Back to it

I hurt my back at the end of November and – because I’m old now – it’s taken a long time to get right. As a measure of just how long, I don’t think it’s quite there yet. But nearly.

Still, with that as a reason, and my Dad’s visit as a handy excuse, I’ve managed to avoid most forms of strenuous exercise for almost 8 weeks now. Add to that all the calamari, beer and burgers I’ve been enjoying during his stay, and well… there’s some work to do.

I have a couple of inches to lose and a couple of kilos that they can take with them.

This morning (with my Dad still only over Algeria), I went for a slow, hot run. The speed was simply because I couldn’t go any faster, the heat was because it was a hot day.

It didn’t break any records, save for perhaps being the most overdue run in recent history. The back seems to have held up and there have been no immediate after-effects save for quite a lot of tiredness.

Watch this space for more updates as the weight comes off and the fitness increases. Or not, if I decide not to exercise or not to blog about it.

Fat

You’re looking a bit chunky right now.

There. I said it. Someone had to. Fact is, we’ve all been pussy-footing around you for a few weeks now, wondering how best to let you know that you put on a few extra kilos over the festive season. And that they’re still with you. There. And there. And… eww… there.

I know, when you get to our sort of age – and by “our sort of age”, I mean *ahem* mid-30s – it gets tough to keep the weight off. You can’t go out and have a few beers and a curry without there being ongoing consequences. You know what they say: “a moment on the lips, bloody ages sweating it out on the footy field or you’re going to be a complete lard-arse forever”.
And yes, you young folk (I’m looking at your type, Mr Nash) are sitting there going:

Yes, that’s what will happen to other people, but it won’t happen to me.

Bad news, Dan, cos three guesses what we were thinking when we were your age?
Yes, exactly.

But it’s ok. You can stop crying into your copious &Union beers. It doesn’t have to be that way.
This week, I discovered a brand new weight loss plan and I want to share it with you.

See, when you try to lose weight in your 20s – assuming you do the right sort of stuff – you lose weight. And the same goes for when you try to lose weight in your 30s as well-it just takes more time and effort. But then you hit the anti-plateau. It’s like a plateau, but the other way around. It’s like the inverse of a glass ceiling. You head down nicely over a few weeks towards your ideal weight and all seems to be going well and then you hit it and it doesn’t matter how little you eat, how much exercise you do, you can’t break through.

You are on the anti-plateau. It’s a sad and lonely place. And you’re going nowhere fast.
Sorry for you.

Until now. Because today I can reveal a plan to you that made me break through my anti-plateau – 3.5kgs through it – in just a couple of days. Yes: this is the viral gastroenteritis diet plan. Eat nothing, lie in bed and do no exercise and the weight just falls out er… off.

Using microorganisms to assist with weight loss is nothing new. In the early 1900s, tapeworm pills were all the rage among the rich and famous. If you want to try this (and having seen patients with tapeworms, I wouldn’t) just make sure you know your Taenia saginata from your Taenia solium, because the latter will eat your brain (literally).

Enteric viruses won’t do that to you, although they will colonise your colon and wreck your rectum. Aside from the obvious diarrhoea and vomiting, you will also experience the four secondary symptoms of gastroenteritis, namely sweating, shaking, swearing and farting. And because nothing can go in, pretty soon, everything has come out and your vomiting turns into empty retching, each bout of which is the equivalent of 100 sit-ups.
Rock solid abs in a mere 36 hours. This really is a diet plan full of win.

Even now, several days on from the worst of it, I’m only managing the most meagre of portions. A couple of pieces of toast at breakfast time, a yoghurt for lunch and then nothing much in the evening. Thanks to this, my anti-plateau is somewhere way back in the distance and I’m heading down through lush pastures towards GoalWeightVille.

And all just for the bargain price of a couple of days of abject agony and misery.

Do it. If nothing else, at least it’ll stop us all talking about your MASSIVE saddle bags, fatty.