So close….

I fly out in 48 hours.

It’s hard to accurately convey the level of ‘freaked right out of my skull’ I am.

It’s not about the finale (I do love getting frocked up), it’s not about the workout (whats not to love about jumping around with thousands of sweaty happy people?). It’s not even about the AMAZING TOP SECRET stuff I’ll also be doing while I’m there 🙂

It’s about the kidlets.

Leaving kid#1 and baby kid#2 with my mum for 5 days has me off-the-show nervous. A mum’s head is full of the million tiny bits of information needed to keep it together – and there are only so many lists I can write.

So, like always, I’m off to the gym. Lifting heavy won’t get me organised any faster. But it will make me hotter when I finally get there!

Mwah (and see you soon 12wbt peeps)

Sailor Vee


No idea why I'm sideways! 🙂

Attack of the CBF’s

For the uninitiated, CBF is an acronym (and hopefully slightly less offensive term) for CAN’T BE F#CKED.

I’d love to have been able to tell you that Operation Short Term Hard Core was coming along swimmingly. That I was taking the increased training (including doubling of my cardio), the super strict clean eating rules that I apply to my 12wbt eating plan and the pressure of being so close to attaining my goals – in my stride.

Most of the time, I have been.

Today, I did not.

Today there was a killer attack of the CBF’s. I woke up, got the baby out of bed, changed him and fed kid#1 and kid#2 their breakfast. By fed, I mean cooked and left them with it. Then I went back to bed. CBF getting up right now.

I woke up realising I now only had 15 minutes to get kid#1 ready for school and myself and kid#2 dressed and ready for school drop-off. I toyed with the idea of just not taking the child to school. Home day for everyone. Such was the extent of the CBF.

But I did it. School drop off done. To the gym.

From the moment I had to lever myself out of the car I knew it was going to be a hard slog.

My heart wasn’t in it. I stomped my way through a warm up on the elliptical, tossed out some half-hearted sets of chest and arm weights, had to do my pushups from my knees rather than my toes and generally felt flat and hopeless. After finishing a short session with more cardio for a measly 300-ish calories I left. I just couldn’t shake the CBF’s.

I felt crappy about it all day.

So I went to get a spray tan to trial a colour before the trip to the 12wbt finale. Little known fact: This little Sailor is fair as fair. Like, I’m blue. But blue will not cut it in glamorous Sydney.

Apparently getting a tan is a simple process. Get 99% nude, let a total stranger spray you with tint and then tell you not to sweat, bump or brush past things, let any moisture touch you in any way. For at least two hours.

I suck at spray tans. Or at not ruining them in the LONGEST 2 HOURS EVER.

Actually I made all the marks in the first 20 minutes. It’s not great.

spraytan fail

How to ruin a spray tan in 20 Minutes


But something magical happened in the time I spent trying desperately not to ruin my tan (whilst ruining it anyway). I decided to tell the mental CBF’s to Eff Off.

I went back to the gym. I did a pump class using the heaviest weights I’m capable of. I poured sweat. Then I jumped on my slow cardio machines for another hour. I came out of there just shy of 1000 calories.

Moral of the story? J F D I

Just F#cking Do It.

I won’t wake up everyday wanting to slog it out at the gym. I won’t love every session I do. Hell, I didn’t even remotely like either of my trips to the gym today. But I did it. And consistency will get me everywhere I want to go.

It won’t help my tan though, that’s f#cked.


Sailor Vee

Hold the bus, my head isn’t here yet

My whole life I’ve struggled with not having a clear and realistic image of what I look like.

When I was a teenager I thought I was pretty chubby (I wasn’t) so I dieted. Toyed with the idea of weight loss really.

At university I was sure I was fat (I wasn’t) so I gave dieting a solid crack. I thought I wasn’t losing weight (I was) so I fought harder. I learned enough about calories to cut them out until my head swam.

I got mad and angry at my body for not being thin (it was) – so I fought as though I could punish and wither my body into the shape I imagined it should be.

But the mirror in my mind was a fucking liar.

Things got a little out of control there for quite a while. It was a rough time and it took me a long time to get remotely okay.

