Now then, people. This is a tricky subject, isn’t it?
I don’t know about you, but running makes me hungry, and I mean REALLY, hungry. I can come home from doing a 5k with my friend, and what do I do? Head straight for the fridge, and eat three quarters of the contents.
It is safe to say that I have NO will power where food is concerned. Having said that, I did manage to lose a stone and a half two years ago, but that was because every time I went for a run, I felt like I was wearing a Goodyear tyre round my middle, so, it had to come off.
Many years ago, before our beloved sport was even a twinkle in my eye, I had a very heated discussion with my boss, who ran regularly. As I stuffed yet another custard cream biscuit in my mouth I argued that you could eat anything if you were a runner, and still lose weight. He said not. Part of me didn’t want to believe him because I didn’t like him anyway, and the other part was in complete denial over my food consumption. I would fight someone to the death over a Danish pastry. Naively, I stuck by my theory, only to be proved wrong. I do of course hold my hands up now and admit my mistake.
In the six months of my weight loss journey, I found it hard. But once the pounds started to shift, I discovered an inner strength I never thought possible. Yes, I could say no to a cake, and decline the offer of chips, because it meant that my runs became easier; the less weight I was carrying.
Two years on, and I still have to be sensible. Which is a pain. But I don’t want to go back to being a stone and a half heavier and repeat the weight loss process.
My love affair with food continues, but on a more moderate scale. I grill everything instead of frying it, eat more fruit, and try to use less butter, which I can confirm, is dammed hard when a jacket potato is staring you in the face, or a crumpet looks positively bare without it.
Everything in moderation, as my Nana used to say, with a few treats now and again. It would be rude, not to, right?