Operation Don’t Die: Update.

Previously on this kind of update I’ve talked about being too fat. Turns out that’s not really what I meant, and it has taken observing my kids to realise that. Driven (I am assuming as I don’t use the same kind of vernacular) by peers and social media and popular culture, the youngest has taken to using ‘fat’ as an insult. Not just in terms of body types, but as a general insult – she has before now used the term ‘fat brain’, not only directed at her sibling, but also herself. We are frequently pointing out to her that fat is not a negative, that thinness isn’t an indication of health and there are many mitigating factors that show higher weight isn’t necessarily indicative of poorer health.

We’re not currently getting through to her – both of my kids are at that age where the influence of parents is low compared to other places and getting lower. It did however, give me cause to think about how on previous ‘Operation Don’t Die’ updates I tended to pile insults onto myself about being fat.

Previously when I actually lost weight, it occurred to me that I was in a job in retail preparing for Christmas, working 80-hour weeks and skipping at least one meal a day. Everyone told me how good I looked at the time, and that positive reinforcement I think stuck with me, linking not eating properly and losing weight because of that being a good thing. Clearly that isn’t healthy.

Another time when I pretty much cut out sugar and bread and left everything else the same I also got a great deal of positive comments. I didn’t lose as much weight as I did during the stressful meal-skipping period, but I did drop a few centimetres off the belly, just not so much that I wouldn’t still have considered myself overweight.

I am not one of those people that have used this lockdown period to turn myself into a godlike specimen of human physicality (well-played those of you that have managed to do just that). But it isn’t the larger waist that should be concerning me; it’s the lack of exercise. I no longer walk to work, at least for now, and finding the time to replace even that amount of cardiac exercise has proven problematic. Between not feeling like I’m giving enough attention to my kids, as well as not being able to spend as much time ‘at work’ in the little study in the corner of the house, taking out an hour or more each day to go off and walk for my own health feels selfish, although nobody else at home or work would think so.

So things to work on then, both physically and mentally. Only thing to do is keep trying I guess.

Operation Don’t Die: Update

I’m 40 this year. In May. I wonder if I can use that. Currently, I’m a little slack in my efforts to unflab. An upcoming significant birthday might be the catalyst I need to refocus a little. So I’m planning a playlist for regular exercise session I can do at home (not about to join a gym). Rach has brought a book home with some ideas about what I can do.

I think something to aim for should go some way to help me. I can be quite good most of the time, but the problem with me is maintaining a regime for an extended period of time – quite frankly in my natural state I’m a lazy arse, and the laziness is always threatening to undo any progress I make.

Still, I would think that after 40, as I get older, my body is less and less likely to put up with my shite, leaving me open to heart disease, diabetes and other shitty conditions that are more likely to hit you if you’re unfit and overweight.

This isn’t about body positivity or anything for me – I’d look naff by most standards even at peak fitness, so it’s about living longer. I’m not big boned, I’m fat. So let’s see if I can make some progress before I turn the big 4-0.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

The bike is still in working order and the cycling to work has been continuing fairly steadily for 2 days a week most weeks. Still doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. In fact, there is a bugger of a hill that I used to be able to manage but can’t seem to conquer at the moment (for those of you familiar with my whereabouts geographically, it’s the hill that leads up from Oakengates to the Domino’s Pizza roundabout). It’s annoying that I’m not noticeably getting fitter.

I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m really not a morning person. I stay up too late and resent having to get up. When you include a 4-mile(ish) bike ride up some pretty shitty hills before even starting work it doesn’t improve matters. I suppose I should do even more, but by the end of the week I tend to be so knackered (not just the cycling, but everything else as well) that there’s little room in the weekends for it.

I guess I should just keep on keeping on though – it’s got to be better for me than not doing it, hasn’t it?

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

The bike has been fixed. The cycling to work has restarted. It is harder than I remember it being. The route is partially blocked due to roadworks so I could do with find an alternative way. My arse bone is ridiculously painful. I still haven’t fully recovered all the feeling in my fingertips from when I cycled in the winter last year after forgetting my gloves. I almost forgot my gloves the first day and had to turn back for them.

But, the bottom line is, I need to do more exercise. So, ever graceful in my suffering, I’ll persevere. Until I get another flat.

