contraception, getting my Implanon taken out, doing a STI test, and having the receptionist, the triage nurse, the other nurse, and the doctor all shove packs of free condoms into my hands. I now have enough condoms to last me till the day I die.

Victorians, I encourage you to look after your sexual health and become a member of Family Planning Victoria today!

In regards to my job applications, I removed my residential address from my letterhead and immediately got an informational phone call. After talking with the HR coordinator, I came to the conclusion that that particular role wasn’t right for me and turned down the chance for an interview, but the very fact that I got a phone call after removing my address has proved to me that I actually am employable. Distance was clearly not my friend when applying for jobs, but hopefully my luck picks up now that I’ve removed my address.

I’m getting on quite well with my new housemate. I do find it difficult to understand him at times though, which is probably a combination of the Kiwi accent and the fact that he’s a mumbling kind of guy. We’re probably friendlier than I was with Mr. Swedish Future Doctor who was quite solitary. His girlfriend is moving to Australia in two weeks, so he’s likely to be moving out within a month anyway.

I’m slowly getting used to my haircut. It’s requiring me to blow dry my hair at night, and use smoothing serum and all that kind of stuff though…which is about 100% more time than I used to spend on my hair.

You can still sponsor me for Run Melbourne! The event is in two weeks, so there’s still plenty of time to donate a few dollars. I’m hoping that the blister on my heel (caused by a new pair of runners) will heal by then. How ironic though, that a new pair of runners might throw into jeopardy my participation in the run, and reduce me to hobbling my way through the race.

I have purchased something that means I don’t need to have a man around. Let’s just leave it at that.

I’ve not planned much for my trip to America in October. To tell you the truth, the initial euphoria has lifted, and I’m really just playing a waiting game at the moment. It all seems so far away, and there’s so much happening in my life between now and then. I probably won’t make any definite plans until September. A high school friend has decided to come along for the trip, and has booked the same flights. I do normally prefer travelling alone (you get to spend time doing what you want to do, not what others want to do), but I have the feeling it would be a lot more fun travelling America with a girlfriend, road trip style. At the moment we’re planning on doing Los Angeles, driving down to San Diego, Greyhounding to Las Vegas, Amtraking to San Francisco, flying to Seattle, flying to Vancouver and back to Los Angeles for a flight back out. I do enjoy meeting up with ‘internet people’, so if you fancy going out to dinner or something, do let me know!

I’m still actively using my cross-trainer a number of nights each week, so it hasn’t become one of those cliched pieces of exercise equipment that just sit in the corner gathering dust. It gets a bit squeaky every now and again, so I spray a bit of canola oil on it occasionally. I should probably be using proper axle grease (or whatever it is you’re supposed to use on squeaky hinges), but I’m clearly not DIY enough to own that. Canola spray oil will do as a substitute!

I’ve become surgically attached to my iPhone. I’m a bit worried about it though – reception has been playing up a bit and I’ve been having problems receiving calls, sending texts, etc. I don’t know whether that’s a network or hardware issue though…I have to find some time to take it to the Genius Bar.

I got a Distinction for my Masters unit this semester. One more unit to go…next semester will be killer though. Study materials don’t come out until late July, and I leave the country for a month by early October. I need to do thirteen weeks worth of study and two assignments in eight weeks, in order to have everything done before I go on holiday. And there’s really no other choice – I don’t want to have to do homework while I’m on holiday!

And finally for something totally unrelated to any previous entries, I am trying to convince my parents to pay for my brother and me to go to Greece and Italy for two weeks over the Christmas break. Essentially, they don’t like him sitting around at home playing video games on the school holidays. The only place he’s recently shown interest in visiting is Greece and Rome because he’s been studying mythology and ancient history. I’ve never been to Greece and Rome. My parents would never want to go to Greece and Rome.

