We live in a world of inputs and outputs. We also live in a world of outcomes. And these outcomes represent the interrelation between our actions and others’ perceptions. None of us is an island. 

A colleague and I had slipped into the downward spiral of a worsening working relationship. We each felt the actions of the other acutely, and sometimes hyper-acutely. We had both become emotional and career islands. The spiral was set to full downwards spin. 

A third party has carefully brokered a conversation. The Big Conversation. We considered how it might happen, and decided a mediated option might work. 

Then, by chance, the Big Conversation happened anyway. It was cathartic and free. The more we went along, the more we learned and the more we understood. Each of our actions and perceptions of the other’s had badly clouded judgement and reality. We now know where each of us is coming from, and where we’re each going. The conversation was great. 

But there’s an interesting by product of this. We’ve pretty quickly gone from being miles apart, staring far away from each other, to getting each other’s back right away. Our goals are different, but complementary.

What we learned most of all was that it was circumstances and not an inherent dislike of the other that had brought us to a bad place. And the circumstances involve other people. Which now means that each of us now has another perspective of those third parties, and our respective relationships with them. 

Don’t you just love workplace politics?

I’ve got a week off work next week. By god I need it. Prior to that, I have only had one day off in six months, and lost too many weekends and late nights to the intervening onslaught. 

The rest I really need is not really from work or the workplace (although it’s quite true that if I was independently wealthy, I certainly wouldn’t choose what I do to occupy my days). Sadly, I’ve yet to find a sugar daddy.

It’s the constant self examination in the spirit of contributing to the greater good. There are difficult conversations with colleagues to be had and, now, it seems, a shift in approach. I’m getting to the point that, if the vague hints at “a great career here” are true, I don’t know whether I need the aggravation.

But I know I want the upside. Wherever that may be (I can’t see where the future lies here, whatever the current promises are). So, to go through the downside is probably what I need to do to get a clearer picture of me and how components of my personality affect others. 

But right now, I need a break. Time to switch my head off.

Returning, as I am rather often these days, to the scene of the crime, a quick thought on my previous post.

• First week was just following rule 1 (low GL with some tweaks). Some weight lost.
• This week has added in rule 2. I’ve already survived two fasts, and plan another for tomorrow.
• Rule 3 has yet to be broached. Maybe for next week.

Observations include the inevitable quick weight loss, as water stops binding onto stuff (with the instant feelgood “hey this is easy!”), and some extra. Whether it’s fat or muscle, it’s hard to say. I’m certainly not active enough to avoid muscle loss.

Non-weight observations: I feel better without starchy stuff, especially bread. Much less bloated. Need more fibre, however, so will seek out something suitable. Hunger during a fast is perfectly manageable, and water seems to take the edge of easily. that said, I am now pissing like the proverbial racehorse. The main side-effect is a revived interest in cooking and eating interesting food – that makes compliance with rules slightly less bitter than usual.

Drop so far? 6lbs/2.7kg.

I’ve had to face facts. But first I’ve had to face fat. The fat man in the mirror. 

I remember once sniffing at someone who stated that he’d let himself go until he was 35 and then repair the damage. “What a fool”, I thought. Now I’m that fool.

There are a host of reasons and justifications and genuine limitations that I’ve turned over a thousand times in my head and that means there won’t be a return to c200 miles a week on the bike. I’m glad I had those days, and I miss them, but I’ll come to accept that loss and move on. 

But the most direct way to address this is still within my control: what I consume. Previous attempts have shown good results from: 

1. The infamous idave diet – summary here, though copyright is with 
Dave Smith and RST: http://www.jamesrichmond.com/misc/iDaveDiet-RST.pdf 

2. Intermittent fasting – more info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intermittent_fasting

3. Exercise.

The plan:

1. idave diet six days a week. Cake blowout on the seventh.

2. Of the six days a week, two to be 600cal fasting days. 

3. For other reasons this is the biggest long term question mark, so I’d rather do more than I’m doing (nothing), but less than I did. I think I’ll do some walking. And maybe a little light gym work with the odd ride at the weekends. 

Target? 2.5st/35lbs/16kg. 

Timescale? Yesterday, obviously. Realistically, around October 2013. But that’s less important than the end result: thinner, lighter, healthier. I’d like to get to a place where I can relax the dietary restrictions a little, but still use them to maintain weight.

Why write what I already know? I need to go back to the genesis of a commitment and have it stare back at me, as the fat man did looking back out of the mirror.

I used to think a lot. Then the world of work, and the prosaic realities of routine, sort of put paid to it. No longer were my thoughts ahead of the curve – neither were they behind it – they’d got off the bus and gone somewhere else.

Much has changed recently, not least in the last 12 months where the thoughts have started a gentle flow. More recently it’s been rather more torrential. 

And with the torrent has come some big challenges to my usual way of doing things: like trying to be more open and sharing what’s going through my head. Only, it hasn’t been met with quite the enthusiasm I hoped.

People are telling me I’m “over thinking”. I’m not sure whether that’s (a) possible and (b) really a reflection on what’s going on. I’m more inclined to see it as impatience for change. Change feels like it’s there, but tantalisingly out of reach and I just want to plough on and grab the future.

Or maybe I’m just over thinking it all again.