Photo
January 25, 2011
Ok so my inner nerd thought it might be kinda cool to chart my progress on a weekly basis. So last week I collected a set of baseline measurements - body weight plus chest, waist, hip, thigh and bicep measurements. Then I collected data again this morning. The data suggests we’re certainly going in the right direction! There’s been a total weight loss of 1.1kg and a decrease in chest, bicep and waist measurements. Increases in hip and thigh measurements are exactly as I expected - I’ve been training legs and glutes quite rigorously over the last few days and I’m not surprised that they’re larger. It’ll be interesting to see how this all changes in the coming weeks.

Ok so my inner nerd thought it might be kinda cool to chart my progress on a weekly basis.

So last week I collected a set of baseline measurements - body weight plus chest, waist, hip, thigh and bicep measurements. Then I collected data again this morning.

The data suggests we’re certainly going in the right direction! There’s been a total weight loss of 1.1kg and a decrease in chest, bicep and waist measurements. Increases in hip and thigh measurements are exactly as I expected - I’ve been training legs and glutes quite rigorously over the last few days and I’m not surprised that they’re larger. It’ll be interesting to see how this all changes in the coming weeks.

Photo
January 25, 2011
Pre training drink. 60 cal, 15gm carbs.

Pre training drink. 60 cal, 15gm carbs.

Photo
January 24, 2011
Desert

Desert

Photo
January 24, 2011
Post workout dinner: Moroccan spiced chicken breast, broccoli and fine green beans.

Post workout dinner: Moroccan spiced chicken breast, broccoli and fine green beans.

Photo
January 24, 2011
The afternoon snack: a loaded teaspoon of crunchy peanut butter.

The afternoon snack: a loaded teaspoon of crunchy peanut butter.

Tags: snacks peanut butter

Photo
January 24, 2011
2 notes
Lunch: a bazillion different kinds of leaves, cucumber, half a carrot, half a small red capsicum, half a small yellow capsicum, one spring onion stalk, alfalfa sprouts, radish sprouts, bean sprouts, grilled organic pesto chicken breast. Deeeeelicious!

Lunch: a bazillion different kinds of leaves, cucumber, half a carrot, half a small red capsicum, half a small yellow capsicum, one spring onion stalk, alfalfa sprouts, radish sprouts, bean sprouts, grilled organic pesto chicken breast. Deeeeelicious!

Tags: Diet lunch salad pesto chicken

Photo
January 24, 2011
Breakfast: Porridge mixed with almond meal, blueberries, and light soy milk. A white coffee also made with light soy and a teaspoon of agave nectar.

Breakfast: Porridge mixed with almond meal, blueberries, and light soy milk. A white coffee also made with light soy and a teaspoon of agave nectar.

Photo
January 18, 2011
Dieting sucks. There’s no two ways about it. I need to loose about 12kg in the next three months and I’m not looking forward to the arduous process. The need for the weight loss is three fold. The first is for the fight - if I don’t loose the weight I’m going to wind up facing a 6’2”, 90kg lesbian biker. Not that there’s anything wrong with 6’2”, 90kg lesbian bikers - it’s just that I’m likely to get my face mashed-in if I have to compete against one in the ring. Besides, if there’s less of me to move around, I might actually perform a little better. The second is for basic health and well being - I’m waaaaay too heavy for my height and I really do need to shave off the extra poundage for a host of reasons. The third is for aesthetics - let’s face it, who wants to wobble when they walk? I saw a photograph of myself from 11 years ago when I was a wiry, whippet, ass-kicking athlete and it rocked. Besides, bikini season is coming and I’d like to wear mine without fear of Greenpeace throwing a bucket of water over me before trying to roll me back into the ocean. Of course spending the last two weeks laid up with a chest infection, on antibiotics and completely unable to train hasn’t helped. Neither has my complete lack of self control in the face of delicious high sugar, high fat naughty food. Not exactly a winning combination for someone who is attempting a return to athletic competition. So yesterday marked my reversion not only to the dietary straight and narrow but also to the gym. Despite rapid fire coughing that had me sounding like an AK-4/Seal hybrid, I managed a 30 minute boxing session before decamping to the cardio machines. I still can’t run for more than 10 minutes thanks to the calf injury so the bike and cross trainer played host to my gasping, sweating out-of-shape efforts. To say I’m hurting today would be the understatement of the century. Most of all, my greatest pain is with food. I’ve been good these last two days - a black coffee porridge with almond flakes and light soy milk for breakfast; celery sticks with a tablespoon of peanut butter as my mid morning snack; green salad, poached trout and toast for lunch; celery sticks mid afternoon and grilled chicken breast with steamed veggies for dinner. It’s not the shortage of food that’s killing me (I’m not actually hungry) - is the total lack of sweet stuff. I’m ADDICTED to sugar and the cravings are driving me nuts! I know they’ll abate in the next couple of weeks but in the meantime, I guarantee I’m going to be a cranky biatch. Lucky I’ve got pads and a bag to take it out on, eh?

