I recently had lunch with a friend who now happens to be the girlfriend of someone I went to school with (bear with me here…). She said they’d been discussing what a small world it was & he mentioned that when he’d known me before I ‘used to be well fit’. Well, that must be the worst compliment ever?!
He is right, I suppose: when I was in my mid-teens, I was very fit, healthy & loved competitive sport. I played netball, hockey, basketball & ski raced regularly, which meant that I went on fitness camps, ran & did weights daily. Looking back, I was pretty damn hot. I even had a six pack. What I’d give for a six pack now….
When I reached 17, I got kidney failure as a result of glandular fever & that’s where the saga with my weight began, as the exercise stopped abruptly & I slowly but surely put weight on & became a bit more squidgy around the edges with every year that passed. I never really regained my previous fitness levels, due in part that I never regained my energy levels & so exercise became much less enjoyable & more of a chore.
It was also around this time that I discovered alcohol & this, I fear, was the final nail in my figure’s coffin. Since then, I’ve tried more than my fair share of diets, with varying degrees of success….