That last entry sure was depressing, eh? But here I am, writing this late at night way up high in the sky, just to reassure everyone (and myself) that it’s not all doom and gloom.
I’ve met some inspiring successful maintainers through this site and they’ve often told me that it sucks… but it does get easier over time. And even though I would have to be the slowest learner of all — I’m like those insects that hurl themselves into light bulbs over and over again and taking forever to realise ouch that hurts, perhaps I shouldn’t keep doing that — even a chump like me is finding it easier as time goes on.
Example of progress:
2000 – ATE: 2 litre tub of ice cream. REACTION: Complete catastrophic meltdown and at least 7 day banishment to the Self Loathing Pit.
2006 – ATE: Mars Bar. REACTION: Oh well, eat less tomorrow.
(Of course this doesn’t happen all the time, there are occasional hysterics. Like last week I purchased and swiftly demolished a pack of salt and vinegar Hula Hoops while waiting for the train, then sat looking at the empty packet wondering how/why that happened and despaired over what long-time readers of this site must think. Is she thick? Will she ever learn?)
What I love about having a Fat Blog is how you can start writing an entry feeling distraught about some Fat Issue and by the time you’ve spent an hour thrashing the keyboard, your thoughts have cleared and you realise the situation is not as terrible as you thought. Like when I watched that episode of Real Story last week, I was soaking up the anxiety and gloom of all those women they interviewed like a grotty old kitchen sponge. But when I finally finished writing about it on here, I realised I am not those women. I am really not doing as badly as I think. It’s getting better all the time. You really have to focus on the positive steps you’ve taken and give yourself some credit. I am NOT as obsessed with food as I used to be. It’s really been tamed into just… unbridled enthusiasm!
And we’re all doing okay. All us kids in internet land. We are learning off each other all the time…
Corn alert! Corniness ahead!
Tonight at Heathrow when I was all bored and lonely since my stinking flight was delayed, I paid £1 for ten tiny minutes of internet time just to check the comments. I got all sentimental thinking about us geeks and how I’ve watched us shrink yet freaking grow! This is not about exercise tips, recipes and well-meaning advice, it’s watching each other kick ass and fall over and get up to kick ass again, with everyone cheering and commiserating each other. There’s just such a great vibe with this blogging thing sometimes. I know I never would have come so far without all the folks out there to engage with. Onward and downward, comrades!
End of corn.
You have to understand it’s been an emotional day, kiddies; full of planes and airports and goodbyes. I went to London to see The Mothership before she headed back to Australia, and I got to hang out with her and my sister. We had afternoon tea at a posh hotel for her belated 50th birthday present and feasted on cucumber sandwiches and fiddly French pastries. And it only occurred to me now, up here in the plane hours later, how absorbed I’d been in the moment, so chuffed to have the old gang together again for the first time since April 2004. I’d guzzled five cups of tea and 2.5 scones piled with obscene amounts of jam and clotted cream, and not once did I panic about the calories. I just thought, COOL, here I am in the swanky hotel with my two best ladies and this is mighty fun.
I felt this calmness all weekend. I ate some great food but was completely sane and sensible about it. For once I came away from London stuffed with happy memories of the friends and family I saw, instead of stuffed with remorse for my overindulgence.
So now I am scribbling all this on the back of my boarding pass (online check-in rules!) at 11PM. The captain says we’re 75 miles from Edinburgh and it’s mighty turbulent. But I just wanted to get this down and I vow to transcribe it later without editing it to death and tell you all it can get better, even if you’re a bit thick like me. I ain’t afraid of a scone no more.