I love junk food. There, I said it.
Unfortunately, junk food does not love me back. It's more like me stalking it and it is sitting there in it's shiny, eye catching packets and mocking me.
All this self denial started back on May 21 when I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. In all fairness, I knew it was coming. My weight had more or less spiralled out of control for years and I did no exercise at all apart from walking to and from work. However, this line in the medical sand was probably what I needed. Actually, no probably about it. I decided there and then that the diet had to change and I had to get out and do something.
So that fateful Friday we dumped everything nutritionally malicious in the house, gave the deep fryer the heave ho and started eating from a selection of diabetic friendly menus. Funnily enough, the internet is handy for stuff like that. Here was me thinking it was free music and porn only. Who knew?
On the following Monday I started walking at lunchtime. From the office door to a nearby village church. A couple of miles anyway. I've never measured it. Only in terms of pain and sweat but that is hardly an acceptable numeric denominator. It fucking should be. I pass a sign saying where I came from is 2.2km back the other way so I am guessing I do a little over 4.4km every lunchtime. Whatevs.
After a couple of weeks walking that I thought that it wasn't really getting my heart rate going quickly enough. So I took it upon myself to walk/jog the route. So I would jog from tree to tree or electricity pole to pole. After five months of this I am jogging it more than walking it which for me is a major breakthrough. I want instant improvement and to be able to run fleet of foot like the healthy chaps that pass me every day. I do realise however that I am trying to reverse a trend of not exercising EVER so it will take a long time. I could probably be at the same stage 12 months on. I feel once I do realise that I shouldn't get too disillusioned.
I made a decision the day I started only to weigh myself every three months to monitor how I am doing. So after three months I did and found that I had lost three stone. I was very happy with this as you might imagine. I am now down to 17.5 stone from 21.5 stone and even if it takes forever, as long as it is heading down instead of up then that'll do me.
I fucking ache all the time though. I think the pounding on the roads has taken it's toll on my hips, knees and ankles. So now, for a while, I have taken to jogging hard every two days with a rest day in between to give me some respite.
Anyway, who gives a flying fuck right? It's working for me and if anyone reads this who feels they need to do something about their own weight...well if it works for *me*, as anyone who knows me will tell you, it can work for anyone.
As for the junk food? To be honest, I don't even miss it anymore. Amazing what you can get used to.
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