Operation Don’t Die - Update.

I am, frankly, not much further on. I’m still alive, which I suppose is a victory of sorts. Truth is though, I have made progress recently, but in a slightly different way. I’ve made progress not in terms of obvious weight-loss, but more in terms of an improved diet and an increase in exercise, which should, in the long-term, assist with the weight loss.

Katie has declared that among the many varied things she wants to be when she grows up are an ‘Olympic swimmer’ and a ‘professional footballer’. As such she’s taken a keen interest in exercise and healthy eating and I figured it was an ideal time to get on this bandwagon while I have an excuse. As such, we’ve been paying regular visits to a local field to indulge in races, jogging, tennis and football, all of which leave us in a state of happy exhaustion, content in the feeling of our fast-beating hearts as we lay on the grass.

More often than I’ve been entirely comfortable with, we’ve had to arrange a slightly tweaked version of whatever food we prepare for the sake of my crap taste buds and over-fussiness. Coinciding with the exercise, I have decided to do away with the meal-amendments (where possible – I’m still not putting up with melted cheese), and have the same as everyone else. So far I’ve not been disgusted, but neither have I discovered any hitherto unknown taste sensations. As the meals are generally quite a bit healthier, I’m counting it as a win.

So not great strides, but I think some useful groundwork laid. Onwards and upwards, eh?

Operation Don’t Die - Update.

We went and bought a bike. Now there’s even less of an excuse for being in the lazy unfit state I’m in. Not only that, it was bought under a ‘Cycle to Work’ scheme. Dammit.

Still, being fitter is a good thing, right? The sore arse bone I get from the saddle will fade in time, right? The cramps I get in the legs will ease up the more I do it, right? I gotta say, even when I actually did regular exercise it never became anything other than awful.

But, if I want to be less blubbersome (and I do), I need to persevere with it. I do prefer the swimming to the cycling, but if I’m relying on the bike to get to and from work then it will be unavoidable, and not just something I have to find the time to fit in like the swimming was.

I was always cursed with bikes growing up; I’d only have to look at it and it would get a flat tire, but so far, so good, and we’ll see how much difference cycling to and from work makes.

Laters.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

It's been some time since I last wrote about this eternal struggle. And that's because for a while now I've kind of stopped trying. Like everyone who tries to lose fat bastard points, I tried a few different things and they worked or didn't with varying degrees of success. I'm alive, so I guess you could say that, having called it Operation Don't Die it has, so far, been successful. That's not the whole truth though, and seeing as failure in this respect is eventually inevitable, it should be called Operation Keep from Dying for as Long as Possible. Less catchy though.

As I've mentioned before in these things, I don't really like food all that much, which makes me less inclined to try different things, leading me to stuff the same things down my throat week in, week out. In addition, I don't handle bad or stressful days particularly well, and I tend to want to give up being good too easily. Still, I'm not quite to King of the Toads again just yet.

The thing that seemed to work best for me was an internal mantra - "Just don't fucking do it." When the snack trolley came by at work, or when I was awake late at night, I would tell myself this until the moment had passed. I ought to try that again. We'll see if it works.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

It’s been a while. As previously noted, much of the progress originally made was, um, un-made. I think I may be getting calorie intake under control again. What’s annoying is that I don’t actually like food all that much. I guess if I did, I could probably make eating less a bit more interesting, but as it is, I just end up not bothering to eat properly. I swear, if I didn’t have kids to try to set a good example for and a wife to guide me in setting that example, I’d probably be ten-tonne-Tessa-from-Texas by now. Another way in which my wife has saved my life.

It has, however, been too long since I stopped my regular exercise routine. New responsibilities at work tend to leave me less time, but I hope I can start going swimming at lunch times again. I went recently for the first time in ages. It’s basically whatever comes first – 30 minutes or 60 lengths (calm yourself, this is not exactly a full-length pool we’re talking about here). Previously I was making 60 lengths in less than 25 minutes and was considering going to 70. This time, I made the 60 with just a few minutes to spare and the last 15 damn near killed me. So, some ground to make up there.

Still, gives me something to do doesn’t it?

