"I could show you some proof, but I don't think you'd want to see it..."
Like most people (I think) I've always had a certain attitude about my weight, specifically that I weigh too much and could be healthy. Insert above quotation here.
Today, I am actually overweight. No kidding, or attempt at hyperbole, no sirree. My belly is pretty evident to all who care to glance in that particular region of my body, and is so evident that people have now started commenting upon it. I think at that point, one has to at least partially acknowledge that there might be some truth to what they're saying: Anthony, you've put weight on.
I haven't been living the most healthiest of lifestyles since moving to London back in 2010. There's been far too few fruit and veg, and an abundance of fast food, or convenience snacks. It's built up, and built up, almost creeping up on me... that I'm now the not so proud owner of a pot belly.
It's scary, because those first few months in London I lost a lot of weight. I looked not quite skeletal, but on the verge of being on the verge of being it! To go from that extreme to this... isn't nice. I'm travelling the wrong way around!!
Growing up, I was always a bit podgy. I longed for a six pack, but it never quite happened - and still hasn't!! That changed when I turned 16, and my appendix went kooky, and needed to be removed in hospital. After that, I spent the next three years super skinny. I think my entire relationship with Katie was spent as skin and bones. I think she wouldn't recognise the fatty I've become if she saw me today.
Around 2008, I was in work and missing my girlfriend-after-Katie, Clare. She was away for three months in New Zealand, and to compensate for her rich girlfriend-y goodness, I ate. And ate. Then ate some more. That was the first taste of me hearing others tell me - "Boy Anthony, you've put weight on recently!"
2009 started with a promise... a healthy eating promise, and I gave up crappy foods like McDonalds, all fizzy drinks, chocolates and crisps. I went back to skinny again (and had the added advantage of super smooth, water-cared-for skin).
Right now, I know I need to lose weight. I sat watching an old Indiana Jones film in the cinema last week, and I swear, I had to unbutton my shirt. The excess of my holiday clearly had a massive impact on my stomach, and as my shirt tightened and tightened during that movie showing... I realised. Shit, things need to change.
Already this week, things are different. I've cut all the junk again, and I've been on a strict portion controlled, all-eyes-on healthy diet. Already I can feel it working. Now I just need to stick to the plan, and keep up the exercise, so the fatty-fatty belly disappears.
Cutting down on a) portions, and b) unnecessary junk takes some adjustment. Boy, I'm starved right now! Don't fret - I *am* eating properly (that's the point) but after such a long time over indulging, my brain thinks it needs more than it actually does. It doesn't - and in this battle of will power, this time I will come out as champion, and win the weight war.
Belly, be gone!