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My job is making me fat

I have desk job. I work 9 – 5, Monday to Friday. When I was at university, I did salsa twice a week at my student union. When I was studying for my A-levels, I got half price entry at the gym, and finished at 3.15 every day.

Now, I am usually so fed up and tired at the end of the day, all I want to do after the nightly pooch walk is curl up on the sofa, watch the latest TV Series I have become addicted to, and maybe do some yoga if I’m feeling especially zen.

I sit next to an attractive woman in my office. That’s not particularly a distraction in itself – there are attractive people everywhere, and I’m married… and straight. The problem is I am one of those women, who, I am ashamed to say, judge myself based on the people around me. She’s 5ft 7 and gorgeous, I’m 5 ft 3 (and a half), and struggling with the stone of weight I have put on in the last year (there, I said it).

Here’s the double whammy. I am also one of these people who replaces therapy with food. I eat for every emotion, especially the negative ones, so when you get envy triggering self loathing, triggering cheesecake cravings (flavour of the week), you develop a bit of a cycle.

Said desk neighbour also stocks snacks in her desk, and she’s very sweet, she shares everything. Which would be fine, but she’s a bit of a feeder, and I have very little will power. Last time I refused her, she stared at me and waved a Bakewell Tart under my nose.

So, combine my neighbour with my lack of movement for 8 hours of the day, with the high levels of stress, my job is making me fat.

I am thinking about making changes to this. I don’t mean the fat part; I’ve been trying to make changes to that since I was 10 years old. I’m just beginning to wonder if maybe we should start seeing all the aspects of our lives that influence our weight in the same way we do food. If it’s bad for us – stop doing it. Of course, it’s not as simple as that, but isn’t it a lovely idea?

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2016 in balance and wellbeing, diet, food

 

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A very big KitKat

I took a break. A long break.

It’s not like I wasn’t doing things in the meantime. I got engaged, finished University, got an actual proper job that actually enables me to live, got married, bought a dog, bought a house (well, nearly), and BOOM! It’s 2016, I’ve put a stone on, and I’m looking at a blog I haven’t touched in three years and thinking “Hey, why the heck did I let all that life stuff get in the way of keeping this going?”

I thought about starting again completely, but that would be like switching from Weight Watchers to Slimming World when the road gets a bit bumpy – it’s fine for some people, but it’s not my style. I’ve changed since I started this blog, I even have a different name now, but it’s still a part of who I was, who I am, who I want to be. Plus, there’s some pretty funny stuff on here, and it’s nice to look back to what was going on back then.

So this is Chapter 2.

As I said… I’ve put a stone on. I was in three weddings in 2015 (my own being the last) and the thrill of having no dress to worry about fitting in at all ever again; or at least for the rest of the year, took over my already weak willpower.

I haven’t even actually made the most of it. I’d love to say I did a Julia Roberts and went up a dress size because I was exploring the tastes of Italy, but I didn’t. I mostly drank a lot of mid range wine, and ate a lot of chocolate. I did, however, discover a wonderful Chinese takeaway that deep fries shredded duck pancakes… which is as close to Eat Pray Love as I’m going to get this side of 40.

But no, I’m not jumping ship, I’m just setting a new course. I’m sure the other eating plans work fine for most people, but I’m not ready to give up on what got me to gold just yet, although my free membership has most definitely expired. I’m not quite ready to actually get on the scales yet, but it feels good to be flexing the old muscles a bit and seeing what I’ve still got.

I’ve got good feelings for Chapter 2…

 

 

 
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Posted by on January 4, 2016 in diet, food, Uncategorized

 

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Going Mouldy

taken from www.dogfoodadvisor.com

Been left too long…

Somewhere down the road, I stopped writing. I didn’t write down my food, I didn’t write down my ideas, and then low and behold, I was back at square one.

Jeans got tighter, well written blogs went unpublished, I lost myself trying to get other, ‘more important’ things done. I went stale. I’ve not used them enough, so my writing’s gone off and my weight’s gone up.

And so, with a heavy heart I went crawling back to my weekly meeting with my tail between my legs. I wore the lightest thing possible and shunned all jewellery in a desperate bid to retain some pride, which was stupid because I then looked ridiculous standing in a school hall in the middle of January, freezing to death because I was wearing nothing but leggings and a vest. Even so, I sucked it up, or in, and gingerly stepped on the scales. For the first time in a year and a half, I was out of my gold range.

The nice thing about going back to weight watchers is that everyone is so understanding and supportive. No one looks at you and goes, “Oh you stupid woman, have you no self control?” We are all in it together. You don’t have that when you write. There’s no one standing over your shoulder saying, “You should publish that, no don’t just save it and ‘come back to it later’ because you never will.”

So I’m adopting healthy body healthy paper, or something to that effect. I work on one, the other seems to improve as well, but I have to keep it up if I want to get better. I can’t go off the rails and worry about it later. I have to acknowledge when things have gone awry and work to improve them, to make sure I don’t go off again.

