Super Size? Me?28/06/2012

Ok that’s it. I’ve put this off for sooooo long. Its time to take some action.


Having faced yet another wardrobe crisis. (For those of you that  have never experienced this, it is when you go to your wardrobe  and utter those despairing words of:- “Oh no I haven’t a thing to wear.”


This is not because you don’t have any number of lovely outfits to  choose from it’s because you have allowed yourself to get so  porky you can’t bloody fit in to anything anymore.


How did this happen? How did I let myself get to the point where I  actually wear jogging bottoms all the time? The worst fashion item  ever (Unless you’re a size zero) has become the mainstay of my  wardrobe.

Why do they call them that anyway? 95% of the people I always see wearing them look like me. And the closest I ever get to jogging is legging it to the chip shop before it shuts.


The cause of this weight gain catastrophe is for me, I think – Relationship Contentment.

 

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You know – The state of being, where you have got your man/woman and you then settle into the cosy happiness of domestic bliss. End result complacency! We quite frankly stop giving a toss and don’t care what we look like anymore. How do you know when you are in this fine state of happiness? Well when you start to fight over who scrapes out the lasagne dish, you are well on your way to infatanie and beyond.


I never used to be like this! When I was single I always watched what I ate, exercised regularly and didn’t drink too much. So why the sudden change?


Well I guess when your single you go to painstaking lengths to keep yourself looking good in the vain hope it will increase your chances of pulling. Plus hanging out at the gym I am told is a great place to meet men. Word of advice though. If you have kids and can only go between the hours of 9.30am and 3.00pm, don’t hold your breath. Your chances of meeting Mr Adonis are slim. The average age of the men will be 65+. Trust me – I know.


Ahh but I can hear the mutterings already. “But it’s not what’s on the outside that matters it’s what’s on the inside, I want someone who will love me for who I am.”

Absolutely true. – But let’s face it; he/she has to want to shag you first. Once that’s out the way then they can then realise you are their one and only. In the meantime if the best you can muster out of your wardrobe is a pair of joggers and a hoody your chances of pulling are????????? – Ermmm nil.


So why do I need to lose this extra poundage? I have a wonderful man, a lovely life and should be perfectly happy. Do I embrace my new found flesh and love it as a part of me? Accept it like some kind of ET like alien? Or do I endeavour to rid myself of the evil hanger on that has caused 95% of my wardrobe to become useless?


Well we are told fat is bad, fat is not good for you. Plus self esteem has a goodly role to play in this. I have to confess as much as I embrace my right to be, if all I can hear in my head when I look in the mirror is “Who’s that trip trapping over my bridge”  (Mummy joke) I know I am in trouble!


So having realised the error of my ways and allowed this appalling state of overweighting, over drinking and over smoking to get completely out of hand. (Also known as having a bloody good time) All I have to do is decide how to tackle it. I have a sneaky feeling this is going to be a long process so the drinking, smoking and exercise will get tackled under a different blog. Hurrah I hear you cry.


It doesn’t help that my other half keeps saying, “But you’re lovely and cuddly and I love you the way you are.” Great, fab, fantastic I say, but do these lovely heart felt words of support aid me in my quest to rid myself of what is rapidly becoming another me – NO!

The eating thing I can probably handle, portion control, blah, blah blah. But there are so many ways to do it!


I could go down the route of buying pre-made calorie counted ready meals but I can’t see my other half buying into that. He’s used to fabulous home cooked food, and where’s the fun in making him something scrummy whilst I dig into a plastic wrapped, non distinguishable, mass prepared, additive filled, foil tray, full of mush. Apart from the fact they look and taste nothing like the picture on the packet, the portions are so small your hungry again in 10 minutes! So no Weight Watchers dinners for one for me then!


If I had more money than sense I could actually sign up to one of the companies that will deliver my diet meals to my door. From just £39.00 pounds a week I can pass the bother and worry of my lack of self control to someone else. Hell why else is the diet industry making in excess of 240 billion dollars per year worldwide. That’s more than the average national debt of several small African nations! I am however assuming that for this princely sum I also get a full time body guard to protect me from myself. I can see it now


“Maam, do not touch the fridge, Step away from the fridge, lay face down on the floor with your hands behind your head, I will shoot if I have to!”


Hmm – Me thinks – Perhaps not. So what other options do I have? Diet clubs? Well yes these do seem to work for a lot of people. I did try one many years ago and I have to say it was not a raging success. Why?

Well:-

A) You have to go to meetings each week. Well I am sorry but I am not going to waste good baby sitting money on a diet club.


B) Its all smacks a little too much of being told what to do and I always have had trouble with authority. Some svelte success story telling me “Now P you could have tried a little bit harder couldn’t you. A 4Ib weight gain is not the way to do it now is it” I’m sorry but this kind of patronising, self serving attitude is not going to engender a feeling of must try harder P, it’s going to engender a feeling of piss off you sanctimonious cow and here’s a punch in the mush for your trouble. So no, diet clubs are not for me.


By this stage you are possibly sensing a historical pattern. I am, I confess a lifetime yo-yo dieter. However unlike many others out there, I do not fall for the hyped up latest fad diets that are of course complete twaddle. Oh apart from Rosemary Connelly and The F Plan and the Cabbage one and the maple syrup one.

So.. my conclusion?

I will bravely go it alone. – Without the aid of diet meals, or slimming pills or fat clubs. Because after all, the secret to all dieting is really quite simple.

It does not demand that you spend hundred of pounds on weight loss products, or that you attend meetings each week where you hand over large sums of money to a stick insect whose love of food extends to a limp celery stick with a minute portion of low fat hummus on the end. You do not have to risk taking drugs that will kill you or if your lucky send you on a mind bending trip that makes you think you‘ve been to quadrant nine of the delta nebulous.


Oh no – I am extraordinarily privileged to reveal to you the all time secret of losing weight. 


If I were a less scrupulous person I would tell you to send me £9.99 before I let you into my secret. But I am not like that, I want to help you and share with you my many years of research and experience. So completely free of charge I can impart this, mind blowing, earth shattering change your life forever revelation! You too can be thin if you follow this simple rule.


STOP BEING A GREEDY COW, GET OFF THE SOFA, DO SOME EXERCISE AND FUCKING EAT LESS!!!!

 

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