Wednesday, September 23, 2015


So, yeah, I've joined Weight Watchers. In fact, as you're reading this, I'm sitting outside the meeting room, waiting to start my third meeting.

It's Luscious' doing, really. She joined some months ago, swallowed the pill without complaint, and has worked so hard she's lost a fifth of her body weight and been approached to become a coach.

Faced with that sort of dedication and positive results, what chance did I have?

So, I've a fitbit on my wrist and my sneakers packed in my work bag, and all the crisps and choccie bars and pizzas and beer have been banished to the you've-had-your-share shelves. And I'm eating lunch at my desk and going for walks at lunch time, and generally just trying to follow in Luscious' tiny, increasingly-light-on-the-ground footsteps.

I weighed 85 kilograms when I had my car accident, maybe a kilo heavier when Sharon died. What I weigh now is no longer the fault of those experiences. So, no more excuses, or justifications. Tackle the weight, and the pain and lifestyle will fall into line.

First week in I lost 2.6 kilograms, which felt like a good start but also gives you some indication of just how much I have to lose.

I'll keep you abreast of how I go.

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