|
I would prowl around the flat like
a caged tiger, opening cupboards and drawers wondering where I might
have hidden some goodies from myself.
I had forgotten to hide anything. There was nothing to nibble. So I
would get myself a cup of herb tea and go to bed . I might walk in my
sleep, talk in my sleep but I had yet to eat in my sleep.
Then one day at the office, staring me right
in the eye, was a whole box of chocolates, part of somebody’s birthday
celebration. “Eat me,” it seemed to say. “I dare you.” I stared right
back and said, “Dream on.” Newly strengthened, despite the appetising
smell, I went back to my desk and carried on working.
I had made a discovery. Smelling food seemed
to satisfy the craving. All I had to do was take a deep whiff. I wasn’t
hungry, I didn’t crave, I didn’t “steal”, I didn’t need a treat. I could
do it!
9 st 4lb, alcohol units 1, calories 1200
Six weeks later: a high point. I had lost a
whole stone. Halfway towards my two-stone goal.
Still puffing, panting and clock-watching
in the gym, though. There was nothing I didn’t hate: rowing machine,
cycle, treadmill, weight-lifting machines. All were torture. I cut
short the time given to me by the trainer, but only by a few minutes.
Oddly, I never felt stiff afterwards, but never seemed to improve
either.
In the pool it was a different story.
Taskmaster Julie shouted, “Go girl, go! Hold that tummy in, stretch
those arms, push the water.”
Work. That’s what it was all about. I
certainly looked the part with my red swimming cap and mirrored goggles.
Julie said it was OK to look like a frog in the water. Did she mean my
get-up or my breast stroke?
I was certainly staying buoyant. It had
taken me fifty years, but finally I conquered my fear of water. In the
process I was losing weight. One achievement had led to another…
What next?
Next month: Sarah makes a new discovery
Previous articles:
My journey to fitness -
No.1.
SARAH FRANKEL... Born in New
Zealand, Sarah now resides in the UK.
Since the late 1980’s Sarah has been writing poetry, short stories
letters a quasi-humorous diary of the first Gulf War as seen through the
eyes of a woman and mother dealing with day-to-day difficulties under
the onslaught of missile attacks.
Over the next few years Sarah continued writing for pleasure whilst
working full time and studying part time. After reading her assignments
on scenarios of a future world, her university professor advised that
she was in the wrong profession and should write.
After graduating with an MBA, Sarah won first prize in an amateur
writing contest. She took early retirement and has now begun writing
professionally.
|
My
journey to fitness 
