Tuesday, 13 July 2010

A Weighty Problem

I am fat.

There, I have typed it, there's no getting away from it now. In the last few years my weight and my clothes size have crept up, and up, and up. I look at myself in photographs and don't recognise the woman I've become. Now don't get me wrong, I've never been sylphlike, I have a bust, and a bum and a waist, all of which I quite like actually. But I also have a double chin, and muffin top and back fat and various other far less attractive characteristics, and they're sitting like a layer on top of the real me, blurring the edges and slowing me down.

I have lots of excuses for being fat, none of which are very good:

I say: I have sole care of two small children and can't go to the gym or go swimming once they're in bed. I don't say: I have a Wii fit though, and a step machine, and I'm not exactly knocking the door down of the local baths when my husband's home at the weekend.

I say: I am breastfeeding, which burns 500 calories a day, so pass the cake. I don't say: My child is now on solids and feeding much less than she used to, plus that tub of ice-cream probably contains 2000 calories. I am heavier now than I was during most of my pregnancy.

I say: I have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome which makes it difficult to lose weight I don't say: I spend too much time sitting on the sofa under the laptop.

Ten weeks ago I got on the Wii Fit and had a bit of a shock. I inputted my height. Five feet six and a half inches. That half makes all the difference you know. I stood still, feet hip width apart, as the computer took measure of me. It calculated and spat out a result. Obese. My BMI had hit 30. The little computer icon I'd chosen for myself widened perceptibly on the screen. There's something a bit sad about selecting an alter ego much slimmer than your real self. I marched with the band, 'cycled' and hula hooped on the special board, wondering how I'd let myself get to this stage.

Nine weeks ago, when my husband moved out, I decided to do something about it. Not having anyone to slob on the sofa with in the evening is a great incentive to get the stepper out, and however much I want a tub of ice-cream at eight o'clock there's no-one to leave the children with to go and buy one. So I don't. To save time, and money, I'm now eating my evening meal with them at 5 o'clock preventing the late-night carb loading I was previously so guilty of.

Today I stood on the scales. I have lost 13 pounds!

I am still fat of course.

So today I celebrate having reduced my BMI by two points, taking me into the Overweight category, but give myself a push to keep going.

I would like to lose another ten pounds by the time I go back to work, that's one and a little bit a week. Then I'll set my next goal. Doable, right?

If I write it here, put those numbers I'm ashamed of down on paper (well, screen) there's no getting away from it.

Was: 13st 9lb

Now: 12st 10lb

Next: 12st 0lb

So who's with me?!


Kat said...

Bravo, well done to you lady!

Francesca said...

Well done you! I'm with you. Being skint means I've had no crisps, no chocolate, no pop. I've lost 7lb!

Lindsey said...

Good for you! I'm not sure how much a stone is, living in the US and all, but you've obviously worked hard to have dropped one. **applause**

Muddling Along Mummy said...

Well done you!

I've had a big push whilst on my leave to get my weight down and I'm getting there - its not much fun but at least I'm able to fit back in my normal clothes again and to not feel lardy

You can do it!