FBD12

The Fat Bloke Diaries

Episode Twelve – That Was the Year That Was

I had fish paste sandwiches for lunch today. It’s not the healthiest food in the world, but I’ve had much worse things. Not worse as in “I’m a Celebrity, Let Me Chomp On A Kangaroo’s Love Spuds”, but worse in a fat content way. But my problem with fish paste sandwiches is that I always have a bag of cheese and onion crisps with them. Always. No exceptions, no discussion.

So I opened my lunch, smiled at the looks on my workmates’ faces as the familiar fishy aroma wafted around the office, and began playing The Association Game. I had the sandwiches; I now needed the packet of salty fat-soaked processed potato pieces to go with them. Within seconds I had left my chair and was heading for the snack machine. It didn’t matter that it has been a couple of months now since I’ve craved a bag of crisps. This was different. This had nothing to do with wanting some starchy crunchy snacks; I had fallen victim to That Thing You Always Do syndrome.

Without thinking I trotted up the stairs to the ninth floor where the machine is. I spied the required packet through the glass and was starting to salivate like Pavlov’s dog at a campanology convention when disaster struck. The stupid machine wouldn’t accept my cash. I even had the right change but it just kept spitting all my coins right back at me. Not a single one did it keep, which I thought was astoundingly decent of it given the amount of money it must have taken from me over the years.

Not to be outdone I jogged downstairs to the seventh floor. I’ve never been there before, but I’ve heard that they have a machine on that level too. So I burst through their doors… almost. Actually I almost burst my shoulder. The seventh has a security system and my staff pass didn’t allow me access. The door held firm, the crisps still tantalizingly close behind it.

It was then that I took the hint and went back to my workspace empty handed. I would be going without crisps. And you know what? I tasted my sandwich in a way I never had before. Naked and beautiful. The fish spread butty that is, not me.

Who’d have thought it – I’m now taking nutritional advice from machinery. But then again there have been many things happened this year that I would never have thought possible. Me buying my monstrous exercise bike was the first one, and cutting back on the beer and pizzas has been impressive. But not as impressive as losing a whole stone, which is what happened to me towards the back end of the year.

I’m astounded at the changes I’ve made. Apparently it takes around three weeks of regular repetition for the body and mind to create a new habit, both good and bad. 2008 will be remembered as the year that I developed a whole lot of new habits. Some I wouldn’t like to mention as my aged mother might read this, but others include eating more healthily and getting regular exercise. Neither of these have been part of my life for decades. I’m under no illusions that thirty odd years of dietary abuse can be reversed in just a few months, but any improvement is better than none. Thirty-five years of watching Sheffield United has taught me that.

I’ve never been one for setting New Years resolutions. I’ve never seen the point really. They always seem end in disappointment and depression, usually sometime in the middle of January. In my youth I made some half-hearted attempts at them, but as I have yet to walk on the moon, drive a steam train or appear as a guest star on The Partridge Family (which sorts of dates me a little) you can see how successful they were. I guess I’ll never do any of those things now, but there are some things I can declare with some degree of confidence that I will do.

I will keep up the good work health-wise that I’ve started this year.

I will lose more weight.

I will continue to eat less rubbish.

I will up my exercise levels.

These are my resolutions for 2009, and you are my witness.

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