For those of you that have visited this page due to the title; may I warn you of the disappointment you may now be feeling…… No fellatio, just fat talk!
As much as I am not a singleton looking for love, one thing Bridget Jones did carve on my memories was her daily tracking of personal misdemeanours or things she wanted to change and could only
doing so by monitoring their progress or decline. Weight, number of cigarettes smoked, alcohol units and calories consumed.
I remember doing something similar
but was never very good at regular entries therefore always became miserably depressed, as it seemed the only occasions I did remember to write things down was after a massive blowout and therefore the scores on the board Miss Ford were pretty scary and majorly
disheartening to the cause and therefore I gave up!
However with Summer literally knocking on the door and calling through the letterbox, I once again sit
and contemplate where I am at and where I need to be in order to feel good about myself. My mission is quite simply to get the most out of future events recorded firmly in the diary and that require my attention now if I am to look back on each of them
with fond memories and a catalogue of complimentary photos. (rather than wish to forget them and try and delete the evidence!)
So, we begin with weight; now
I am not your scales type of weight observer, nor do I do the calorie censoring that seems to all consume people. I have watched this latter trait associated with diets taking over their everyday existence! They are the ones scruntinising packets
and boxes in the supermarket, who download apps to keep them on track and generally who becoming excruciatingly boring individuals who can reel off without looking the number of calories in everything that enters a mouth!
In fact, I purposely go out of my way to avoid diets or any advice about losing weight as at the end of the day (and at the beginning and the middle of the day) its basically down to a common-sense
approach with lashings of discipline and willpower (the last mentioned I have always been in low supply!).
I believe you don’t even need to look in the mirror to identify
your pockets of fat or the fact that your waistline is thickening, your thighs are looking way too chunky and your chin has doubled; you can feel it, see it and your wardrobe begins to talk to you. Correction your wardrobe doesn’t talk to you,
the contents of your wardrobe start to scream like Mandrakes and this you cannot and should not ignore!
An example would be that my jeans are very vocal at
the moment accusingly refusing to button up, stay buttoned up or constantly teaching me a lesson by undoing the zip when I sit down. They are biting into my waist and leaving unattractive indented tracks on my flesh as
a warning that they are not best pleased with me. All are tell-tale signs that they are serious pissed off with me and I need to do something about it pronto!, otherwise they are threatening to leave and move in with the
nearest charity shop!
Drastic action is required! I therefore try on a sample of my current clothing to see if all clothes were feeling the same. Regrettably the results were an overwhelming majority vote against me and the overall message I took from this exercise was I have piled on the pounds and now need to rediscover discipline and work on that willpower.
My shirts gape at a certain point on my chest giving the impression I have a huge bosom whilst creating a peeky hole for any pervert who fancies a
free ogle of my cleavage which isn’t good (for either party!) Some of my tops have decided to stop flowing and start hugging knowing full well I am not and never will be a tactical person. Therefore for my lumps
and bumps although not exposed may as well be, I may as well have fluorescent large signs pointing to my love handles!
A selection of skirts have now been
taken from their hanging space and replaced with empty hangers. They have been folded and put in the ‘after’ pile as they are to be used to measure my success – they are my goal! Dont worry old friends, we will meet again very
The only thing that fits nicely is my pants/knickers (I am told by the yute of today that pants is an old peoples word, so lets go for knickers!) which
as they all seem to have generous amount of elastic involved somewhere hasn’t left me feeling very positive about my current body shape and image.
However, I am hardly
going to start to fret unnecessarily as anything I now do is for me, just for me, for me to prove that I can still do it if I want to and to get into that damn bikini!
severe steps required with limited time (3 months), I decided to brave the scales just for confirmation to where I am at whilst keeping an eye on future improvements.
excellent news! Scales say I am 54 kgs, which is equivalent to 8 stone something.
Most discouraging information; scales not working!
Although who was I kidding the
last time I was 8 stone was probably when I was a child!
Ok so already out of a little desperation, I have broken my no jumping on weighing scales rule and where did it get
However, I can assure you the calorie thing will never happen and for good reason; I don’t understand it and I haven’t got time!
Surely it must be common sense that if you put an apple in your mouth its good for you, if you replace it with a cream bun then thats the risk you must take!
So the challenge is on…. Dear Willpower, its been a while......