Sweet temptation

Friday 13th October '06

Over the summer, as I just couldn’t stomach the attempt to run, I decided to take up yoga. In the face of astronomical prices at the local gym, I brought a video off the internet. My god, it’s harder than it looks. I actually did a year of yoga classes when I was sixteen, but I don’t remember it being anywhere near as painful as this. The trouble was, in the absence of a handy mirror or instructor to tell me if I was doing it correctly, I didn’t know if the pain was a good thing, brought about by healthy exertion, or a pulled muscle. I soon gave up. I keep meaning to start again, but never seem to get around to it. I am also being repeatedly harassed as to why I am not running around the park at the crack of dawn every morning with my housemates. I just can’t do it. The few times I have, I just lacerated my feet. They came back bruised, blistered and bleeding every time. I could of course go and buy some super, high-tech shoes, but somehow I never seem to get around to that one either…

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Dieting. God, I hate dieting. But I also hate exercise, and as I seem to be essentially short on time and will power, it’s rapidly becoming my only option. I don’t hold with diets. I think they’re stupid. The only diet you will ever need in my opinion is this one; eat less, eat healthily, and move more. So why can’t I take my own advice and lose weight? In my case it’s really, really simple. I just love food. Not all foods, mind you. To be honest it pretty much is exclusively desserts and savoury nibbley bits that get me. The rest I could take or leave. The thing is, I really hate salads and pretentious health foods. I just don’t like the taste, I’d rather go without dinner than eat a salad, I really would. Despite the odd binge or two, the food I eat on a regular basis is relatively healthy and good for you, (Certainly compared with some people I know) but it just isn’t slimming.

When I was four I had a serious accident that nearly claimed my life. Thanks to emergency surgery I am still here, but I was left with a condition called adhesions. This involves (Amongst other things) a highly sensitive and quirky digestive system, random attacks of excruciating pain, and an inability to digest my food efficiently. Due to this, or maybe just because nature made me that way, I have always been of a somewhat weak constitution. Just like some sort of sickly Victorian maiden really. You know the type; pale, fleshy, a little bit anaemic looking. Always riddled with a variety of minor complaints and allergies that never seem to have any definable cause or cure. Definitely in want of some good fresh air and vitamins, your grandmother would probably say. I always have to be careful with what I eat, and seem to be constantly craving something or another. I will always go with what my body craves. I trust it. Lunch today was sushi, a whole bunch of grapes and a blueberry yoghurt. The other day it was two pints of strawberry milk. (I know, I know, all probably loaded with sugar and chemicals, but that was a minor hiccough I promise). I guess I’m just making excuses really, but the point is food is a lot trickier for me than most.

My other big problem with dieting sees the most elementary really, I get hungry. Really hungry. My stomach rumbles loudly, I get shooting hunger pangs, I feel faint and weak and am unable to concentrate. And its no use telling me to just fill up on healthy snacks like carrot sticks or celery, I’ve tried it and it doesn’t work, believe me. There is also the drinking. Now I don’t really drink that often, it probably averages out to once a week I guess, but it is probably the biggest source of my rogue calorie intake. Here come the excuses.

1. I get really thirsty in hot, smoky pubs and bars, especially when I’m dancing. 2. You can never sneak in your own bottle of water, and in the places we frequent, soft drinks, and sometimes, even water is more expensive than beer. 3. Peer pressure, enough said. 4. Spirits (The lowest calorie option) are expensive and generally disgusting, even in mixers. The nicer ones, and for me that pretty much only encompasses gin and tonic, keep you stone cold sober until about three hours later when you suddenly vomit and fall over. They also don’t solve the thirst problem and leave you without the social comfort of having a drink in your hand. 5. I have absolutely no self-control, and once I’ve had one drink, I’ve had five. 6. I’m shy. Painfully shy, and frankly I’ll take all the help I can get.

I guess the only other barrier is the psychological one, namely my extreme love of sweet foods. I don’t know why, but I have the sweetest tooth. Nothing makes me feel sick. No amount of sweeties can ever defeat me. Savouries can, but never sweets.