OK, so here goes.....

Perhaps I ought to have entitled this post "And so it begins" but to be honest dear reader, I am not quite sure if it has begun. My weight-loss campaign that is.


There is no doubt about the fact that I am FAT. Yes, fat. I could be kind and call myself 'overweight' or 'plump' or 'pleasantly rounded', but hell, this blubber hanging over the top of my jeans (with elasticated waist of course) leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that I am a hefty old bird.


Old?  Hmmm. Am I? No. I am no spring chicken, having hit fifty, but sadly, in my head I think I stopped growing (mentally) when I was about 28. I feel exactly the same about things, and yes, I have matured and I am wiser, but my outlook hasn't changed much. Hopefully if you're younger you'll still find my blog has some merit, because a fat woman is a fat woman after all. I might not trip the light fantastic in my flares on a Saturday night any more, and I am not out man-hunting at weekends..(I have a lovely partner but we don't live together as yet) nor am I climbing the career ladder any longer. I am a mother..but my kids are in their early twenties and don't need me so much now. So, all in all, I can concentrate on being a fat woman who knows she needs to lose weight. What a bore.


I am sighing here. That is NOT a happy prospect. I can't get excited by the challenge. It means thinking about everything I eat, preparing foods, planning menus and moving my lardy arse around a bit more. A lot more.


This is a new blog. I have no readers as yet. I might be writing for myself because let's face it, I don't for one minute think I am going to inspire anyone to work on becoming healthier when I see the whole business as a chore. Yes...I have to 'love myself more'...blah, blah and anyway, being this heavy...(I'll weigh myself in a minute and I dread getting on those scales) is unhealthy. This is a vanity thing, but more importantly, I want to remain mobile and active. I am officially 'morbidly obese, so I'd be a complete fool to ignore that fact any longer. Humour me and allow me another huge sigh.


I know that the decision to lose weight can't be half-hearted..and it has been for the last year or so. I'll have  a few days every now and then when I'll make healthy food choices, cut way down on the fat, sugar and carbs, drink water, use my exercise bike for a few minutes *cough*  I play with the same ten pounds. Off they go, back they come. Off they go..back they come. You know the pattern. Then I give up for a bit and gain a few more pounds. I have tried. I eat better than I used to, and not so many junk foods tempt me. I have cut out all alcohol during the week. I have eschewed the glass of Sauvignon Blanc with my mid-week dinners...and that is quite a saving of calories. It's hard. I like to relax in front of the TV at the end of the day with a glass or two of vino, but that's a habit I have kicked. What is life without dry white wine I ask myself?? Hear me wail!


OK, so two days ago I bought two three-pack boxes of Magnums (Lovely lollies..vanilla ice cream encased in white Belgian chocolate.) They are  on the shopping list of a woman intent on losing weight, aren't they? This diet malarkey will start when I have seen them off...consumed them. Look - I have self-control. There are still two left. I have only eaten four of them in two days. They are winking at me every time I open the freezer door. I shall scoff any goodies in the fridge before I embark on this campaign, and there aren't too many dreadful things in there. Honestly.


Yeah, yeah, all you dedicated types would say it starts NOW and you'd throw those evil items away. Nothing in my fridge is completely baaaaaad. Some things are just a teensy bit not too good to consume if you intend to lose weight.


However..this is the deal. This pact I make to myself, and to you. (Echo...echo...echo....Who am I kidding? All you earnest types have given up on me already, haven't you? There is no one out there. I am alone and mad and writing to myself.) 


The deal is...I work my way up to this gargantuan life change. I have a couple of days to a) finish off the food I have, in moderation, and b) dwell on what it means to be a woman on a diet. Then I shall go to the supermarket next week a new woman...a woman with a purpose. I shall avoid all those areas with winking food. You know what it's like. Some things in the supermarket just want to befriend you, and I find jam doughnuts and danish pastries tend to be extremely pally.


I hear you screaming "No, no, no!! If you really want this, you start right now! Stupid woman! You wait no longer. You begin the journey this evening! Go and create something with lettuce for your dinner!"


It's all in the head, isn't it? You really, really have to convince yourself that the lardy thighs, bulging stomach,the rolls of fat, the swollen upper arms, wobbly chins, arse with it's own post-code, knees encased in fat and plump fingers have to go. What is there to think about really? Who needs that blubber? Still, until I get that light-bulb moment - the one that apparently makes you change your whole outlook on your big fat life - it doesn't happen. The fat hangs on. I allow it to.


Anyway. I am going to write about it. It's a struggle. I don't feel inspired, but my poor old heart deserves a break. It shouldn't have to pump so hard.


I started this, because one particularly inspiring blogger in the States, pointed me in the direction of a lady whose life ended suddenly last week. She was a cheery writer, and determined to lose weight, and now she has gone, and left her children and family behind. I didn't know her, but I read some of her blog, and felt so sad. A life over. RIP Bethany.


Heck. As I type I have Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E playing on my computer. Such a beautiful piece of music...


Excuse me while I blow my nose....Yeah. Even grumpy women cry.


I've already had more life than she was given, yet I have been blase about it..and the way I look, the way I eat, the way I move, the whole deal. Life is precious, isn't it? The clock ticks, and it ends one day. The chances are that I won't get my natural span if I don't lose weight.


So, perhaps this ought to be more than a half-hearted attempt to be the best grumpy, middle aged woman I can be? Who knows, if I succeed (and right now, that IF is looming large) I might become a tad more cheerful?


OK. That's post number one done. More of the same tomorrow. If you stayed to the bitter end I congratulate you on your fortitude. Well done :-)


And thank you.


Bah humbug <~~~~for added grumpy emphasis.