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

It’s been a while, so I thought an update might be required. Truth is, there isn’t a great deal to report. Still waddling along, occasionally upping the exercise for a little while, with not a great deal changing. Things have been quite, while not exactly stressful, a little bit more full on recently. During this time, I’ve managed to confirm that under this increased load, I tend to shovel more crap into my mouth and have a tendency to not give quite the shit I usually do about health, fitness or chub-levels.

If all this sounds like I’m trying to find excuses for failing to lose weight, well, that’s because that’s what it is. I’ve not exactly gone all Cartman, but I have recently lost my weight loss mojo, and I should really try to get that back. We’ll see if I can. Stay tuned kids.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

Well. I’m still less than I was. But the progress, it is also less than it was. I kind of ran out of steam on the regime I was on. If it’s supposed to be a change for life, then it can’t be something you get sick of, right? It’s gotta be sustainable. I didn’t so much as fall off the bandwagon, it was more like I was being crushed under its wheels.

So, I’ve altered it a little. I’m now going for more of a gradual long term improvement, rather than quick de-chubbing. I no longer feel quite like King of the Toads. It’s a bit tricky at the moment, because there’s not enough money to go on with the swimming, but it isn’t like there aren’t cheaper, nay free ways of getting exercise, so I reckon I’ll manage. Like they say, slow and steady wins the race. And loses the chins. Eventually.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

So, since this year got underway it has been markedly more difficult to get out of the Christmas period of excess (I had December off, see). I’ve not gone back to how I was, but the weight loss has slowed down, and perhaps even reversed just slightly. If I exercise a little more will power, I could probably maintain this weight without too much trouble. The problem is, I could still do with kicking off a bit more. While I might be able to fasten the top button on my shirts now, I still resemble a grown up ginger Chunk doing the truffle shuffle when shaking my shaving gel in the bathroom mirror. Work still to be done, then.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

So, it’s been about four months since I declared my intention to not be such a bloater, and, mostly, progress is still slowly being made. A couple of stones have been lost (not sure exactly how much), resulting in less hideous chin and less bulbous belly, and the positive comments continue come my way. Hurrah! I did tweak it recently, because it got rather boring – I now give myself the weekends off. So the progress has slowed, but is still being made. No longer king of the toads. More like a prince. There is still work to be done though – I’m aiming for at least a minor functionary.

Operation Don’t Die: Update.

Still fat. But maybe not quite as fat. One colleague referred to me as ‘trimmer’, and more than one family member has commented favourably. Also started up the swimming and the walking again this week. It might actually be working. Might have to have a weekend off soon, though – feeling the wine withdrawal.

Operation Don’t Die.

I might well be coming off like some kind of Bridget Jones here, but I’m a bit of a fat bastard. I don’t exactly belong in a freak show, but more than one chin is too many, you know? During a recent home movie shot by my parents there is a shot of me sitting in our garden and I look like the king of the toads. Big belly, bulbous chin. Basically, a chubby cunt.

Back when I worked in retail, I was a little overweight, but with a stock room up a flight of stairs and delivery bay down a flight of stairs and a frequently broken lift, I was pretty active, almost every day. Often I would work until 11pm, skipping the evening meal. On the run-up to Christmas I would do 80-hour weeks. About six years ago, the company I worked for went under and, as I had just got married, I scrabbled to get a job as quickly as possible. I’ve worked in offices ever since, and the large amount of sitting I do has seen me chub up.

This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this, and some time ago I started Operation Don’t Die, figuring if I lost some weight and became a little more active, I might live to see my kids turn 30. To be honest, ODD has so far turned out to be less than successful, the biggest piece of evidence for this being the fact that I am still a fat twat. So, I figured if I made ODD a part of this blog, in the public eye, so to speak, it might pressure me to make more of an effort. Never know – worth a try, right?

Last time it involved eating half the number of sandwiches at lunch, replacing fat crisps with French Fries, and reducing the amount of wine, bread, and general crap I stuff down my gob. Along with that, there was an increase in the amount of walking I do and even going swimming on Monday and Tuesday lunch times. It kind of worked, for a while. Too much work meant the swimming was soon sacrificed, but I have no choice but to keep up the brisk walking, only having one car and a wife who works miles away. Of course, that’s probably not enough, but, if you’ll indulge a cliché, we all have to start somewhere. I’ll let you know how I get on. Whether you want me to or not.