Monday, February 13, 2012

Here we go again--- FAT BUGGER---Part 1

I went to see my doctor today for my usual three monthly check-up. When you hit a certain age and carry weight like you are collecting for Oxfam (Oooh--- bad analogy!)   you have to have these appointments. At one stage I used to joke with the doctor about making retirement age. He thinks he can manage that as long as I continue my ‘stringent’ management programme. (He assures me that he doesn’t read blogs, so I am safe from his wrath, unless one of you buggers tells him.
I’m a big bloke----OK?! Those of you who knew me when I attended Teachers training College in Epsom way back in the late 60’s and early 70’s would know my nickname was ‘TWIGGY.’ Bloody hell, I was SKINNY. I only weighed about 65KGS and almost had abs. Go on--- beg me to put up a picture. I won’t unless I get at least ten comments. I didn’t get ‘fat’ until I hit the big five O.  After that magic age, gravity and kilos combined to change my profile.
I tried heaps of diets—you name it I either considered it or tried it.  Did they achieve their verbose claims? Yes they did, for a while that is. I achieved amazing results. I threw away my ‘big’ clothes (Hell--- they would be my skinny ones now!) and bathed in the glorious comments form friends and family. ‘OH--- you look great, Neil. How did you do it?’
For every attempt, I lasted at most about six months, before something took over to subvert my regime. I can’t quite put my finger on it. If I could, maybe I would be rich and have millions of followers. I can just see it----

Yeah right—dream on boyo. It did not work out that way.
It wasn’t too far into my 50’s that I received the news that Mr Type Two Diabetes was my new companion. ‘Ah,’ you say. ‘Now you’ll get your shit together.’ You reckon? I suppose I did for a while. I knew from experience that GYMs DON’T WORK FOR ME. Oh well there was always another diet or mantra. You know the ones, ranging from the “F” Plan to more scientifically based Low GI diets or ‘Lifestyles.’ But once again--- the missing link, the “X” factor. I hadn’t found it.
Of course I was never alone ion these desperate endeavours. There was always a friend, who wanted to walk alongside me and most of them ended up on the Yo Yo treadmill. Sometimes it was fun. I remember going to Weight Watchers’ weigh ins, jumping on the scales (Of course, only after a visit to the toilet) and then feeling really good when I lost weight. What did I (we) do then? We went to a cafĂ© for breakfast of course!
I can just hear some of the less than complimentary comments. ‘You lack willpower,’ or ‘you cheat.’ (No--- I just ate too much). The result was always the same. I fell of the wagon. Therein lays a clue to my demise—something akin to what an alcoholic feels. What am I really saying--- that food is an addiction? Well it bloody well is--- to a degree. Yes I hear that---‘there is no bad food--- just the way we eat it.’ Or---‘too much of a good thing.’ Maybe Granma knew best---- portion size---- Another clichĂ©? Yes and no.
Sometimes friends have said---‘You could write a book about weight loss. Nah---- but I will write some more blogs about what I am doing now---- that I have been refused lone of those State Funded operations---- I’M TOO OLD!’ THEY SAID, and I’m not about to spend $17,000 to $20,000. Besides--- I will make yet another attempt, but I have been well-informed that it is nigh on impossible to loose weight by diet and lifestyle alone, and NOT put it back on again, once you hit 40.
Good--- I hope many of you disagree and try to tell me I am wrong wrong wrong. Cool---if that stimulates some of you to get off your f----- oops--- you get the picture.
Catch ya later, after I’ve slept on my ‘self-given’ challenge.