“Who Ate All the Pies?”
When I last wrote about the thorny subject of weight loss, I weighed 188 lbs (13 stone 6 lbs or 85.3 kg). That was in Spring 2022. Let it suffice to say the the optimistic health plan I subsequently embarked upon fell apart like a cheap suit, solely due to me not committing to it in any meaningful way. Since then my weight has slowly and steadily increased. I will avoid any long and tortuous explanations and quasi-justifications. I like my food and lots of it. The fact that my lifestyle has contributed to my ill health, is something that I have willingly tolerated. The pleasure outweighed the consequences. However, in early August a tipping point was finally reached. It wasn’t a theatrical epiphany or anything that can be framed dramatically. I simply woke up one morning and said to myself, “I am tired of constantly feeling like shit”.
Losing Weight
I weighed myself this morning before writing this post. As of 6:05 AM today I weigh 188 lbs (13 stone 6 lbs or 85.3 kg). To give this data some sort of context I am 5’11 tall and 54 years old. Prior to my more recent weight gain, I have had an athletic build for most of my life. During my twenties and thirties, while I was still a smoker, my weight stayed around 133 lbs. When I quit my 30 a day cigarette habit I gained about 14 lbs or so over the following months and then stayed at that weight for a further decade. Even with the onset of middle age my weight has not been excessive and my build has accommodated any gain quite well. It has only been over the last 5 years that it has increased to a level that I consider to be neither flattering or healthy. This was brought home to me a few days ago when I saw my reflection in a mirror while on holiday. The incident has given me pause for thought and galvanised me to take action.