Thursday marked cooler Autumn weather with the addition of a tee shirt layer beneath the customary short sleeved shirt, under a waffle-look long sleeved shirt to complete the commute to Brisbane.
All day I was self conscious of how less than a millimetres’ extra fabric all around made the shirt feel tight and gaped more than usual.
I inherited the fat genes from the maternal side of my family. They are a well built, big boned, stout, jolly, portly lot.
In my early twenties, I managed to work off ‘puppy fat’ through physical work and a relatively carb free diet. This successful combination was repeated in my thirties and forties supplemented by guilt induced gym membership. Dr Moseley’s fasting diet and GP prescribed slimming pills resolved the middle age spread yo-yo during my fifties.
A sedentary job, inherent laziness, and osteoarthritis have curbed my motivation for gym training and long walks as I enter the sixties.
During Thursday night’s interrupted sleep, I had a nightmare about my ever increasing girth and the need for dieting. I find it amusing, I can cradle my belly during slumber whilst realising the action during the dream.
Smaller portions was the revelation from the insight into my subconscious. Plates to be no larger than fit for a dessert. It makes sense, my mind doesn’t seem to recognise my appetite as sated until about ten minutes after finishing. I eat everything served to me as instilled in childhood.
Upon waking on Friday, I was inspired to start on the fifth of May.
As the Noom app has escaped clean-up deletions on my mobile phone, I duly entered a piccolo latte followed by tuna in water with mixed veggies for breakfast and another piccolo for mid morning snack.
Whilst working from home, I received an email from my boss about my performance thus far against KPIs for the financial year ending 30 June.
I experienced symptoms of tightness in my chest and throat just by looking at the subject line in the Outlook list. It prompted a Google search resulting in a potential panic attack turning out to be indigestion. It was resolved with a slug of Gaviscon.
Lunch consisted of left over curry sauce, tuna, mixed veggies, and a piccolo latte.
A cocktail, Kalamata olives, and roasted almonds on the terrace left me with 240 kcals for homemade pizza coleslaw and wine for dinner.
We took a rain check on the pizza until this evening substituting it with home delivery nachos and quesadias.
C’est la vie, I will see how I fare today.