The Opposite of Progress


It would appear that the opposite of progress is regression, but that sounded much too high brow for this chicken-in-a-basket style blog. When I have my Negative Nancy hat on, I see regression in everything I do; but nothing haunts me more than when I see regression on the scales. In my last post, I was a trim and svelte 12 stone 2 pounds – my lightest since around April. Today, I sit before you as a hulking mass of pure lard, eight pounds heavier than I was a mere five days ago.

Bollocks anyway.

I knew this would be the case though, but it doesn’t mean I don’t follow that old familiar pattern of shame, guilt, and bad temper when I can shake my belly like a bowl full of jelly. What caused this spike in obesity? A weekend in Donegal. On holiday. For those of you in far flung lands, Donegal looks like this:


And if you’re very lucky, you might come across a few of these:


No drunken nuns for me though, mores the pity. So how the hell does someone gain over half a stone in such a short space of time? In an attempt to make the reader either feel better about their indulgences, or to serve as a warning to those thinking they can get away with unbridled scoffing, I shall attempt to enumerate my munchings to see if I can identify where I went wrong.

Saturday 18th August – Pre-holiday feasting

I did my ten mile long run on Saturday evening, so felt I deserved some German biscuits and Toblerone to recover. And Magners. Don’t judge me.

Sunday 19th August – Holiday Day One

I spent the morning packing, and then was informed that I would be driving my mother and granny to Donegal. I hate driving. To maximise productivity and minimise mess, I had three bowls of cereal as opposed to a SW fry up. En route to the hotel, we had to stop halfway for lunch. I played it safe by having a baked potato and beans! Aren’t I good? Upon arrival, where we met up with the rest of the family, I got changed into my running gear and went for a five miler. On holiday. How committed am I?! Quick shower, quick tin of Magners before dinner. Dinner – Chicken Escalope with Warm Goats Cheese and roasted vegetables. Utterly yum, but let’s face it, the veg were olive oil heavy and the plate was trembling with cheese! Not the healthiest option, even though I ordered a side salad instead of chips or mash. The salad came with coleslaw and potato salad. FML. Dessert? Of course. Homemade apple tart (I say tart, ‘pie’ is gay) with ice cream. Drinks? Many. One bottle of Pinot grigio was marked FAO McCooey, which I gratefully signed for and dispatched to my liver posthaste. A quick visit to the shop later, for a sneaky cigarette and some water, and I returned with a Dairy Milk Whole Nut in my pocket. Because I’m a tramp. I ate it in bed whilst reading Harry Potter. Because I’m a tramp.

Monday 20th August – Day Two, and still hungry.

Breakfast was a buffet affair. I had some Bran Flakes, followed by a pretend SW fry. Pretend, as in, it resembled my healthy breakfast favourite; but was most likely not prepared in the same way. Bacon, scrambled eggs, and inferior budget beans. I could cope with the unhealthyness of the meal if the beans had been Heinz. Beanz really does meanz Heinz in my opinion, all other brands taste like lies. Anyway, I put them away with the rest. And had some toast and marmalade for old times sake. A little later, on a quest for a decent cup of coffee, I put away a cherry scone with butter and jam too. After a day of shopping, dinner rolled around again. I had the same dish again, as I love goats cheese so much I could brush my teeth with it. Again, I had apple tart for dessert. Again, I drank over a bottle of white wine. And again, I read some Harry Potter with a Butterfinger! Sounds salacious, but perfectly innocent.

Tuesday 21st August – Hometime, eventually.

Breakfast took the same form as the previous day, but with some mini Danishes on the side. Before we departed the hotel, I went in search of the same beautiful coffee and the same beautiful scone…after all, it was to be a long drive. I also picked up some more Dairy Milk bars, as Irish Dairy Milk is completely different to the UK version – and it is infinitely better. It’s the only sound reasoning for a united Ireland. To remind myself of how much better it is, I nabbed half a bar before getting into the drivers seat. Again, we had to stop halfway for another feed. I was getting fed up of rich food at this stage, but knew the end was nigh and I’d regret not indulging. I had a cheese and ham toastie (how rustic) with chips and salad. And a banoffee pie for dessert!! I arrived home at nearly ten o clock at night, and was starving. I had more cereal, more chocolate, and went to bed.

Wednesday 22nd August – post holiday blues

I got back on the horse immediately. Then I tried to eat the horse and realised I was firmly in the grip of HPFS – Holiday Pie Fest Syndrome. I ignored it valiantly for most of the day, but hunger capitulated me in the late evening and I had more cereal. I had a SW friendly dinner, but the damage had been done, so I hit the rest of the Toblerone before bed.

Today – Normal eating, but only just

I am back on the horse again. I won’t lie, it feels shitty. I am utterly raging that I have to eat fruit, lean meats, and cheese free vegetables again. I would much rather be eating a massive bowl of Fruit and Fibre (no, I don’t understand my Kellogg’s lust either). But look what happens when I eat what I want. I gain weight exponentially. If I did the same for two or three months, I regain everything it took me three years to lose.

It’s a sad and shitty fact of life that some people can eat what they want and stay slim, yet others just can’t. It’s also a fact of life that some people can continue to gain weight year after year after year, and simply not care what they look like – and honestly? I wish I was one of those people. Anyone who says that they genuinely prefer eating ‘healthy’ food as opposed to junk food is a total liar! If I had the choice, I would go for the junk. It’s cheaper, it tastes nicer, and it’s instant. But it kills people. That’s such a Brass Eye style comment, but it does! I don’t fear death though, I just fear being a fat bastard. So I shall eat my Ryvita and enjoy it. Hopefully on Saturday I will have reigned in the numbers on the scales back to acceptable levels. I will let you know how it goes! Then you can decide for yourselves whether or not the odd Foodgasm explosion of gluttony is worth it. I know it is, but it just doesn’t feel like it at the minute.



4 thoughts on “The Opposite of Progress

  1. I totally agree that I’d love nothing more than to drown in a vat of molten cheese, but the last four weeks off-plan have left me feeling tired, lethargic and heavier ( not to mention guilty, like I’m cheating on the plan or something). So while I don’t necessarily want to eat healthier, it definitely feels like it’s doing something good to me.

    All of the SW groups I read on FB (since i’m still very new to SW I don’t have any pearls of wisdom) says that every now and then you almost need a blow-out, who knows? Sounds like you’re back on track though, and props to ya, I couldn’t ever imagine myself running for 5 miles or 10 miles…even combined over 5 years! LOL! Keep the faith m’dear, you’ve got this!

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