Then I met The Captain. He actually loved me. As I was. Even when I couldn’t. And I gradually got proper okay.

Fast forward many years and post children and without the care and attention it needed, my body had EXPLODED. The same me who used to cry and lock myself in bathrooms over 100 gram gains tried to mentally assure myself that it was all okay. It would go away. While eating a packet of biscuits.

But I secretly knew that I really was the largest person in the room, the fattest mum in the pool and the jiggliest person out walking. I had met the horror of being the nightmare I’d felt for all of those years.

Through the 12wbt and the process that losing 34-ish kg so far has been, the hardest part for me has been accepting that I’m changing. That I’m fitter, healthier, stronger and happier than I’ve  ever been.

Every day, something happens to make me realise that my brain hasn’t kept up. That the mirror in my head still fibs to me.

I rubbed my arms in the car this morning and realised that I don’t have huge bingo wings. Did 80% of my arm fat disappear overnight? I’ve been too afraid to wear short sleeves but it appears they are completely socially acceptable upper arms.

I was wearing a skirt last week and caught a glimpse of my legs in a shop window and had to stop. I have shapely legs. Smaller at the ankle than they are at the calf and small again at the knee. Muscled and toned above that. It had never occurred to me that my legs had stopped being the solid knotty tree-trunks they were.

I haven’t bought new pants since about 10-15 kilos ago. It means everything I own is baggy and embarrassingly, my sz 14 jeans FELL OFF in the supermarket yesterday. But buying anything smaller seems ridiculous when I’m in a shop so I don’t try them on.

My brain doesn’t comprehend that I am MUCH smaller than I used to be. I’m very lucky to have great friends and a stunning husband who call me out when I refer to myself or say things about my body that aren’t true anymore.

The body is well on it’s way and isn’t stopping for anyone. The brain will catch up. Someday soon I hope.


Sailor Vee

Were you eating dirty before?

Seriously. That’s the response I go today when trying to explain to a family member that I have some important goals coming up and I’m making a real commitment to eat clean in the coming weeks.

No, I wasn’t eating dirty before. It sounds gross.

I guess the better question this pelican could have asked is “What is clean eating?”

There are lots of rules and schools of thought. Some believe it’s a full caveman diet where if you couldn’t grow it, catch it or kill it, you can’t eat it.

Paleo food pyramid

Some believe it’s just cutting the evil big corporation junk food out of your life.

I don’t CARE if you have the calories spare. Say no.

For me, it’s somewhere in between.

A great guide is one that I found on the website of Clean Eating Magazine (

What is Clean Eating?

The soul of clean eating is consuming food in its most natural state, or as close to it as possible. It is not a diet; it’s a lifestyle approach to food and its preparation, leading to an improved life – one meal at a time.

Eat five to six times a day – three meals and two to three small snacks. Include a lean protein, plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, and a complex carbohydrate with each meal. This keeps your body energised and burning calories efficiently all day long.

Drink at least two litres of water a day (preferably from a reusable canteen, not plastic; we’re friends of the environment here!).

Get label-savvy. Clean foods contain just one or two ingredients. Any product with a long ingredient list is human-made and not considered clean.

Avoid processed and refined foods such as white flour, sugar, bread and pasta. Enjoy complex carbs such as whole grains instead.

Know the enemies. Steer clear of anything high in saturated and trans fats, anything fried or anything high in sugar.

Shop with a conscience. Consume humanely raised and local meats.

Consume healthy fats (essential fatty acids, or EFAs) every day.

Learn about portion sizes and work toward eating within them. 

Reduce your carbon footprint. Eat produce that is seasonal and local. It is less taxing on your wallet and our environment.

Drink water with a lemon wedge instead. A glass of red wine for a special occasion is OK but it should be a rare indulgence. The health benefits of red wine are reversed after more than one glass a day.

Slow down and savour. Never rush through a meal. Food tastes best when savoured. Enjoy every bite.

Take it to go. Pack a cooler for work or outings so you always have clean eats on the go.

Make it a family affair. Food is a social glue that should be shared with loved ones. Improve the quality of your family’s life along with your own.

Your body will love you for it 🙂


Sailor Vee

What was I supposed to do this morning?? D’OH!!

