OK, flabby little hand up, I put on 3 stone after Christmas because after a battle with pain-killer induced vomiting my mystery injury kept me off my feet for so long. In my defence, I defy anyone to be in constant intense pain, unable to move, in a non-central heated house, through one of the coldest Winters on record, to NOT get a bit down and turn to the munchies for comfort... and that extra thick layer of flab was bl**dy good insulation let me tell you! It works for Seals doesn't it?
So, I am doing physio now, I joined Weight Watchers, I have been trying reasonably hard to lose some of those porky pounds. They are going, I wasn't fat before this so why shouldn't I get back into my favourite clothes by Christmas? I am not FAT now, just carrying some extra poundage round the middle. But what doesn't help is when you go to the Doctors and have to defend yourself about why you aren't losing it faster. I mentioned the fact that I would lose a lot more, a lot quicker if my ankle wasn't still so bad, and got a lecture about how the only way to get better is to exercise! Then I mentioned the fact that the physio was quite alarmed at just how quickly and badly my ankle swells whenever I do certain movements, how she advised to keep the leg up with an ice pack on whenever my ankle does that... the Doc just went, "Oh, yeah, actually there is quite a fine balancing act between good exercise and making things worse".... Great! Excuse me if I take the physio's advice over yours!
Then I waddled my not even slightly porky little self over to the dispensing chemist with a big black cloud over my head and got asked if I minded filling out some questionaire about Diabetes risk? I think I have very little risk of such so thought, yeah, what the hell, while I wait for my Migraine pills. That involved being weighed, having my waist measurement taken and my height charted... they confirmed that I am very low risk of diabetes BUT then cheerfully pointed out that I am roughly a stone over my ideal weight and at my age I really should think about an exercise programme and perhaps dieting... ggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!
She even asked if the "menopause" (that word has to be whispered in public places by ladies of a certain disposition I have noticed) was the cause, I quite curtly pointed out that NO: I'm fine for hormones right now thanks, and she said, with a dramatic roll of the eyes "Ohhhh, you have all that to come yet". I wandered home lonely as a clown (or whatever Wordsworth was banging on about) and felt like crawling back into bed and pulling the duvet over my head... or eating a huge bar of Cadburys :o(