We’re all grown-ups here, so I trust that one woman can talk to another about food, diets, and body image without having to write disclaimers i.e. just because I think this way, it doesn’t mean you have to. Okay? Okay!
(but obviously content warning: diets)
So. I work out four times a week. Three days are heavy lifting, and one day is a more HIIT-based session that leaves me purple and sweaty enough to look like I have haven’t so much “worked out” as I’ve “just been in the shower in my trainers and Fabletics”. I started working out two years ago to get strong for my son and although my frequency can ebb and flow depending on how much work I have on, I have been more consistent with this relationship to exercise than any other before.
(I work out with a group of women who make me want to show up for myself. That’s the trick!!)
It took a year of driving past the gym every day to finally work up the courage to join, because those weights looked hella big. But when I did? I FREAKING LOVED IT. I get to feel like Thor and also? It turns out you can get absolutely off your tits high on exercise endorphins???? 11/10 recommend.
Working out so much, I expected to lose weight. I’ve been trying to lose pandemic weight for years, but instead of losing have actually been steadily continuing to gain. Despite burning 600 calories a session at the gym, weightloss did not happen. The reason it did not happen is that although I can now deadlift 120 kilos, squat 88, single arm deadlift almost 27.5 (weight-lifters like to brag…) I also eat shit like it is an Olympic sport.
Sugary breakfast cereals? Love ‘em. Anything with cheese? Yes please. Wine with dinner? Always. I can polish off a family-sized bar of Dairy Milk and ask what’s for seconds, eat a large stuffed crust Dominoes and still manage the cookies after, and I have often refused a cup of tea if there’s no biscuits. No problemo!
I have lost weight before, but always put it back on because it is easier to eat like a pig and put it down to tiredness, a deadline, life being busy (I’m so unique that way! A busy life!!) than it is to meal prep and organise my shopping and cook from scratch. Love Is Blind UK won’t watch itself, after all.
(We would all die for Freddie, right?)
All this to say, my commitment to eating crap is a gift.
But it is also, sadly, quite obviously a curse.
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