Dieting sucks. There’s no two ways about it. I need to loose about 12kg in the next three months and I’m not looking forward to the arduous process.

The need for the weight loss is three fold. The first is for the fight - if I don’t loose the weight I’m going to wind up facing a 6’2”, 90kg lesbian biker. Not that there’s anything wrong with 6’2”, 90kg lesbian bikers - it’s just that I’m likely to get my face mashed-in if I have to compete against one in the ring. Besides, if there’s less of me to move around, I might actually perform a little better.

The second is for basic health and well being - I’m waaaaay too heavy for my height and I really do need to shave off the extra poundage for a host of reasons.

The third is for aesthetics - let’s face it, who wants to wobble when they walk? I saw a photograph of myself from 11 years ago when I was a wiry, whippet, ass-kicking athlete and it rocked. Besides, bikini season is coming and I’d like to wear mine without fear of Greenpeace throwing a bucket of water over me before trying to roll me back into the ocean.

Of course spending the last two weeks laid up with a chest infection, on antibiotics and completely unable to train hasn’t helped. Neither has my complete lack of self control in the face of delicious high sugar, high fat naughty food. Not exactly a winning combination for someone who is attempting a return to athletic competition.

So yesterday marked my reversion not only to the dietary straight and narrow but also to the gym. Despite rapid fire coughing that had me sounding like an AK-4/Seal hybrid, I managed a 30 minute boxing session before decamping to the cardio machines. I still can’t run for more than 10 minutes thanks to the calf injury so the bike and cross trainer played host to my gasping, sweating out-of-shape efforts. To say I’m hurting today would be the understatement of the century.

Most of all, my greatest pain is with food. I’ve been good these last two days - a black coffee porridge with almond flakes and light soy milk for breakfast; celery sticks with a tablespoon of peanut butter as my mid morning snack; green salad, poached trout and toast for lunch; celery sticks mid afternoon and grilled chicken breast with steamed veggies for dinner.

It’s not the shortage of food that’s killing me (I’m not actually hungry) - is the total lack of sweet stuff. I’m ADDICTED to sugar and the cravings are driving me nuts! I know they’ll abate in the next couple of weeks but in the meantime, I guarantee I’m going to be a cranky biatch. Lucky I’ve got pads and a bag to take it out on, eh?

Link
January 11, 2011
I can't believe I'm going to be fighting here!

I just found out that I’m going to be fighting in mid April at York Hall, the home of British Boxing. What a privilege to make a debut in such a prestigious venue.

Text
December 30, 2010

I get by with a little help from my friends

With the fight still some 3-4 months away, one may be forgiven for thinking that perhaps it might be a little early in the piece to be considering fight names. But as a former copywriter who knows all too well the importance of a name, I couldn’t help but recruit the assistance of some rather learned friends.

So a fortnight ago I contacted Mat Henderson – a dear friend and fellow pugilist in Sydney – for some advice. Mat’s sage words of wisdom came as follows:

 

Monikers before the first name have the same letter

i.e. Lethal Lenny Butterman

 

Some monikers rhyme with first name

i.e. Mark “Too Sharp” Johnson

 

Middle name monikers need not rhyme and can be convoluted

i.e. Donnie “The Master of Disaster” Long. 

Check out a video of a 19 year old Mike Tyson destroying Donnie “The Master of Disaster” Long here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdBm75jhkpQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vy7NjBMEA0

 

High on this fresh and all-important knowledge of how to name a fighter (and apparently kill an opponent in the ring – thanks Iron Mike), I proceeded to source inspiration for the perfect name. However, several hours of internet surfing, 3 boxing films and a roller derby film later (what? They have great names!) I was still stumped. This was turning out to be much harder than I’d originally anticipated. Who did I want to be when I stepped into the ring? And how would it correlate to my fight style? You know, the fight style I’m not sure I even have yet…?

Clearly, I needed the help of those that knew me best. So when Christmas day rolled around and I found myself in the fabulous company of two creative directors, a design director, a journalist, a marketing guru, a plastic surgeon, an architect-in-training and an aspiring actor, I couldn’t resist but workshop it with them. It turns out that aside from being fabulous friends, they also make an excellent think tank and within minutes my fight name was born.

You may now call me Liz “the Lady Killer” Wise. It’ll be my pleasure to beat you.