Let's add yet another weight loss blog post to the Internet!

I've always had problems with weight loss.  I had it cracked a while back, when I was working in a 4 man support team and got a lot of exercise walking from building to building.  Admittedly having a dirt cheap company gym helped.  I remember most of my struggles, though.

It probably started in middle school.  I went from being a skinny, sickly kid to a pretty vastly overweight one.  I think the worst of it was at around 16 when I hit 16 stone.  Health reasons aside, being the fat kid in high school isn't really great for your self esteem, but whatever.  I think I maintained this for a few years but I'm not sure, I've always had the ability to completely block out things that might distress me, so I guess I just didn't pay any attention to my weight until I was... 21?  Yeah.

The big day was coming and I was offered a sky diving experience by my mum who, until then, was sure I was afraid of heights.  This was based on a bad experience on a large slide in Nottingham.  In reality I didn't care at all, agreed to it and probably removed a good 5 year's from my mum's life for which I apologise.  She is morbidly afraid of heights.  Her and my dad burned through all the camera exposures before my chute even deployed.

But I digress.

One of the requirements was that I needed to be below 200lbs.  14 stone 4.  Don't ask me for kilos.  I spent a few months exercising, building up from 2 sessions a week to 3.  That seemed to do the trick, but I did have kind of a physical job which no doubt helped and I reached my goal with time to spare.  One of the best things I've ever done.

I put some weight back on during my last year of university (I think better when I eat.  Always have, it reduces my mental fatigue and improves my attention span).  I graduated, got my degree and settled into a nice, easy 3 months of unemployment.  I looked for jobs, attended interviews and played Team Fortress 2.  However, my dad transferred his gym membership over to me, so with nothing else to do with my day I'd spend a happy hour and a half every other day working out.  It was the most structured, organised fitness regime I've ever adhered to and motivation wasn't a problem, I was unemployed, apart from going for a 5 minute trip to the dole office I really had nothing better to do than mail out CVs.

I don't know how much I lost.  I reached 13 stone 10 (186lbs, I guess) and for the first time in my own memory I was starting to become happy with how I looked.  Sappy, ain't it?

I got a job, moved out and started to live alone.  Again, wonderful experience and I learned a lot, but I wasn't managing my meals well (I found out what 6 months of not eating fibre is like.  Protip: don't ever attempt this) and I was working overtime at a desk job.  I was under the impression that I didn't have time for the gym, seeing as I was working from 9 'til sometimes half 6.  I'd go home, cook, surf the Internet for 2 or 3 hours and sleep.  Not surprisingly, I gained about 2.5 stone up to 16'6.

So I guess that's where I was at the start of this year.  I dabbled with a gym after work but couldn't really commit.  I made too many excuses to not go, I think.  However, somehow I've managed to convince a wonderful woman to actually marry me and now the wedding plans are actually beginning so I think, like sky diving, I've got a decent goal in mind.  I need to be able to wear a suit without looking like some kind of bearded penguin.

Plus the palpitations at night were getting to be kind of a drag.

It's strange though, 7 weeks later and I'm still feeling good about slimming down.  It's not often that I can commit to a diet for this long and still feel good about it.  Much as I hate to admit it (I prefer to think I can do these things on willpower alone), a tangible goal does seem to have lit a very welcome fire under my arse.

Started this year at, I think, 105 kilos.  I've realised since that my scales do lbs and they do kilos, but the lbs are measures out wrong.  I'm now, 8 weeks into the year, down by 6 kilos.  Not fantastically fast loss but it doesn't need to be, just so long as it stays off.

I spent a bit of time today looking up weight loss inspiration and came to the conclusion that what other people use for inspiration is a bit too pink and fluffy for me.  I don't want to join a club that'll support me, I don't need to see pictures of artistically arranged aubergines (alliteration's awesome, aye?) and I really don't need motivational pictures assuring me that I can do it.  I can, yes.  Part of the problem is that I ususally, for whatever reason, resist that kind of encouragement.  I can motivate myself, but unless I'm feeling genuinely defeated, hearing other people trying to encourage me sometimes feels really patronising and I do realise that this is a terrible approach, especially when people are being genuinely supportive, but it's not a deliberate thing.

Although if people wanna tell me I look fabulous today then that's fine, because fabulous is a great word and we should all say it more often.

I'm keeping an eye on the scales every morning.  I know people say you shouldn't, but I like to make sure that I'm not slipping and I like to consider the day a success if I've at least maintained.

So a weight loss blog?  It's not original, that's for sure, but if I do somehow succeed then it'd be nice to look back some day, see how well I did, how I did it and such.  If it helps anyone else then sure, that's great.  And I mean that with no hint of sarcasm.  However, if I do lose weight, it's going to be for me and my partner, not for anybody else.  Unless I do some kind of sponsored slim.

No goals in particular.  Once I'm happy with how I look, I'll take it easier on the diet but keep up the exercise, I think.  Seems sensible.

I'll post sometime later, perhaps.  Fridays might be good.  Silly things, the exercise I'm doing, foods I'm eating, motivational stuff that I've got going on... y'know, that fluffy encouragement stuff that I've said I don't like.

I never said I wasn't a hypocrite.  Hopefully I can at least be a skinny hypocrite.