H'exercise. Don't you just love it.

[Tarinder]

It's been far too long since I've updated my 'blob (sic), much to the big boss' chagrin, so here goes.

Summer is upon us, which means girls in skimpy outfits and fat people sweating profusely.

Ironically, I'm now one of those fat people. I stand 5-foot-8, have a slim build, and have weighed around 10-stone for most of my adult life. I kept my weight in check my balancing copious food and alcohol intake (I'm a glutton at heart) with a reasonable amount of exercise, mainly cycling.

However, working from home and parking my backside in front a screen for 8 hours a day, has taken its toll.

It's been all too easy to walk down to the kitchen and stuff my gob with all manner of bad food. This, along with a sedentary lifestyle, has the incremental effect of pushing up weight a few grams at a time, and before you know it, 32-inch waist jeans just don't fit any more.

Imagine my surprise when I jumped on a pair of scales and the needle didn't stop at 10-stone. 11-stone was left far behind, too. It finally settled at a blobtastic 12-stone; the heaviest I've been, ever, and with an official BMI of >25, making me a fatty, for real.

Scared for the state of my ticker and inevitable expense at outfitting a new wardrobe with 34- to 36-inch jeans, I dusted down my old bike, which had once taken my from Oxford to Birmingham in 3hours 45minutes, and rode out to the local windmill, around 5 miles away. It was the first time back on the road for 3 years.

I used to average around 19mph on a 50-mile ride, folks, but the tires seemed glued to the asphalt, with each pedal turn excruciating effort. Through a pig-headed will and extremely heavy breathing, I reached the Chesterton windmill in 25 minutes, barely able to stand and shaking furiously from the effort.

The way back was even harder, pushing into a wind that felt like a gale but ,in reality, was barely perceptible. Getting back home 20 minutes later, buttocks burning and heart on fire, I wondered how I'd let myself go so much.

I've decided that life's not fair. There's simply too much enticement from the range of sweet foods and snacks that line supermarket shelves. Exercise is a pain in the butt, literally, but I'm forcing myself to continue, as much out of embarrassment for my present state of fitness than anything else.

I'm cutting out alcohol (well, cutting down), eating more green poo, and pushing the pedals for the next month. But ....... it's so damn hard.

[Tobeman]

I went out shopping yesterday for new clothes for holiday, spent a fortune, but had to get the next trouser size up and medium shirts that are long-ish and cover my arse are pretty tight around that area now

What irritates me is that I've spent a fortune on all these clothes, I'm going away twice this month, and by the time I've come back I will have sweated all the flob off of me and all the new clothes will be too big - it happens every year

I feel your pain.

[merlin2001]

just a warning, if you see gillian mckeith hanging around outside your house - bolt up all the doors and lock all the windows!

[Tobeman]

Originally Posted by merlin2001

just a warning, if you see gillian mckeith hanging around outside your house - bolt up all the doors and lock all the windows!

Don't leave exrement lying around either