I’m baking a fresh batch, I’m starting anew, turning a new leaf so the weight’s off my shoulders (and now my thighs,thankfully). I’m back in my gold range and I am publishing again. It’s funny how writing and weight loss work together to form one giant stress bomb which leaves me running for the emergency chocolate.

 
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Posted by on March 14, 2013 in diet, entertainment, food

 

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Dear Santa Claus

Mr Claus,
It’s been a long time since I wrote you a list
And this one’s not too long, I am asking just this…
An inch off the arms, two off the waist,
And could you please do this without compromising taste.
I can’t give up bread or sacrifice cheese,
But I’d love to slip into that outfit with ease.
I’m dreaming of dresses, tight fitted and fine
But it’s not worth the loss of the chocolate praline.
I could do it the hard way and keep my wish quiet,
But Christmas is no time to be on a diet!
So could you please fix it? I won’t let it slip
That you’re the real reason I’ve got smoother hips.
I want to look tasteful in that little black dress,
But I cannot achieve it through living off cress.
I’d be ruining Christmas by avoiding the food,
I’d be dampening the spirit and souring the mood.
So you see, it’s quite selfless, it’s not all about weight,
I’m rescuing Christmas, and not just my gait.

 
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Posted by on November 19, 2012 in diet, food

 

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Fifty Shades of Food

My friend has a ‘first date’ this week. She is all excitement and nerves at the moment and it has been really nice to re-live the experience with her. We have been discussing hair and outfits, meeting places and do’s and don’t’s. It’s the start of the honeymoon period, when everything is shiny and new. Both sides make more of an effort to impress. You must be perfectly coiffed, you have to laugh in all the right places of the conversation and the jogging bottoms are either buried in the wardrobe or incinerated with the understanding that you should buy a shiny new pair when you reach the ‘nights in’ stage. You make a fresh start with everything and decide that you WILL make more of an effort this time. This is the exact same way all new diets start.

The honeymoon phase

The honeymoon period of my diet is over. We are making less of an effort to show our commitment  to one another. I am no longer gazing at my diet with loved-up puppy eyes and seeing nothing but perfection, the joggers are out and the make-up is gathering dust in the crevices of my handbag.  I have passed the stage where all I can hear is wedding bells and dreaming up my children’s names. Instead I have reached a more steady phase wherein I am living relatively comfortably with my diet but the spark has died. Things are not perfect, we don’t always get along. We have our little tiffs every now and again, and there have been several occasions when I have almost been drawn away by some delicious creation who was prepared to offer me more excitement than my regular old diet ever could, but I always come back begging for forgiveness and promising to try harder.

I know my diet gives me what I need, even when it cannot give me what I want. We are comfortable, even if we are no longer head over heels. But I am BORED.

Now however, there is a new spice in the mix. Something to shake things up. Something that has shown that it is OK to misbehave (and punishment is sometimes not completely bad…) Fifty Shades has re-invented diets.

The world’s best diet

Think about it for a second before you dismiss me as insane. If Anastasia Steele was dating a diet, it worked really well. She does everything she can to make her man happy and it turns out that she actually enjoys her new lifestyle. Eventually, just as she starts wondering if this really is the diet for her, the diet starts to give her things in return for being so well behaved (wink wink for the readers). It becomes a relationship well on course for years of mutual benefit (another wink wink). As it turns out, she’s actually dating a man (oh, that man…) And they compromise for each other to make the relationship work, and boy, does it work.

This is exactly how a good diet should and can be. It is possible ladies, (and gents, but I’m thinking you may not find this analogy really helpful…) A good diet will show you how to incorporate your cravings into a healthy lifestyle, so you aren’t deprived but you still watch what you eat. You do have to be prepared to make changes, and it may not always be an easy ride, (pun not intended… maybe) but you eventually come out with something that you can live with quite happily. You just have to find the balance.

And this is the conclusion you come to at around the third date. You begin to ease up on the hairspray. You start to share the less fantastic things about yourself. Your partner also starts to relax into the swing of things a little and you can begin to see where it is all going to go. If it works out then you are left with a relationship of compromise and cooperation. You give and you get. This is how a diet has to work. After all, isn’t a diet just a relationship with food? It won’t work if one side does all the work, you have to meet each other in the middle. You have to try things a different way and come to a mutual understanding that meets both of your needs.You need a Mr. Grey.

 
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Posted by on August 14, 2012 in books, diet, entertainment, food

 

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A Dream Come True

London 2012

And so the Olympics have arrived. Athletes from all over the world will be competing to fulfil their lifelong dreams of taking gold for their teams and their country. It takes an unbelievable amount of determination and strength to achieve something like that; to make dreams come true – the likes of which most of us will simply never have. Fortunately, I also saw my dreams realised this week, and I didn’t have to spend a single hour in the gym to do it.

