Dieting. 1.

Let’s give it another go eh

So it turns out that after posting about dieting here and here I did very little about the matter.   There were a few apples and some lighter lunchtime options enjoyed at work when I set out but there were also loose handfuls of quality street chocolates and overflowing plates of pie and mash washed down with mince pies and stollen.

Sadly it turns out a salad on a Tuesday will not in any way make up for a McDonalds Big Tasty on a Wednesday.  And yes, I went large.

In some ways that is almost enough to convert me from my atheist ways.  Only a force of pure evil would make a mouth watering burger total 1300 calories and a light ham salad with a splash of vinaigrette a mere 250.  If such evil exists then surely there is a balance of goodness out there somewhere.

Anyway I am thinking that if I write about it a little more then perhaps that will make me feel somewhat more accountable.   Or maybe a lot more.  I know you will all be frightfully encouraging too.

So keep an eye out for how it goes, might be fun.

On still being fat

A piece on being made up of one quarter Kentucky fried chicken and three quarters middle aged dad.

I wrote here, some while ago, on the matter of being fat and being on a diet.  That didn’t last though because I have a real love of all things delicious and a self destructive streak that simply will not listen no matter how tight my trousers may be or how jiggly my man bosoms.

I did though do something I have been putting off for a while and go for a full medical check up recently.  The sort you pay a lot for and they issue you with a terrifying report afterwards which has charts in it that prove that you’re lucky to be alive and that you are made up of one quarter Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Probably my thighs.  They are quite succulent.

So, it was with some trepidation that I headed to Leeds and signed in, nervous about what was to follow but relieved in a way that I had done something positive.  I am getting on after all, I am 46 this year.

Now I don’t smoke, and drink only occasionally, but I don’t eat well at all and get far too little exercise.  By too little I mean pretty much none –  unless you count running back upstairs from the kitchen late at night because the blinds are up and the neighbours can probably see me eating handfuls of wafer thin ham straight from the fridge in my pants.

They ran a full battery of tests on all of my major bits and pieces, took blood and other bodily fluids to pore over and even tested my hearing.  I’m a bit deaf on the wife side apparently.

There was a not wholly unpleasant episode involving lubricant and the snap of a rubber glove which men of a particular age are subjected to and the caress of an educated hand to ensure that all was ship shape in the underpants department.

How did it work out?

Well turns out It could have been a lot worse though I hope very much it was the kick up my full bottom that I needed.  Almost everything came back better than I hoped though I apparently need to eat more nuts, oily fish and avocado.  Easy enough I guess.  The two areas for concern were my weight (which I did not need to pay someone £300 to tell me – I do have a mirror) and my blood pressure.  They’re obviously linked but it did result in me having to go on medication as it was worryingly high.

I felt rather chastened I will admit,

So what now?  Well a few weeks in on the meds and I feel noticeably better and I seem to almost have my eating under control.  Its surprising what you are capable of when you the ramifications are laid out for you by someone with a certificate on his wall that entitles him to caress your testicles.

I’ll let you know how I get on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I seem to be on a diet

I was tempted to toss the strawberries and a couple of meringues directly into my mouth and top it up with the can of squirty cream that’s in the fridge…

I wrote previously about being fat,  and since that post – despite great consideration – did precisely nothing about it.  Unless of course you were to count the two meals below, which I think may actually have had exactly the opposite effect of a nice salad and a walk in the park.  I am no nutritionist though, so cannot be absolutely certain on that point.

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The feast above was enjoyed (and shared) at Miller and Carter in Huddersfield, and whilst there is an abundance of Salad I imagine the benefits were likely undone by the lashings of dressing and the presence of an entire deep fried crab.  Again, I would welcome a steer on that point from someone in the know.

Now the next meal I enjoyed at the Bottomley Arms in Halifax, and the ultimate burger seems something they are rather proud of.

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After eating as much of it as I could, washed down with a cheeky gin and tonic or two, I realised that perhaps any item of food that has the word ‘Ultimate’ in the description is unlikely to prepare one for a lengthy session in the gym.

Equally, another indication as to its inappropriateness for exertion of any type other than the loosening of one’s belt and sweating on the way back to the car may have been the use of the phrase ‘…and even more onion rings and cheese…”

I’m pretty sure it had pulled pork on it.  I vaguely recall the use of the words ‘succulent’,  ‘juicy’ and ‘hand pulled’ at some point in the evening.

Anyway, I checked both Slimming World and Weight Watchers websites in the hope that perhaps I could pass them off under a few ‘healthy B’s’ or maybe they might come in under a daily ‘points total’ but alas not.  Both sites simply confirmed that not only am I big boned with a healthy appetite but I am also somewhat delusional.

So, that being said I awoke this morning and for some reason thought, “why don’t you get on the scale.”  You want to know the number don’t you.  Yeah well I think perhaps I’ll keep that for another day but what I will say is that I decided that I would have a go at not having bacon for breakfast and take it from there.  What I did have was this:

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It was ok I guess, for a breakfast that was not pork based.  What I will say is that I didn’t need a lie down after it so that’s something right?

Admittedly, I was tempted to toss the strawberries and a couple of meringues directly into my mouth and top it up with the can of squirty cream that’s in the fridge.  I was worried though that should I have a stroke and fall down dead at that very moment it would scar the kids for life when they found me lying there, clad only in my underpants,  Eton mess spilling from my mouth and looking like I’d succumbed to rabies.

So we shall see how it goes, and I will continue to share.  I may well have to change the featured image in this photo if I get a chance later because I feel like that woman with the fruit is just mocking me.