Worst Blogger Ever

I get it. My blog would be a whole lot better if I was actually … blogging. It’s not rocket surgery.

I feel bad but I have no excuse really. I’m busy. I’m a personal trainer now, I work part time in an amazing community centre and garden helping connect more people with fresh produce and a healthy lifestyle, I run a successful small bridal-wear label and of course, I’m still a mum to my precious Kid#1 and Kid#2 and married to The Captain. And …. I am gearing up to compete in even more bodybuilding shows in 2014.

So yep, I have stuff going on. But you know what? So does everyone. And that old saying is still very true;


This is important to me. YOU are important to me.

Sorry for being a crappy blogger.

Talk soon,


Giving it away for Free! Competition TIme!

Double passes that is!!

Exciting news guys, the promoters of the Australian Fitness & Health Expo (fitnessexpo.com.au) have asked me to giveaway 3 x double passes for the Saturday or Sunday (20th or 21st of April 2013)!

So I’m running a ‘post your workout pic’ competition this week and will randomly choose three winners.

Feel free to share and encourage people to be involved! I’m actually flying over for it so I’m keen too! People can enter here – http://www.facebook.com/sailorveeblog/app_79458893817

Not sure what a blatant fitness/gym selfie looks like? Have you met my friend Sarah? http://instagram.com/sarahmcgee

My other friend Cathy? http://www.iphoneogram.com/u/256060414

See, it’s easy! Get your gym gear on, get your workout on and get snapping! Post it on the competition link and you could come and hang out with me and a million other (well, lots anyway!) people at the biggest fitness expo in the Southern Hemisphere.

Why wouldn’t you?

Come on – post them here – http://www.facebook.com/sailorveeblog/app_79458893817

YAY and talk soon!
Sailor Vee

Who’s your Mama?

It’s the eve of kid#1 turning 6. Six freakin years! Where have they gone?

It makes me think though about him and about our family. What an amazing, funny, unique and charming little character he is and his vital role in our funny little band of sailors. And I think about me. The type of mum I have been, the mum I am now and the mum I want to be in the future.

You have to remember that before I threw myself headfirst into changing and saving my life,  I was weak. And very afraid. Of everything. Being a parent was no different.

I think a healthy dose of fear is a good thing in a parent. The constant ‘what if’ and reminder that they really are a big piece of your heart running around in the world on their own inspires care and considerations. But I was too afraid of life.

The fear of not doing well, the fear of him not being ‘perfect’, the fear that my own quirks would somehow splash onto him and mark him too…

I was being interviewed recently and talking about my horrendous old eating habits when the interviewer innocently asked if I was the type of mother who made sure my kids ate well but ate badly myself?

Ummm. No.

I was the bad mummy. My children ate better than I did but we still ate ‘treats’ too often, had brunch dates at fast food places and had dessert every night. My weakness with food was a bad habit being passed down.

But as I changed my own life, without a jolt or any yelling or screaming, I without thinking,  changed my children’s lives too.

I was inactive and rose to the challenge of adjusting to an active life. I ate poorly and rose to the challenge of eating well forever. But most importantly, I was timid, easily swayed and therefore made poor decisions but when challenged, I realised and clarified who I am and what I value most in the world.

My whole life changed then.

I train the way I do because I like it. I eat the way I do because I like it and it helps me train the way I like. And I love the Captain and raise the kids the way I do because I couldn’t have done any of it without their love.


What happens in Brisvegas…..

… winds up on youtube.

Just putting the following out there right now.

I worked hard last round (round 4 2012) at not working hard. Having lost 41kg I decided that I wanted time to ‘be’. To see what happens when I just live my life, train because I enjoy it and eat the foods I like (because I happen to prefer eating good foods now).

What happens is that I arrived in Brisbane for finale exactly 200 grams heavier than 12 weeks previously in Sydney. I am wrapt with that.

What was important to me during the round was enjoying this new quality of life I’ve been working towards for so long. To expand and build my strength but to be lighthearted with it. As someone who has been prone to lose perspective about my body image quite easily, I wanted to be sure that I wasn’t dependent on seeing the numbers decrease.

