As it’s that time of year again where we’ve all started to think it might be nice not to look like a champion pie-eater at the Christmas Party, I have started to address the issue of my diet.
When I say address it, I mean to formulate a strategy, write a speculative list, consider the ideal options of avoidance that might possibly mean I don’t have to wear big Bridget Jones pants or rock up in a black tent with sparkles.
I’m not saying I’m fat, not at all...otherwise I wouldn’t be able to justify eating the bag of Nice ‘n’ Spicy Nik Naks I’m consuming right now would I?
But in theory, it would be ideal if I could shake off the additional pounds that largely come in flavours of salt ‘n’ vinegar, white chocolate chip cookies and curry.
I’m actually very proud of myself this year. I’ve tackled the monster that is exercise and can be spotted twice or sometimes three times a week jumping up and down and squatting like a sweaty madwoman in a city centre exercise centre.
You won’t recognise me from the picture above, my face is much redder.
But it doesn’t seem to matter how many burpees I manage , weights I lift or crunches I complete – I may be much more toned but I haven’t shifted a single pound.
As my fellow exercisers shrink before my very eyes, I am the only one who has gained weight. I am noticeably more toned but it seems those health gurus are right when they say you have to eat well also (damn), I really should tackle it.. soon. Trouble is, I’m hungry and an apple just doesn’t cut it.
I’m not really one for diets. My newsroom colleagues are still recovering from the one week this year when I had smoothies for breakfast, salad and green tea as part of a healthy detox.It wasnt food that was the problem, it was coffee.
Without it, my generally fairly amiable self became a short-tempered, exhausted, grumpy monster. The only solution was to apply a full fat latte, and quickly. They soon learned...
So next step Xmas healthiness. In theory. I’ll think while I have a doughnut.