For a long time I was able to weigh (excuse the pun) in on discussions about weight loss and various diets. I could tell people about the time that I lost over 60lbs following a Weightwatchers plan and that it had been hard at times but, also, not really, I'd just got on with it and fixed the issue that was making me sad.
Only that was in 2011 and we are now in 2014.
So where are we now?
For a long time everything was fine and although I didn't weigh myself (I don't own scales) I could tell just by the way my clothes fit that I was vaguely the same. And I was fine with that, it wasn't about being a particular weight, in fact I wasn't very comfortable at my goal weight, it was just a little too slim for me. It was just about feeling better in myself. And I did.
But come on, I haven't answered the question. Where am I now?
The god's honest truth that I've only just admitted to myself after a fairly hefty period of denial?
I'm only a stone away from where I started in 2011.
And I've managed to put it on in basically the last part of 2013.
We live in a funny little world I think. It's gradually come to my attention that we live in a society where we really enjoy not taking the blame for bad things that happen. I understand that to some degree, it helps to be able to point the finger and say "You, you are the cause of all my woes". I actually saw someone on my Facebook feed make a comment about the recent flooding, followed by the comment "Sort it out Mr Cameron." I know, I judge me for having a friend who would write that too. But it does illustrate a point, we really like blaming people for when bad things happen.
And I am at this point gifted a huge opportunity because I have the ultimate scapegoat to blame for putting weight back on.
The diet industry.
What could be easier than blaming Weightwatchers, the very instrument that helped me lose weight, for putting weight back on again?
Except that I'm not an idiot.
People love to throw around statistics about how people who do diets end up piling the pounds, plus a few extra, back on once they come off the plan. I don't believe I fall into that statistic, we're talking about something that happened just over three years ago, it's not as if I put it all on six months after reaching my gold weight. Weightwatchers did exactly what it is that they are supposed to do. Helped me to lose weight. It is not their job to keep the weight off, that has to be down to me surely?
In this day and age can we ever lay the blame at the diet industry's door? There can't be a person out there that doesn't know that to lose weight you have to eat less and exercise more. If you know this equation then how can it be anyone else's issue but your own?
So if I can't blame it on the diet industry then what else can I blame it on?
Here I could offer you a multitude of excuses.
- I lived with my sister for a year and didn't really have control over what I ate
- Moving away from The Person meant I was sad and more prone to eating rubbish to make myself feel better
- Then when I did go to Preston to see him it was a treat so you'd eat 'treat' type things
- Then we moved back in together and I started eating portions to match his monstrous appetite
- Then the weather was bad and my knee was injured and I couldn't go running and get exercise in
All valid and all contributory towards me piling on more than a few pounds but they are exactly what I just said.
I know more than anybody what I need to do to lose weight. I did it once before, I don't get to have excuses. Emotional eating is a problem, yes, but I'm doing exactly what I said I didn't want to do, which is to pass the buck and blame something else. "Oh it's not my fault I've put weight on, it goes back to deep seated issues I have with food to do with my mother/father/auntie/next door neighbour."
Saying "I'm an emotional eater" is just another excuse.
"Well getting over that is easier said than done" I hear you say. And I couldn't agree more.
I wish I was blessed with a naturally small appetite. I wish that I didn't feel an inexplicable need to finish everything on my plate regardless of whether or not I was hungry. I wish that I didn't want to eat when I was bored/sad/happy/nervous etc etc. But the fact is I do and therefore I have a choice. I can carry on and eat everything in sight and be very overweight and not feel happy in myself, or, I can just fricking eat less and go out for more runs. Sometimes stuff in life doesn't come easy to certain people. Crocheting amigurumi animals? That comes fairly easily to me. Not eating all the food in the cupboards and lazing on the sofa all the time? That comes a little harder.
Believe me if I could find someone to blame for my current situation I would. It would be so much easier. It would be so much easier for it to be someone else's fault that I ended up throwing a strop and not wanting to go out this Saturday night because none of my clothes fit and I felt uncomfortable.
Because the terribly unpalatable truth is that the only person to blame is me.
And finally I've found something that's hard to swallow.