FBD19

The Fat Bloke Diaries

Episode Nineteen – It’s Sinful

Once I set a target for myself I usually do my utmost to achieve it. All the ice and snow is still hanging around in my area, making it difficult for me to restart my running, so I set a new mini-goal: to cycle 50km over last weekend.

My knees, static bike and dining room floorboards are all creaking alarmingly now, but I managed it. My legs ache, my feet ache and my haemorrhoids feel like they’ve just been on a hot ‘n’ heavy third date with an over-amorous cheese grater, but I did the 50. Then, because I’m stupid, I did another 10km.

It was a tiring weekend, but I’m certainly burning calories. Unfortunately I’m still consuming far too many.

My resolve is slipping. I thought that I had this over-eating business under control, that the habitual munchies had been defeated. But it appears that I’m not as strong-willed as I thought.

The odd beer (and in my time I’ve drunk some very odd beers) has made it back into my day. Well, not my day, not while I’m at work, obviously – my boss might read this. A few slices of bread and a chunk of cheese are stealthily sneaking into my tummy late at night too. Even as I type this I’m munching on a large slice of pork pie, fresh from the farm. I’m not saying it’s fresh but it’s only just stopped oinking. And it’s delicious.

While I know that it’s not the healthiest food around, I don’t see anything wrong in having a little piece of pie occasionally or a beer if I want one. Or even a great big, lardy, cholesterol filled cream cake. Occasionally, obviously.

There isn’t anything intrinsically wrong with these calorific delights. It’s time to debunk the idea of ‘naughty’ or ‘nice’ foods. No food is evil or full of ‘sins’ any more than a chainsaw is, but both can have nasty – even fatal – consequences if abused. All food is simply sustenance, fuel: but some fuel is of a higher octane than others. If I eat something that I know is extremely calorific, and am just consuming it out of habit, then I’m not being ‘naughty’, I’m being stupid. I’m just postponing or even reversing my own weight-loss. If I’m aware of these facts and still choose to eat that item, then I should at least enjoy it. I won’t lose weight, but as long as I’m prepared to put the additional sweaty hours in to burn off the extra fuel consumed, then the net balance will still be weight loss. Is the tasty morsel worth the workout? It’s decision time. ‘If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime’, that’s what they say… or perhaps that should be ‘If you can’t do the crunches, don’t munch two lunches’.

My problem recently has been that the odd treat is becoming normal again. It’s not surprising really, as I’m trying to overturn forty years of ignoring the calorific value of foods and going solely for the taste. And the tastes I’ve always been particularly partial to are pastry, beer and chocolate.

I don’t have a calorie counter in my head, thankfully, or even in my house. If I did it would take all the joy out of eating. It would turn it from a vocation into a dull science. Thankfully I don’t need to count calories. Even the least health-aware of us cannot claim ignorance in these matters. We all know from an early age that a diet of pizzas and cakes, though undoubtedly scrumptious, will accumulate more fat than eating lettuce and cucumber. This simple fact is all we need to know that any weight loss or gain eventually comes down to habit and personal choice.

My choice. And my responsibility. Simple.

So how come I’m not haemorrhaging pounds of fat now that I’m (mostly) choosing to forego the super-sized menu option? I’m nowhere near to becoming a shadow of my former self. I’m more like a fat bloke that’s squeezed through a thin gap and the lard hasn’t blobbed back into shape yet. The weight is slipping away slowly though, I am a stone and a half lighter than when I started this new life regime. I still have plenty more to lose yet, but I might keep that fact to myself.

There’s still too much of the fat bloke within me to tell people that I’m on a diet, exercising, losing weight. That’s tantamount to inviting people to point and laugh at the lardmeister. Only chubsters need to ‘lose a few pounds’. Perhaps the trick is to not mention the ‘D’ word (which just means that you die before tea) and plump for the latest in-phrase – “trying to eat more healthily”. That’s much more in line with twenty-first century thinking.

Now if I can get something about “being green” and “doing my bit for the environment” in there it would be much more socially acceptable. There’s nothing like a bit of eco-guilt these days to make people back off.

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