My conclusion – they should pay for flights and accommodation for me to take my brother to experience some culture and history. I’ll pay for food, souvenirs, sight-seeing, in-country transport, and all that other stuff for both of us. It’s a win win situation. My parents don’t have my brother sitting at home through the school holidays. He gets to visit some places he’s actually interested in with the guidance of someone who’s used to travelling independently of a generic tour group. I get a significantly cheaper trip to Europe. I don’t see how this suggestion could be at all bad.

Oh, I’ve kept up my exercise routine. I exercise at least five nights each week – the same half an hour to forty-five minutes on the elliptical in front of the TV, or the hour and a half power walk on the streets with ankle weights. This week I even played indoor soccer for one of my cousin’s women’s league games, as they were short one player. My gluts are still sore and my knees are still bruised from playing goalie and diving onto a wooden floor to save goals (we won…).

I’m still trying to do incidental exercise where possible. I’m still getting off at a train station across the city and walking an extra ten minutes to work. I’m walking up the stairs at the station, rather than taking the escalator. I’m still going out for a short walk on my lunch break. The other weekend when the sun actually came out and the weather was fine, I even walked the forty-five minutes to the local library to drop off my books (hour and a half round trip) rather than driving ten minutes.

With some small exceptions a few times a week when certain colleagues and evil people like Adam force me to have some chocolate, I’m eating healthily. There’s generally a vegetable element to my meals, and very little meat, and I’m learning slowly to manage my portions better, even when it means supplementing a more meagre work lunch with some fruit later in the afternoon.

None of it is working.

I’m not demanding an instant miracle…just a sign, any sign, that I’m making some progress. I’m almost at a point of such extreme desperation that when I see a daily deal for infrared sauna sessions, guaranteeing “Lose 5-8kg of fat, decrease cellulite and improve your skin in four weeks without exercise”, I am tempted to buy into quack science.

However after washing my hair on Sunday, let’s just say that no photos will be going up any time soon. Somehow you just can’t replicate the silky smooth salon finish at home, and what was cute and whimsical one day, is just a flyaway mess the next.

A friend introduced me to the term butterface when she came over to watch the Royal Wedding footage with me. It’s essentially the new version of a Monet from the 1995 movie Clueless: “It’s like the painting. Seen from far away, it’s okay; but up close, it’s a big ol’ mess.” Or as my friend explained it, “She’s got a nice body, but her face (butterface)…”.

This was, by the way, in reference to Pippa Middleton. Nice body apparently (though I think she’s a bit too thin, but it seems like it runs in the family), but her face…

It reminds me actually of something an older woman once told me – that once you get past a certain age, you have to decide whether to sacrifice your body, or your face. You either keep your figure but show every wrinkle on your face, or you get plump to fill out the wrinkles. Or I guess, you stay thin and opt for Botox to fill out the wrinkles.

In the past month, I’ve been averaging between half an hour and an hour and half’s worth of exercise most nights. This ranges from my elliptical, to power walking on the streets late at night, to doing daily training exercises that I downloaded onto my iPhone (primarily Arm Exercises and Butt Exercises). I’ve been doing a lot of air cycling (where you lie on your back on the ground and cycle your legs in the air) in front of the television as well. I try to mix it up a bit – if I go out for a power walk, it’s generally for no less than an hour, so I don’t bother doing anything else. Or, I’ll switch it up by doing the short exercises in the ad breaks of a TV show, but the elliptical during the show itself.

On the nights that I don’t get a chance to exercise (e.g. if I’m going out for dinner with friends after work and don’t get home until 10pm), I try to incorporate unintentional exercise in other ways. I’ll get off at a train station on the other side of the city, rather than the one five minutes from work, and walk the rest of the way (plus ten minutes walk!). I’ll make sure I go out for a walk during my lunch break instead of eating my lunch at my desk the way I normally do (plus twenty minutes walk). I’ll run up the stairs at the underground train station instead of standing on the escalator (plus one minute cardio). And so on, and so forth.

