I love food. It’s the first thing on my mind when I first wake up, and even when I’m preparing breakfast I’m already thinking about what I’m going to have for lunch and dinner. Like most people, I find eating just so joyful, and this joy is tripled when food is shared with friends and family.
However, my love of food is starting to catch up with me. Actually, if I’m honest with myself, it caught up with me a long time ago but I was in denial. All those indulgent years of cheese platters, chicken thigh instead of breast (why yes, I’d love the skin!), pork belly roasts with crispy crackling, crusty bread slathered with butter, and the occasional excursion to KFC, shows on my waistline. Sure, that stuff is all fine in moderation but I can regularly put away the same volume of food as a 6′ man (did I mention that I am a 5’1 woman?) and still be looking at the dessert menu.
The first time I had to buy clothing in a size 10 instead of size 8, I put it down to “filling out” from a girl to a woman. Even when I had to start buying size 12 clothing instead of size 10, I thought, “hmm maybe I should be hitting the gym”, but didn’t really do too much about it. Looking at myself naked in the mirror, I can certainly see that I have the dreaded love handles, but after sucking my gut in a bit I convince myself that I still look a glowing picture of health.
The crunch finally came when, after attending weddings of friends recently, I saw photos of myself for how I really was when I wasn’t posing – gut hanging out, chunky arms, chubby face, and the beginnings of a double chin. I could no longer deny that it was time to back away from that second helping, stop eating whenever I was bored, and treat my body like the temple it is.
The basics of weight loss is fairly straightforward – eat freshly prepared meals rather than processed food, eat smaller portions, and move more. That’s all good in theory but nigh on impossible when a kiosk near my office sells the most delicious, crunchy baguettes stuffed with pork belly (including crackling!), slices of brie cheese, mustard mayonnaise, and a few token green leaves. Delicious food is just all around and forever tempting me.
[There’s the matter of developing, and sticking to, an exercise plan. For me, this is the easy bit. My willpower is strong when it comes to exercise, but weak when it comes to food.]
Recognising that I couldn’t do it on my own and desperately needing assistance, I have turned to a meal delivery service. I’ve subscribed to a plan where all my meals and snacks are delivered to my front door. I know that I’ll miss cooking, since it is my way of relaxing, and I’ll miss eating my own home-cooked meals. I know that I’ll have to be ultra-disciplined when I eat out. I know that I will have to throw out all the snacks in my drawer at work and stick to the meal plan. I know that I’ll be in a bit of suffering and anguish for a couple of months until my mind and body adjusts to “proper” portion sizes.
However I’m going to reclaim my body and my health, treat them with dignity, and look after them well. After all, I’m hoping that my will serve me well for at least another 50 years!
* Image courtesy of Lady Jane