Oh that’s right, weigh in!

Silly old me rolled out of bed after a rubbish night with kid#2 and zombie strolled straight into the kitchen. Had my wake up glass of water. Made and drank a coffee. Made and ate my omelette, fiddled with my new eyelash extensions (did you know you can get bed-eyelashes?!)…

Feels like this.

then I realised it was Wednesday. Weigh in day. And I’d already filled my little round tummy with food and a tasty beverage. Given the last few days on the farm I can’t really afford to be carrying extra on the scales.

I jumped on the scales anyway. 100gram gain from last week. How much do you think an omelette, mug of coffee and a big glass of water weighs anyway? 🙂

I’ve made an executive decision – I’ll weigh in tomorrow morning.

Silly old me.

Sailor Vee

Red Alert – Weigh in day is WHEN??

Okay. Hit the button.

Last night, before bed, I spied a set of scales in my parent’s house. And this morning as if I were being pulled by a dark and mysterious force – I did a sneaky weigh in.

Holy Snapping Duck Poop. My weight flashed merrily as 2kg heavier than last week’s weigh in.

Now, after the calf muscle panic incident I was very careful to plot out the possibilities.

1) My parent’s scales are stuffed. Clearly they weigh inaccurately and about 3kg heavier than my scales at home.

2) I KNOW that I shouldn’t do sneaky weigh ins as my weight can fluctuate wildly during a week and maybe I’ve just caught it when it was ‘fluct’ right up 🙂

3) The sneaky deviations from my plan to survive the food here have indeed caught up with me.

I’ve got my money on a combination of points 2 and 3.

I have 48 hours before weigh in day. While if I have somehow gained 2kg, 48 hours isn’t enough time to fix that damage – taking stock and getting my nutrition back on track is  step number one. In the past, if I knew I’d screwed up, I’d revel in a few days of eating badly, before slowly moseying on back to the wagon to get back on. Not these days. Back on the horse right now.

The farm is a very high-carb place. High carb and I have never mixed. So I’m going to minimise those as much as is reasonably possible while I’m still here and enjoy the super fresh higher protein foods about.

So, breakfast has looked like this:

2 small farm fresh eggs as an omelet (no milk added), super finely grated carrot, zucchini, 1 teaspoon of fine grated parmesan cheese and some red cabbage.

1.5 lt water

2 instant coffees with skim milk (I know this should be a green tea but there is none here and I needed caffeine to overcome the scale shock)

So according to the super addictive My Fitness Pal ( – I’m at 151 calories so far.

I really want my metabolism to get chugging along nicely so will be back shortly for a high protein snack 🙂

10am – Snack time!

Yes, it is the weirdest spoon ever. The farm is a funny place.

I want to point out that I’m aware this isn’t a perfect snack. For the last year I’ve been nearly 100% artificial sweetener free and I’m pretty sure this little puppy is packed to the gunnels with them. I’ve got some great tips about better yoghurts to choose next shopping trip 🙂 My Fitness Pal now has me sitting at 217 calories.

4pm – Okay the day has taken an awesome but slightly food-chaotic turn. My appointments have blown out and the food I have consumed since my 10am yoghurt is this:

Yes, tall skinny latte please. 😦

It was a very tall latte, but it certainly was not a suitable lunch replacement. Oops. My fitness pal has me sitting at 367 calories so far today. Not good enough!

See you soon,

Sailor Vee

The fittest hypochondriac in town!

Everyone relax! I’m not dying. Right now.

I was chilling out on my Sunday here at the farm when I rubbed my lower leg only to be freaked out by a large hard lump in the back of my leg, under my knee.

My first thought was some sort of sub-muscular tumour. Getting that checked out was going to involve a very long needle. I thought about posting on the very helpful Lean and Strong forum asking if others had encountered similar lumpiness. I thought about what would happen if I couldn’t exercise my legs any more for the rest of the round. How much could I achieve with my nutrition alone?

In panic I checked if I’d lost any movement in my foot. I flexed my foot back and forth.

The lump appears to be my calf muscle.

Calf Stretch – This is what it looks like on a farm.


Call off the National Guard. I’m going to be be okay.


Sailor Vee