Rebel without a waistline

I have tried yet another diet.  Like millions of women from my generation, I have been dieting on and off since I was 16.  As a teenager, I thought I was enormous.  I weighed less than 100 pounds!   At an early age I assumed that by not being stick thin, I must therefore be 'fat'.  I look back at photos from times when I thought I was 'obese' and realise that I was healthy and looked good.  If I put on another 3 stone, no doubt I will look back at the 2013 me and wish I was 'that thin'.  Thin can be a very relative term.

In my twenties I gained 60 pounds in a few years - which triggered a year of dieting until I got down to just over 100 pounds again.  I ended up having to put on weight to stop being constantly nagged about anorexia.  I was in the RAF at the time, and was regularly dragged in to see the MO about my weight.  When I left the Falklands after a 4 month tour of duty, my Commanding Officer revealed that my unit had sent a warning that I was to be carefully monitored for anorexia.  To me all this was completely over the top, I thought I looked fabulous.  I also found it hard to believe that anyone at my unit took that much notice of me.  As there were 38 women and 1,000 men, on some level dozens of them noticed me, along with my 37 female companions, but they didn't particularly care what size we were or how aesthetically pleasing our features might be.  On my flight home as the plane came into land, the pilot announced 'bad news ladies, you are now all officially ugly again', which still makes me laugh. It wasn't a personal comment against any of us, but really highlighted the fact that we were unlikely to ever again experience that level of attention. 

However some of the weight crept back on.  By my late 30s I was chubby again, but it all went with minimal effort and at 40 I was around 125 pounds, and was happy, very fit due to joining the local rowing club and was happy with my shape.  Since then however, the weight has been steadily creeping on and by early last year I was a size 16 (I am just over 5 foot, so that is quite large).  I lost a stone and gave up.  I hate diets.They make me miserable, bored, boring and increase the self-loathing rather than combat it.  I know eating sensibly is a better option and vow to do that - but then I sit on the sofa and half-heartedly look for jobs all day, apart from walking the dog, so there is a lot of 'snacking' going on.  I note how I am distancing myself from the weight gain - 'it crept back on', 'piling on'.  It didn't.  I overate, I gained the weight.

It really bothers me.  A good friend has pointed out that if we were that bothered, we would do something about it.  I am bothered, but I hate dieting nearly as much as I hate being overweight.

I convince myself that the weight I am is the weight I should be, but occasionally something triggers the desire to be thinner and age triggers the desire to be healthier.  This time it was Facebook - I was looking through my cousin's wedding photos from 2008 and wondered who 'the fat woman' was sitting at the table I was on. I didn't remember her being at our table ... then I realised 'she' was me.  Looking at myself objectively, I had thought I was unattractively fat. That was a couple of stone ago.  SI don't have a fat phobia, I know larger people who look beautiful, but it really doesn't suit me.  I don't feel healthy.  I sleep badly, my knees ache if I walk for too long and this much self-loathing is not good for anyone.  I walk the dog for 1.5 hours every day, but when we go up even a small slope, I am out of breath - how can something I do every day be a struggle if I am healthy?  Something must be wrong, and what is wrong is the 60 blocks of lard secreted within my skin.  I think of weight in terms of blocks of lard, it makes a weight loss of half a pound more of an achievement.

So I tried yet another diet- but not just any diet.  I went for the latest fad diet - the 5:2 fasting diet.  I saw a documentary last year, and it looked interesting.  Every newspaper has covered it, friends swear by it, Twitter swears by it- what higher recommendation is there?  You fast two days a week - 500 calories for women and 600 for men (even when it comes to food, the world is against us).  The other 5 you can eat normally.  I chose to stick to 1700 calories on non-fast days.  I looked it up online, so therefore it must be true, and for my age, gender and height, that is around the recommended intake.  I wanted to eat for the weight I want to be.  I would rather lose a pound a week and keep it off, than an Atkins-style rush to quick loss followed by 6 months of gorging until it is all back.

Apart from the fast days, I ate sensibly, readjusted my idea of a 'normal portion', cooking from scratch rather than convenience foods, drank lots of water, made sure I had 5 portions of vegetables and fruit a day and cut down on alcohol.  Yes, sadly there is that drawback.  However, when you eat less, you get drunk on less, so it wasn't all bad news!    I lost 15 pounds in 2009 briefly following an Atkins style diet, but was ill for months around the same time, it was during the swine flu 'epidemic', but the doctor insisted I didn't have that, however he couldn't tell me what I did have.  It put me off diets for a few years, I couldn't help but wonder if the two were connected.  I decided that I need carbs - unfortunately I have a tendence to plump (if you will pardon the unintended pun) for bad carbs.

The 5:2 diet because the 7:0 diet after a few weeks.  I lost about 3kg and it has stayed off in the months since.  I didn't feel ill on the diet, I just felt bored.  Bored of not eating, bored of hating myself, bored of not being happy with being me.

Maybe I shouldn't diet at all.  I do think my self-image is governed far too much by popular notions of ideal weight -I even looked up my 'ideal' calorie intake.  But I know I don't feel healthy, and will keep telling myself that is my goal, whilst deep down having to admit it is mainly dress-size driven.  I made a vow at the start of the 5:2 diet that when my weight were to plateau, that is the weight I should be.  I now have to remind myself of that and steel myself for the photos from family gatherings.  Don't look for me, just look for the fat bird.