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Jimmegee is no longer High & Mighty

Losing my midriff

jimmegee

Thursday, 26 March 2009

Weight loss, it’s a miserable thing. I came back to the UK about five years ago a svelte 93 kg which, for my 1m92 height (yes, I don’t do Imperial, so get over it), was just right. I looked good. I pulled. I smoked. Trouble is, when I stopped smoking, having pulled rather successfully (the sweetest guy I’ll ever, ever meet who regular readers will know as The Doctor), the weight piled back on. Before I knew it, the scales were talking to me in more than two figures. I’d broken the 100 kilo barrier yet again. That was OK, right? I had moobs, so what? I was a bear. But no, me no likey being a fatty, especially having just turned 40. So I joined a-certain-global-weight-loss-programme that I’m sure many of you have guffawed at in passing with a view to addressing the 100-plus issue.

Well, you know what, guys, it frickin’ works. I’ve lost nearly a stone in ye-olde speak and those horrific jeans I had to buy from the High and Mighty store for over £100 just a couple of months ago are already in the Marie Curie charity store down the road. I’m never wearing them again. I’m sure some people are happy in their distended skin but I never have been, I’ve always wanted to be able to take my top off in a club and not have my love handles manhandled by a passing joker. In my 20s and 30s, I was always a skinny bugger and I’d like to be something akin to one again someday so I’m making an effort to eat sensibly and - more importantly - drink carefully. And I’m sorry to be dull but it’s working out. And I feel bloody brilliant.

The double chin is still decidedly double, the jeans are not exactly 34-inchers but I know I’m going slowly in the right direction and it feels good so bear with me and my God, by Pride this year, I’m going to be a sight for sore eyes. I had intended to be so for Pride 2008 but didn’t quite make it. 2009 is the year of the flat tum. Bring it on.