I’m not. I’m healthy. Fit, Strong and Happy. And I don’t give a damn about the numbers.

I’m also quite prone to being led in silliness in the company of amazing people. Which leads me to my routine end of round video. This one is officially the craziest weekend we’ve had. Lots of laughs, wine, great conversation, wine, food, walks, wine and swimming.

Lots of love and talk soon!!

What’s a Band Wagon without Cyd anyway?

Whatever it is, I’ve pretty much been off it this week.

Way less than awesome food choices, not enough training, too much wine, essentially no water….

And I hate it. I can’t imagine that this used to be my life. So today I’m going back to normal.

Not getting on some freaking wagon though. Walking the walk. This is how I want to live 🙂


Sailor Vee

PS – The only good band wagon in my vocab is this one:

Band Wagon movie poster

Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire together = bliss 🙂

Mainly because of this gorgeous creature who I wanted (and still want) to be when I grew up – Cyd Charisse. This was a kick-ass lady with LEGS and who knew how to use them 🙂

Cyd and Mr. Astaire

Cyd and Mr. Astaire

This is what I imagined I'd do for a living as a child. Sit around between takes looking glamourous :)

This is what I imagined I’d do for a living as a child. Sit around between takes looking glamorous 🙂

Legs! She had fantastically strong dancer's legs & wasn't shy about getting them out. Love her.

Legs! She had fantastically strong dancer’s legs & wasn’t shy about getting them out. Love her.

In Sickness and in Health

So I’ve been sick this week.

The sort of odd lingering sick that started as a sore throat, a weird taste in my mouth and an upset tummy – and that’s even before it turned nasty. I was in pain and no-one had a real clue what was going on. Maybe it was bad indigestion (so I ate two tubes of Quickeze), maybe it was gastro (or maybe the diarrhoea was caused by eating all the Quickeze?!?) to diet pill abuse (more on this later) and then potential kidney failure.

Fun times.

So, the diet pill abuse suggestion has been a low-light on an otherwise already pretty lame week. I went to a new GP early on in the sickness with a weird taste in my mouth and a pretty sore and upset tummy. Vague chats, no ideas offered until she saw that my last recorded weight at that clinic was over 100kg. And that I was prescribed a pretty shady diet pill at that appointment. So the questions started.

What do you weigh now? – 71kg

So you’ve lost all of that weight since last time you were here? – Yes. It’s been a year.

How many (insert brand name) pills are you taking a day? – (Insert my politely puzzled face)

The pills? I can see where they were prescribed here? Where did you get the repeats?

This is where I had to spend about 15 minutes convincing this person who knows nothing about me that isn’t on a chart that while yes, the drugs were prescribed to me, I lasted less than a week on them before flushing them. This particular diet pill is essentially speed. It made my heart race, my palms sweat, any notion of sleep impossible and made it SUPER CLEAR that I should not and would not be in charge of my then newborn and young child while on it. Maybe my reaction was out of the ordinary , but some quick googling says no.

But New Doctor, feeling all proud of her detective skills is sure that the only way I could have lost 41kg is with these evil things. And that I’m now lying about it. Awesome.

So the questions circle round and around. By the time I’ve explained what I eat, how often I work out, my understanding of my previous and current BMI and the ins and outs of every weigh in this year – she lets it go.

I was angry. I was being judged on who I used to be. I wanted to make a bigger deal of how wrong she was, point out how hard I’ve worked to save my life and why. But I didn’t. I accepted that on her chart, I may very well be the same sad, desperate fat girl looking for the easy out. The girl who was prepared to do anything BUT change her life. It’s like an old photo – you can’t change them, but you can use them to reflect upon.

PS – She still has no idea why I’m sick. And now I’m not a secret junkie, she’s bored with me and tells me to take more Quickeze.

I leave, with my stomach churned up more than it was as I went in. I take some time to think this through and decide that being incorrectly called a diet pill abuser is a compliment. Taking a leaf out of my darling friend Cathy’s book actually. Her AMAZING before and after photos were posted on a facebook page once and almost immediately there was the insinuation that the photos were fakes because the transformation was too dramatic. Lesser mortals would be hurt or offended. Cathy’s take – it’s a compliment. It means that what we have achieved is so awesome it’s beyond what those people can even imagine. And I can be okay with that. And a better GP.

