Tackling the Blubber!
Summer is here and
with it the humiliation of trying on clothes from last year but this morning I saw #FATrophy trending on Twitter so thought The Mary should go for it!
Turns out it's to do with football and not an actual trophy for getting fat.
Do you hear that Guy?
After a lovely day
in the garden I hopped into the shower before skipping to the wardrobe only to
end up nearly jumping out of my expanded skin when faced with a room covered in
white, bleached, cotton shirts which no longer covered my mid-life, midriff!
You see, my entire
collection of apparel consists of black polos in the winter and white shirts in
the summer; except for the odd occasion when I wear a dress or have a ‘formal’
then that’s about it. Lacklustre I know,
but I try to make up for it with the odd bit of sparkle and great hair. I live
and hope my fondness for accessories will make up for my lack of imagination on
the clothes front.
The bible states;
“The generous will themselves be blessed, for
they share their food with the poor“
Proverbs 22:9
Well,
I’ll tell you this, I would have been sanctified if I’d shared even half my
food with the deprived and not had such an excessive desire to stuff my mug. Had I placed my fervour and commitment towards helping others or even rocked
up to the repellent gym, instead of filling my belly, I might not be in this shirty
predicament.
Nevertheless,
here I am, shirtless and might have to stay indoors for my fear of shopping and
dislike of internet surfing!
This jam
has made me realise; I’m usually eating, talking, or writing about food. It’s
become an obsession and things have to change.
So, this
blog is about tackling the blubber and I don’t mean all the crying I’ve done over
split shirts but the actual, fat, pudgy, white, dimpled flesh I’m witnessing
hanging around my ego. I have absolutely no clue what I weight though.
I might invest
in one of those high tech, torture, weighing, gestapo contraptions. I judge the shape I'm in on a short, sharp, shirt fit!
When I
went to pick up The Mary on our way to Guy's in Merchant City the first thing she said was;
“I feel like a fat Bastard and my jeans are
hurting my Baker’s cyst.”
FFS!
We cannae even have an ailment that doesn’t involve food!
We cannae even have an ailment that doesn’t involve food!
We
decided, over a main course portion of pasta with meaty ragu and garlic bread
that we need to do something about it. After plodding on through the main course and dessert we hadn’t decided on what route to take.
Suggestions were; we might go for a walk, but her knee is too sore. We also considered swimming but I’m getting physio for a shoulder injury and have become more dependent on my legs for keeping lively.
Suggestions were; we might go for a walk, but her knee is too sore. We also considered swimming but I’m getting physio for a shoulder injury and have become more dependent on my legs for keeping lively.
I
injured my shoulder when walking me wee bitch Cicca who was too speedy for me and
pulled my humeral head out of its glenoid right about where my clavicle meets the
acromion of the scapula.
She’s 77 in dog years and still managed to pull me off my feet.
After a
pregnant pause (well two fat belly breaks) we decided to, maybe, change the way
we eat. The Mary suggested we use chopsticks as she’s no very good with them
and that might slow us down but I’ve got Raynaud’s and my thumbs aren’t what
they used to be.
We had
another wee think about it over dessert and came up with a plan!
My Guy
pal was talking about a thing called ‘Walking Football’ aimed at the ‘overs’ and we got very excited. The Mary laughed, reminding me of the fact I cannae run because I tend to pee
myself with excitement, but that’s only when someone's chasing me.
The walky ball game outlaws running so pishing myself would not be an issue and with no physical contact allowed between players, we’re hee hawing to the pitch.
The walky ball game outlaws running so pishing myself would not be an issue and with no physical contact allowed between players, we’re hee hawing to the pitch.
One
problem we have is though you need 5 or six people on each side and there’s only the
two of us so, for the next couple of weeks, we’ll meet for scran, make plans and to
try to find the other 10 victims to introduce to the sport.
It sounds dead easy walking around and
kicking a ball. Bit like golf with a bigger ball and no cue!
If
anyone has any suggestions for two Fat Burds with bony ailments and bladder prolapse then feel free
to leave a comment!
See you
next time!
Me and
The Mary!
Mx
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