The Enemy Within

Fatness is not a waist size.

And that’s been a horrible, painful sometimes realisation.

As various photos over social media websites can confirm, my weight has yo-yoed over the years by a large amount. As a kid, a combination of shyness, loneliness and gluttony slid me towards second helpings and the big portions that were common in our household. Food was, and always has been, a thing of solace, of comfort. It’s been my worst enemy and my best friend.

It’s a mindset that is very difficult to escape from.

I’m sad...let’s eat

I’m happy...let’s eat

I’m stressed...let’s eat

I’m celebrating...let’s eat

I’m upset...let’s eat

I’m relaxed...let’s eat

I’m angry...let’s eat

I’m bored...let’s eat

... and so on.

As an adult, getting involved in training/sport has meant that my weight has been the most stable (and probably healthiest) it’s been my entire life. My stomach is a foot (in measurement) smaller than it was when I was at my heaviest. Of course, I feel better, however, I still think like ‘Fat Mitch’ (or Tubby Mitch as the nickname was at Uni).  

At the risk of seeming to abdicate responsibility, for the ‘fat’ person there is no choice when it comes to food. If it’s there you want it. You need it. You know it will (briefly) make you feel good.  Consequently, I have never been able to understand those who just treat food as fuel. It is something that can give a person so much pleasure, can offer such an basic emotional response in a variety of situations.

As a runner, you know deep down that the thinner you are the faster you are likely to be. So every day is a little bit of torture that whatever you’re eating isn’t doing your race times any good. Do you really need that glass *coughhalfbottlecough* of wine? Is it wise to have that desert?

My diet for London has been a mess really. I’ve been craving food because of the training, but not eating the right things. Someone shoving wholemeal pasta in my face will be told “come on, off you fuck”. But I accept there are choices to be made. I need to get a grip of this over the coming months. As non-professional athletes, there is a balance to be had - between taking things too seriously and doing things to aid performance and the pursuit of your goals. It’s a balance I’ve not got right. Ever. I have times when my diet is Saintly. There are other times, usually when I’m stressed, when I can even disgust myself with what goes down my gullet without a second though.

I haven’t really got any conclusions for this post. Just wanted to get it off my chest really. I know that I have to make the change mentally and nobody else can do it for me.  I’ll get there in the end, but there’s a lot of shit to work through in my head first.

Now, anyone for a scone?