A few weeks ago I had an unpleasant revelation while getting re-aquainted with my summer wardrobe. The type of revelation that makes you turn on your OH and demand to know why he didn’t warn you that all those crisps were not a good idea. His defence was that he hadn’t been prepared to risk his life by addressing me with, ‘Hey Porky…’
To be honest I wasn’t that fat, if I was smaller I could probably have been described as cuddly (just) but I’m tall and broad shouldered and tall women don’t do cuddly. We’re lucky in that we can continue to give the illusion of being slender even when we’ve packed on some weight, the downside is that when you cross the line you go straight from being slim to being big. I prefer being slim to resembling a battleship in full sail so I had to do something about it.
Dieting might not be fun but to be honest it’s a bit of a no brainer. The most difficult part is convincing yourself that the gain is going to be worth the pain. The summer wardrobe debacle made that part easy, very easy. Then it’s a question of banning stuff like crisps and nuts, cutting down on some of the more calorific foods and reducing portions. Simple… Oh and cut out booze.
I wouldn’t call myself an alcoholic or anything, of coursh not, but there’s no doubt that I drink rather more than the health Nazis deem is suitable for a woman. I think the limit is down to about half a glass a week. I don’t give a toss about going without puddings, or having less bread and spuds but I drink wine because I like the taste and, as far as I’m concerned, there aren’t any proper substitutes. The only carbonated drinks I like are, very occasionally, Bitter Lemon or Orangina – the full sugar versions which don’t do anything for your figure and anything with artificial sweeteners is disgusting. I quite like San Pellegrino with lime juice but frankly San Pellegrino is even better with a good dollop of white wine. Water may be the best when you’re thirsty but let’s face it, as an accompaniment to a meal it’s boring.
My kind of glass…
So I turned to psyching myself up with the health angle. You get bombarded with so many health messages about what damage alcohol does too you that it’s quite easy to start thinking that every minor ailment will improve if you go on the wagon. You’ll sleep better, your concentration will improve, skin will glow, you’ll stop catching minor infections, you won’t get dehydrated, you’ll really go up in the OH’s good books because you’ll be the driver without complaining.
And is it all true? The last is without doubt. The rest well; my skin is better but it is summer so that’s to be expected, I’ve never slept well and I don’t think not drinking makes any difference at all, of course I’m not dehydrated, I’m drinking all that blasted, boring water and my bad hip has been good but then it is summer. As far as my general health is concerned that’s another matter. I’m someone who, when everyone around me is flattened with flu like colds, gets a minor sniffle for 24 hours, I get a proper cold about every four years and even then it only lasts for a couple of days and I hadn’t had a cough since I gave up smoking 18 years ago. In the last alcohol-free weeks I’ve had a cold that lasted 10 days, followed a week later by a cough that made me sound as if I was a candidate for the TB sanitorium.
Much of the overhang that caused so much grief when I got the summer skirts out had gone so I returned to having the odd tipple or two. The cough disappeared entirely – so did another 2 kilos.
Cheers everyone!
I’ve put on a bit of weight too, but my OH LOVES it so I’m a bit unwilling to go through the pain of eating less and have him grieve for my squashy bits.
I’ve decided I’m just going to brazen it out, keep zapping my stomach muscles with Slendertone and bounce a bit more on my mini trampoline.
My summer clothes tend to be stretchy dresses and shorts (which I can still get into) so I’m cool. 🙂
I don’t mind a few squashy bits, after all, let’s be honest here, I’m hardly a teenager squeezing myself into tight short clothes but the problem starts when the squashy bits morph into being positively wobbly.
I was about to give up on the meaning of life entirely until I got to your last sentence. The preceding one I read at least three times just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood. My daily little glass of wine (ok sometimes every two days, and incredibly sometimes weekly) signifies the relaxing end of the day – sometimes it accompanies cooking on the days I really don’t want to do cook – but most of all it is my little piece of pleasure. Thank goodness I don’t have to give it up. I bought an exercise bike at the weekend – How many calories is a glass of wine?
Wine is my pleasure too, it signifies that you can relax and it complements food better than water as well.
just starting the summer holidays with the promise of giving up the glass (or bottle) for the first 2 weeks. However with a trip to Paris just round the corner, I’m not so sure! (and the weather forecast!) Cheers, you’ve convinced me it’s not worth it!!
It’s not much of a holiday if you’re depriving yourself, is it?
Love it! I too had an issue with the summer wardrobe and I know that portion wise I’m OK, we do have a healthy diet and get plenty of exercise, so the issue has to be the rosés of an evening, sometimes with naughty nibbles, then the cheese and red later on, but it isn’t easy to give up one of France’s most pleasurable experiences is it!
Rosé and nibbles, cheese and red wine. It is Interdit to give these up and live in France.
You can’t give up rosé, especially not on a day as hot as this one…
I’ve never been slim…square, more like…but not much of it was wobbling until recently.
We eat normally – a lot less than we used to when younger – take exercise and if anyone wants to tell me that walking the dogs every day on a terrain resembling the vertical isn’t enough they can take a running jump.
I am not giving up wine. I am giving up nibbles.
I thought I was really fit walking the dogs twice a day – then we moved from (completely flat) Les Landes to extremely hilly Entre Deux Mers and discovered I was puffing like a train on the way back to the house. Took six months to get used to it. I think it was the nibbles that really did the damage – both picking between meals and the ones that come with the first glass of the day. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I gave up alcohol for the whole of January once. It was so miserable I vowed never to do it again. But I did lose about 3 kilos in the process. I lost a whole kilo last week just because of the adrenalin rush of all the things we were involved in. Wouldn’t mind losing 2 more…
I have to be really desperate to give up entirely, I’ll turn a blind eye to my clothes being somewhat tight, it takes not being able to do them up to spur me into action. Fortunately that doesn’t happen often.