Have I actually lost kilos or inches? Unfortunately I don’t think so. I borrowed a set of scales from my parents house, and judging by the scales, I clearly fluctuate in weight so much (most dramatic so far – three kilos within one day!), that my weight really can’t be an accurate measure. I also clearly haven’t lost any inches – I’m using a pair of leopard print short shorts as a guide (don’t judge, I wear them as boardshorts on the beach!). They used to fit so loosely that I could pull them on and off without undoing buttons or zips. I’m currently bursting buttons. I want to get back to the point where these shorts are loose again.

I’m having more difficulty diet-wise. It’s not as though I can eat a healthier meal instead of McDonald’s and immediately lose five kilos, because I’ve always eaten relatively healthy. I just need to eat less. Unfortunately, eating less isn’t something I can do automatically, because my body has become accustomed to processing a certain amount of food each day. If I was to immediately halve that amount, I’ll find myself craving snacks in the middle of the night. I need to gradually cut meal portions down, and have started doing things like instead of eating my whole serve of leftover pasta for lunch in one go, I’ll eat half of it at 12pm, and the other half at 3pm when I get the afternoon munchies. Or once a week, instead of taking leftovers to work for lunch, I’ll take some yoghurt and fruit, and drink copious cups of tea to deal with any hunger pangs.

I have to say, it’s rather discouraging to step up my exercise routine by this much (I was quite literally a couch potato), and to try to make changes in my diet, and have nothing tangible to show for it. What can I do though, but continue the fight? I’m thinking of buying a weighted hula hoop so I can work more on my midriff, which I think is one of my main problem areas. Basically, I need to keep coming up with ways of diversifying my exercise routine so I don’t become too complacent and/or bored and unmotivated.

I was a size 12 right through my teenage years, and have hovered around the size 12/14 mark for the past four years. I am now decidedly a large size 14, and I’m not happy. I only have myself to blame – an increasingly sedentary job in an office environment (yes, I run events, but 80% of my job is still in an office), a poorer diet when living alone, some degree of comfort eating in the light of certain personal issues and a tendency to just veg out in the evenings when I get home all adds up to becoming a lardarse. It is my aim to lose seven kilos. Losing seven kilos would bring me back to a comfortable body shape. I could start wearing my more form fitting dresses again. I would like to lose twelve kilos, which might get me to the stage where I’d look hot rocking a miniskirt and hooker heels again.

Diet is something I’ve been considering, with some options being meal replacement shakes for breakfast, or joining a program like Lite N’ Easy where they deliver all your calorie-controlled meals to you. The easier option of course would be learning how to do portion control, which is a problem for someone with issues with self-control and comfort eating. In terms of exercise, since the end of March, I have been doing thirty to forty minutes on the elliptical every night I’ve been home. That’s around fifteen to sixteen nights of exercise of medium intensity exercise so far. While this may all be psychological, I feel like it’s already making a little bit of a difference – in general fitness if nothing else. I’m also hoping to get off at a train station further away from my workplace on the three days a week that I work in the city, and get an extra half hour walk.

So what’s going to happen is that I’m going to post a photo of me in this exact outfit on the 21st of each month (I’m too embarrassed to show myself in a bikini like I have previously). I don’t own a scale so I have no idea how much I weigh exactly, but I care more about how I look, than how much I weigh. Please feel free to point out every bit of cellulite and dimply skin you see. Point out every bulge and excess flab. All criticism can only help spur me on to want to get myself into better shape!

One of the many life lessons the Babysitter’s Club book series (along with: always hide stashes of candy around your room, thirteen year olds have amazing adventures, and old farmhouses always have hidden passages) taught me was diabetics are always thirsty, as that’s how Stacey McGill found out she was diabetic. Lately, I’ve been feeling exactly the same way. I can drink five large mugs of tea in the space of an hour at work, and still be parched. I’ve drunk an entire litre of water throughout and after a short half-hour work out session, and still be dying for more water.

Does anyone else have any possible diagnoses that will perhaps actually allow me to continue to consume absurd amounts of triple chocolate cake and not have to give myself shots?