About seven and a half years ago, my dad died.
Four or five months after that, I managed to go on a diet.
It’s pretty clear that my dad died from disease that are connected with eating too much.
He had adult, type 2, diabetes. He had a fatty liver, and then he had liver cancer.
He also fantasized about food pretty much all of the time.
I don’t as far as I know, yet have adult diabetes. But I do have fatty liver.
I also have sleep apnoea.
I also have high blood pressure.
When I lost weight as a result of my diet, all of these things went away.
I struggled to keep the weight off, and then the pandemic came.
For three years, I worked from home, sitting at the kitchen table, about three feet from my fridge and the cupboard where we keep the biscuits.
Now I’m bigger than ever. And my blood pressure is high, even with the help of pills.
I’m beginning to seriously worry that I don’t have long for this world.
And this is a shame. Because for the first time in a long, long while, I’m beginning to enjoy myself.
I’ve just recently had a book accepted for publication and I really want to finish that before I peg it.
And having had the experience of writing one book, I think there might be one or two that maybe I could write.
When you’re my height and 118.5 Kg, one of the things that you have to do is to admit to yourself that nothing you have thought of so far has worked.
Well, what did work was two pieces of fruit and a slimfast shake in a morning, a pret a manger soup and an entire bottle of water for lunch, and then a “normal” meal in the evening, but with few, or any starchy foods.
Maybe I should go back to that.
One thing that has worked for me, is walking a lot, and regularly. I think there’s a “sweet spot” somewhere around seven to eight miles a day. If I can keep that sort of distance up regularly every day, or nearly every day, my brain seems to work better.
Also, if I can keep that up, I’m spending a substantial amount of my day away from my fridge.
So that’s what I’m going to do now - go out for a walk.