Tag: dieting

I have been fat for as long as I can remember.  Or at least I believed I was.  There has been the odd occasion where I definitely wasn’t but for the most part I have been.

I have always loved food, and still do, and I am going to assume that had something to do with it.  I believe my nick name was officially ‘Fat Kid for a few years amongst a certain crowd when I was younger but if I recall correctly they were actually my closer friends and it didn’t last that long and whilst I would say it never bothered me it has stuck with me.

Thinking back before that I was broad shouldered and pretty handy at rugby growing up and through my teen years, and whilst not massive I always carried extra weight which helped on the pitch.  I do remember joining a club after school and hearing one of the players comment in Afrikaans that it was good to have “another nice fat front rower’.  Looking back at photos though, I don’t think I  was that big.  Certainly nowhere near where I am now.

I guess it is something I have always lived with, though I don’t quite recall my first diet.  I t must have been quite some time ago because I found this when I was going through stuff in the cellar this week.

The oldies amongst you will recognise a 3.5 Inch drive and it seems that probably 18 years ago I was attempting to do something about things.  Made me really question myself because 18 years is a bloody long time to get progressively fatter and fatter.   I mean what was the world like in 2000?

Well there was the shenanigans over the Y2K bug – so I must have had that to worry about on top of having hefty man boobs, and I was likely sobbing into my breakfast cake as the final ‘Peanuts’ was published following the death of Charles M Schulz.  Oh lordy, Bob The Builder was top of the charts here in the UK.  I was likely comfort eating for sure.

I tried to remember making it but cant so am looking forward to firing up an old PC I still have to see what is on it.  I do wonder what goal weight I set for myself.  I’ll let you know

Now here’s a curious thing.  The longer I remain focussed on what I put into my body (no – this is a diet post not one of the weird posts I am prone to do so stay with me) the less interested I become on food in general.

Food for me was a comfort, a reward, a treat but five or six weeks in and I find myself not only considerably less hungry than I have ever been but also less fixated on the deliciousness of it.  Perhaps foolishly I watch quite a lot of cooking shows, and mostly ones that focus on desserts, and in the past these would have inspired me to chocolate and cream filled monstrosities of pure delight but now I am mostly filled with something of a sense of indifference.  Perhaps at the time I think I might whip up a triple layered mousse cake or a dozen scones to be savoured in the bath or in the middle of the night but it soon passes.

That said, I have been making some ice cream, but that’s just because I am not getting through the milk and don’t have the heart to tell the milk man to deliver less. Oh and there were those cup cakes with the vanilla frosting.  But those aside, I do feel generally less compelled to feed my face.

When I set out on this journey I wanted to love better, lose weight, teach my kids to eat better and to sort out my relationship with food.  I don’t think I am there yet and would probably still rub Nutella all over myself when the cravings strike but things certainly do seem to be changing.