I had a wonderful dream the other night. I was pregnant (that’s the less wonderful part – as much as I want to have kiddlywinks, I’m not quite ready for offspring just yet thank you very much), and I went to my doctor for a check up. She told me that the baby was not as big as it should be, but it was nothing to worry about. I am a stress head by nature, so my subconscious self was naturally scared to death. Now, whether in the dream world or the real one, the only immediate solution for the worries of the world is ice cream. It cures all ailments (except maybe tighter jeans, but that’s what Primark is for…) and it will always be there in a time of crisis. So anyway, I am sat there in my dream, stressing my pregnancy-induced swollen breasts off, when I realise there is a tub of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer. I eat the lot. I swear, when I woke up, I could taste it. The long and the short of it was that after eating the whole tub, I went back to the doctor who told me that the baby had grown and it was perfectly healthy. Hooray for ice cream!

Now that’s what I call baby food

The dream got me thinking about ice cream, more specifically about how you can only really get your favourite flavours mixed in the same serving from really expensive ice cream bars which are a drive away from the comfort of your own sofa and DVD player. My favourite type of ice cream is Ben and Jerry’s and as I am a slave to product placement, and I dreamt about it, I knew I wouldn’t be happy until I got my hands on some. My favourite flavours are chocolate fudge brownie and cookie dough. For the longest time I hated having to choose between the two of them. So imagine my surprise when I am browsing the frozen section of the supermarket doing the mental coin toss of heads is cookie, tails is fudge, to find Half Baked Ben and Jerry’s. I had no idea this stuff existed. We have Sky+ so I don’t really see a lot of adverts – something I am now seriously regretting because I am out of the half baked loop. It’s brownie and cookie in one tub!!! (Trust me, this is worthy of 3 exclamation points…)

I guess I am a bit like an athlete who has had a bad race in this way. I missed my chance when half baked first came out, but I’m making up for it now. I will never be a champion swimmer, I’ll never be worthy of gold on track. I may never be able to do a back flip off a high beam (obviously I could, if I wanted to – I just don’t want to outshine everyone), but I, Morag Boles, have seen my favourite flavours united in one tub of delicious cold creaminess – and finding it makes me feel like I’ve already won my medal. Who’d have thought it – London 2012 and ice cream teaming up to help me see my dreams made real – the men and women of the Olympics proving that anything is possible, and the ice cream to prove that you don’t have to superhuman to get there… If that’s not enough to make a nation proud, I don’t know what is.

 
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Posted by on August 1, 2012 in diet, entertainment, food

 

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If there’s no chocolate in heaven I’m not going

Taken from ideasbynet.com

I have been thinking about chocolate. Those of you who know me will know that this is not an uncommon occurance. Chocolate is one of the basic fundamentals in my life – one of the things I could not live without. It is an attachment so strong that I would go so far as saying that a chocolate bar would be one of the five things I would grab when fleeing a burning building. I would sacrifice my phone for it.

I have been trying to find the best way to rationalise my relationship with chocolate – why I love it so much, why my attachment is becoming stronger, and I think I may have finally cracked it. Chocolate is good for you – good for the soul.

Before you all disregard this idea hear me out… First of all, it’s made from BEANS. Last time I checked, that was a vegetable (I don’t care that cocoa beans aren’t really vegetables, I hear beans, I think veg…) Secondly, I am becoming more dependent on chocolate as I get older. I am no longer a child. I must face up to this (Boyf when you read this, please refrain from doing your smug dance – I had to deal with it at some point, but it doesn’t make you right) and if owning up to becoming an adult means I can justifiably drown in chocolate then all the better. It is often said that you become wiser with age, and as I am becoming more dependent on the stuff, doesn’t that mean that on some level, my subconscious knows that chocolate is good for me? I’d like to think so. I have to believe it is true. There has to be some perks to getting older. I’m not saying I’m old by any means. I have a fruitful and long life ahead of me I am sure, just like I am sure that I’m supposed to be enjoying chocolate during that life. It’s fate.

Chocolate is the diamond of the confectionery world. It may not last forever, but the love that remains with the wrapper does. It’s the perfect partner, it has restored my faith in love. There’s no fighting, no nagging, no mess to clean up. It doesn’t leave the toilet seat up (sorry guys), it doesn’t order you to put the toilet seat down, it doesn’t leave piles of dirty clothes all over the bedroom floor… It’s just pure perfection. The Cadbury Christ. No matter how rubbish the day has been, it always gets better when you realise you can curl up with chocolate at the end of it.

I’d love to know if you can get earthly delights in heaven. Imagine if you couldn’t. No chocolate in heaven… Now that’s a scary thought. There has to be chocolate in the afterlife. One life is not enough time to have consumed enough chocolate. More people would revert to faith if we know that the chocolate will be sweeter on the other side. For thine is the praline, the milk and the Belgian, for now and ever more, Amen.

 
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Posted by on July 20, 2012 in diet, food

 

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