The road to fat fighters

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Anybody embarking on a weight loss journey should photograph their body during the process and record their journey.

I really regret not doing this. I was too ashamed, embarrassed and in denial about how large I had let myself get since having children. The children were 14 and 9 so I had run out of excuses.

It was easier to not look in the mirror, buy bigger clothes and I was convinced that if I got too large I had a lovely husband who would tell me so. In reality my husband loves me whether I am 13 stone or 10 stone. Everybody else thought I was healthy and physically fit as I was able to run around the netball court for 40 minutes – twice a week.

As with everything people can’t make you do something – you need to do it for yourself.

D-day for me was seeing a photograph taken at the back of me at the buffet table during a work colleagues leaving lunch. As soon as I saw it, I saw a fat, frumpy council worker who shouldn’t be helping herself to buffet as she looked like she had ate too much over the years.

I felt so ashamed of how I looked.

I went home that night and looked at my husband who is so physically fit, has a muscley body which he works so hard to maintain – all the things that I love about a male and why I was attracted to him in the first place. If anything he has improved physically with age.

I then looked at myself and how I had really let myself go over the years following having children and felt about as low as I have ever felt for years.

I had turned into one of those frumpy looking mums who have let their appearances fade. There are plenty of them in the playgrounds – you know the type, they wear tight jeans and have an overspill of flab in their midriff. I had become that and it didn’t matter how many netball matches I could play, or how many sessions I could do at the gym – without losing that fat I was a frumpy, fat middle-age mother.

So, I joined weightwatchers.

I had calculated that I was going on holiday to Menorca in exactly 14 weeks from my joining date so if I could lose a pound a week then at least I would be a stone lighter for my holiday.

That was the goal I had to focus on.

Surprisingly I found the weight loss plan quite easy to stick to. I didn’t feel hungry and it was more of just watching what I ate and keeping a track of all the food I was consuming.

I could not believe it after my first week when I was weighed and I had lost 2 pounds. It was a great feeling to have achieved that, so that was the motivation I needed. My stone for my holiday was a definite achievable goal.

Some weeks I would stay the same, the weeks that I didn’t track every day I would gain – but I managed to lose a stone for my holiday.

I even wore a bikini for the first time on holiday.

So, if I could lose a stone slowly and just by watching what I was putting in my mouth, then surely I could lose another one?

It was much slower to lose the second stone but all the compliments I received from people who were noticing the weight loss gave me all the motivation I needed. I also dropped a dress size too, which felt like a milestone. I hadn’t been in size 12 clothes since I was 28 years old.

When I had lost 22 pounds in total my life would change forever. I signed up for 10k races and started running. Again, another thing I had tried a couple of times over the years but found it too physically challenging for me.

However, this time it felt easier and after running for a few weeks something clicked and I was able to just switch off and keep running with no thoughts. It felt a bit like meditating and the way I felt after each run was awesome. I felt happy, energetic and calm.

One thing about running is that even though a few times I feel like I can’t be bothered going out and running, especially when its really cold outside – I never feel downbeat and unhappy when I get home. I always have the runners high.

So, back to the present day. Unfortunately I never took those photos or wrote the logs of my weight loss journey. But, I can look in the mirror now, I feel at my peak in terms of my physical fitness and I am nearly at the weight I was when I first met my husband.

I think the husband finds me far more attractive at the weight I am now too.

But the greatest achievement ever was that I  bought my first pair of skinny jeans the other week and there was not an overhang of flab in sight.

Injury after injury after injury

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There are plenty of people in the world who abuse their bodies by smoking, taking drugs, being overweight and not exercising.

Apart from the odd blow-out at the weekend when I succumb to the devilish delights of vodka and dairy milk, I tend to look after myself. I stick to my weightwatchers eating air diet, I exercise regularly and have a mostly healthy mind.

Then why do I seem to be prone to injury at the moment. My knees flared up after my last 10k race which suspended my training for over a week. Then I had to do lots of short distances to not aggrevate them even further. I spent every evening stretching on the foam roller (which is a god send for my knee problems). So, I finally got them pain and swelling free last week and my back decided to start playing up (whilst sitting on a chair and eating my tea).

It is so unfair. I have been desperatly trying to keep it mobile, take lots of ibuprofen and do all the exercises (that I do anyway to keep my back supple) and then some more.

I have my next 10k race on Good Friday, and it’s not going to be good for me if I have to either:

a) walk it

b) crawl it

c) get pushed in a wheelchair

d) get carried round (mmmm actually depends on who is doing the carrying)

e) forfeit my place

I don’t like to be a moany old arse but aren’t injuries just the pits? I have felt so great since I started running. I feel physically and mentally a different person – so why is my shitty post 30 years body not catching up!