Weight a minute, I look like Long John Silver
Now that the eight-week diet is over I find I'm literally lost for words. I love talking and writing about weight issues. I could talk for Ireland about fat. I now know I could write a book about all the diets I've tried, all the insults I've received, all the disasters I've had with clothes that didn't fit and all the major blow-outs I regularly have.
I saw an article the other day entitled 'Are you too fat for your horse?' Now I don't have a horse, never have and never will but I found myself engrossed. It would appear that you should only be 10pc of your horse's weight. That's me out then. I'll never ride a horse. But it's scary the way I'm obsessed with articles involving weight.
I thought I was doing okay and was continuing to be relatively good. Relative to shovelling food in at a fast pace I mean. But I hadn't allowed for the heat and possible swelling. I was on a boat abroad recently and was wearing skinny jeans. In order to allow some sun at my strong, white calves, I rolled them up to my knees and then got off the boat and went walking in the heat. Dear Jesus when I tried to roll them back down they were wedged into my calves just below the knee. Nothing would get them down. In order not to draw attention to myself I tried surreptitiously to gradually get them down. Not a chance. The blood flow was now stopping and they were gouging further into my leg. I thought about asking if anyone had a scissors and was contemplating cutting them but I didn't really know the other people so didn't want to draw attention to myself. The sweat was now rolling off me in rivulets and I was continuing to pretend that I was casually trying to rearrange them. I finally after much pain managed to get one down but the other one was well and truly wedged. Now we were back on the boat and I resembled Long John Silver. One up and one down. Not a good look. Maybe I should become more obsessed with dieting and abandon the reading.
Sunday Indo Living