Monthly Archives: January 2010

Another bloody chickpea and all that…

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Last night I came perilously close to unwrapping a left over Christmas present (liqueur filled chocolates) meant for somebody else but which still sat under the Christmas tree. Five days into the New Year, the tree still stands with twinkling lights, encouraging my optimism that the silly season is not yet over and I can therefore continue shovelling sugary delights into my gob at top speed.

Somebody aware of my struggle with weight asked me before Christmas how I was going to cope with the holidays. We all know that for some reason I cannot explain, we centre our entire existence at Christmas around food, alcohol and indulgence. The real question should then have been, “how will you deprive yourself when you are constantly being offered and surrounded by high calorie treats?”

“It’s just food!” I replied, “I’ll be fine”. On reflection I’ve realised what a silly response this was. If it is all “just food”, why in the hell am I so overweight, jiggling at the slightest hint of a sea breeze? Having spent the last week at the beach, being constantly reminded of the jiggle factor, I’ve coped by generally depriving myself. (Let us not talk of the day I drove by a friend’s camp site, throwing a fast food wrapper out of the window, screaming “Hide it!” as I left them in a cloud of dust). You see, nobody likes a wowser and there are only so many little containers of nuts, fruit and smoked salmon one woman can pull out of her handbag quietly. The end result has been a hell of a lot of shovelling in the past few days, particularly of the soft white roll variety.

I have spent months supplying my own meals when visiting friends, sometimes forcing myself not to slam my pathetic plastic container onto my plate. That container and I have developed quite a relationship over the last few months and it knows (yes I’m assigning it human like faculties such is my calorie deprived delirium) how I feel about it. When I pull it out, I can hear it scream to those around me – I’m unhappy I’m here, I’m unhappy I’m overweight, I’m unhappy that I’m eating another bloody chickpea but most of all, I’m unhappy you don’t have to.

I try to reframe my current eating habits into being a choice. I choose to eat this way, I choose to be healthier. And really, I cannot blame anybody else for getting this fat in the first place…or can I (more on that another time)? No, I can’t really. So why the rage? Skinny and slim are words that leave my mouth with significant amounts of spittle attached, such is my anger towards them. But really, all that anger is about my own condition and a deep disappointment that I am a young overweight woman. Blah blah, human condition, blah blah, we know.

What was it about those chocolates under the Christmas tree that seemed so appealing when I was completely satisfied (physiologically only, lets face it) with my chickpea/brown rice dinner?  Is the label “bad” too tantalising to resist? Hot chips (bad!), chocolate (bad!), cheese (bad!). Why is it bad? Can’t we all just get along? Hot chips meet my friend taste buds, enjoy yourselves responsibly and part ways before you make each other sick.

A perfect summer romance…

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It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s….a Buble` song…

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I wish I had some words of inspiration for this crisp new white paper (or web page) which is the beginnings of my blog, a personal affirmation at least. A new dawn, a new day, a new blog? Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.  But there is no doubt that the new year brings with it a sense of new purpose and possibilities.

I state my purpose for creating this blog straight up. I’m a fatty. It’s easy to say but harder to write. I am very overweight and desperately unhappy about it. I have tried to perceive my weight as being just part of who I am – a happy, bubbly person, confident in herself. But that’s all crap too really….

So, with no new resolutions to set me up for inevitable failure, instead I decide 2010 is the year for all things new. I’ve been scared for far too long- so I start here, my first “jump in”.  Here I hope to find a new sense of accountability for doing something that I have been unable to do for quite some time- lose weight. However, I need to stick to my no resolution rule. For this reason, I will not say I need to lose 25kg this year (although in fact I do) but I reframe the task to include my “new life”.

 I got to thinking – how would weight loss bring new things into my life? Well, for starters it would not include the following:

  • Cheese, cheese and more cheese
  • Always going to the back of the rack when buying clothes
  • Secretly hoping for the closest car park and cursing the toolman when he parks as far away as possible- (I hope to one day soon cry with joy at the opportunity to stretch my fat legs)
  • Granny knickers
  • Watching a purchased exercise video while sitting on the couch eating jelly
  • Hiding from the camera when previously it was my great life work to get my head in at least the bottom corner
  • Granny knickers…did I mention that one already? All I ask for is something with just the slightest hint of lace or femininity
  • Almost crying while I watch loved ones eat heavy sourdough bread
  • Mentally doing all sorts of nasty things to those eating the bread
  • Despising those who so obviously don’t have a weight problem exclaiming, “oh, I can’t have that (usually miniscule) piece of something (usually cheese)”
  • And for me the most humiliating – quickly claiming that I am purchasing for my svelte sister when shop assistants look at me in shock horror as I approach the change rooms with a too-tight something to try on.

 Yes, I could go into all sorts of physiological reasons why I need a lifestyle change. Diabetes, heart disease, cholesterol…but I’m only 25 and these things are rarely at the forefront of a young woman’s mind. I just want to feel better and not live such a toxic life, consumed with negative thoughts about myself and others.

 It should be said that last year I did successfully start the journey (I swear that’s the last time I’ll say “journey”…cringe), losing 10 and a half kilos over six months. However, it should also be noted that at times it was a half-assed effort accompanied with a good dollop of rage (think sour dough). Also think toolman hubby on the couch with a packet of cheesy corn chips.

 So I ask all those granny knicker wearing friends of mine, come with me. Join the year of all things new as we combat mid-night snacking, cheesy platters and it has to be said, hauling our collective derriere uphill.

 P.s. G-strings, boxers, briefs, and nudies also welcome.