20 July 2009

You are what you eat

I've been most flattered recently by a number of people telling me that I have lost 'shedloads' of weight.

I am aware that I've gone down a couple of belt sizes, but the implication that I have lost shedloads kind of insinuates that my girth was once adequate to fill aforementioned shed, so maybe I should be offended. I believed that my gut was not shed sized, and would in fact struggle to fill our mini plastic Argos greenhouse.

I have moaned previously about feeling fat, and undeservedly so since I was walking more, and eating and drinking less, (but still having to disable the touch pad from my laptop as my overhang could move the cursor just by me breathing).

And even now my stomach is definitely more washbowl than washboard - so what kind of a monster was I?

I however hadn't really appreciated the size that I had become. If I knew my photo was being taken, I would probably breath in a bit. And when looking in the mirror, I wouldn't stand side on and let it all hang out, I'd just check the front, which can be deceptive....

It was only this weekend looking at Mum and Dads photos from Brazil that I truly took on board what I had done to myself.

The photo below is un-doctored, and taken without my knowledge.

If you look carefully you can probably just make out the contents of a small, but perfectly serviceable shed strapped around my midriff.

Due to the usefulness of the Wii balance board in weighing travellers carrying, and not carrying suitcases, I know that just before we flew out, I weighed 16 and a half stone.

Since I have been walking to work, and consuming slightly less pies and ale, the Wii now reckons I weigh less than 15 stone. Still overweight, but at least no longer bordering on obese.

Without going to the gym (ever - I've never even stepped foot in one), or consciously dieting I've lost over a stone and a half. I still get two sausages with a large portion of chips from the van that parks outside Slippytowers every Saturday. I still eat bacon sandwiches for breakfast every Sunday. I can demolish a packet of gingernuts before the first crumbs have had time to hit the floor, and have become quite keen on melting marshmallows and/or chocolate to glue together cornflakes or rice crispies, and then eating them before they've even set properly.

Yet I'm losing weight....

To try to get it into perspective, I've tried to visualise what the 24lbs/11kg I've lost actually looks like, so in true (not a real) Dr. Gillian McKeith style, I have lost the equivalent of...

A 24 tinned crate of ale. I'd rather it was Broadside, but they only do that in 4 packs, so it would be 6 of those.

Or, 32 packets of mucky Richmond sausages.

The thought of not having 384 low quality sausages secreted about my person makes me feel very positive, and I think I still might like to lose a few more. I don't even have to do any thing different - just carry on, and let nature take it's course.

Talking of which, would anyone also like to see a picture of my poo?

Thought not.....


  1. I would like to see apic of your poo please.

  2. Congratulations, you're not as fat as Jim ..... but still way fatter than Huntage.

  3. Maybe so, but that Huntage fella is one sexy mutha, I would love to get my hands on his smooth, tender loins and give him a night he would never forget!

  4. Matt, I'm sure you have your hands over your own tender loins every night