I’m getting better. I’ve seen another doctor and now a naturopath as well. It was a shock to the system being unwell after having nothing more than minor sniffles for the last twelve months. Who’da thunk eating well, moving your ass, reducing stress and having a better outlook on life would make a person so damn healthy?

I was well enough to go back to the gym today for a pretty cruisy session and I’m glad I did. I don’t exercise for any other reason than I love it at the moment. I feel better when I do and looking better is a bonus. It’s a mad mad crazy change from a year ago huh?

People know your name, not your story. They’ve heard what you’ve done, but not what you’ve been through.  So take their opinions of you with a grain of salt.  In the end, it’s not what others think, it’s what you think about yourself that counts.  Sometimes you have to do exactly what’s best for you and your life, not what’s best for everyone else.

**Great thought for the day from the great blog Marc and Angel


Sailor Vee

This is not the post I wanted to write.

So, in the almost 5 days that I’ve been home I’ve been planning what to write in my epic ‘post Sydney’ post. I was thinking of writing about some behind the scenes news on my Woman’s Day photo-shoot, the hilariously fun fashion parade I modelled in for One Active, my awesome finale dress, the great night out I had with the girls and the million other things I loved about being away.

But I didn’t write that post. I kept holding off. I kept finding excuses.

Something about the trip to Sydney has really freaked me out.

I have no idea what I look like.

It snuck up on me. At the photoshoot for Woman’s Day on the Friday, the amazing photographer George (http://fetting.com.au/) regularly let me check the monitors and of course the girls and I were selfie-photo mad. So I saw lots of images of myself. I looked fit. Active. Healthy. And in my wildly active imagination, my natty red, white and blue outfit made me look like a member of the US Olympic swim team. And that’s exactly how I felt.



I didn’t feel like a supermodel, or anything special. But I did feel like it was an accurate capturing of where I am. And I loved that. I got the same feeling at the workout the next day. Even in the quick snapshots on the day, I was happy. Fit, healthy, smaller than I feel in my head – but that’s great.



I had an AMAZING time at the finale. As a member of the top 20, I got to be up on stage and wave to everyone. And I won ‘blogger of the round’ which is super lovely and a real honour. I LOVED meeting so many people and felt uber glamorous. Until I saw some of the photos. People would snap a photo and show me the screen and each time I would feel a little weirder.

It’s not that I didn’t like the way I looked. The person in the photos looked great. But my head couldn’t in any way reconcile that it was me. It was confusing. So I ignored it. But for people playing the ‘has she lost her mind’ game at home, it was photos like these:




I tried desperately not to think about it until I got home. Living in the travel bubble, it’s easy to hide from the internet if you want to.

Something hasn’t been sitting right in my head since I got home. Part of it is the ‘come-down’ of a MASSIVE weekend. It’s seriously hard to imagine how busy/awesome/refreshing/challenging it is to hang out with some of my favorite people while getting to/from photo-shoots, fashion parades, in and out of hair and make-up sessions, dinners and breakfasts out. To come back to my normal life is both blissful and disruptively ‘normal’.

But where the freakout truly is is in those finale photos. In that weird mental break where I realise undoubtedly that I still have quite a skewed perspective of how I look. It’s not that ‘wow, I didn’t realise I was so pretty!’ surprise. It’s a complete mental inability to realise that person in the photos is me.

As someone who has struggled with body image and body dysmorphia my whole life, knowing that I am still not on top of this worries me. It means that there is scope for me to not be in control.

So I need to learn who I am all over again. While I’m still training with the aim of continuing to change and improve my body. This becomes the opposite of Operation Short Term, Hard Core. This becomes Operation Rest of my Life.

And I’m not quite sure on a plan of attack right now. So when in doubt, I go back to my default plan. For two days there that was wine and a lot of processed foods. Enough now. I know what I need to do while I get my head straight.

Eat clean, move my ass, repeat.

Love (and thanks as always for listening to the rants of a Sailor Vee adrift)