Dear Dave

  Another reason to walk

Dear Dave,

We don't have a car. We live in the middle of a city and don't like driving, so there's no point really. The closest guaranteed parking space to most places we want to go is our own driveway. We might get soaked walking to the sports centre if it's raining but when we get there, we've had enough exercise to allow us to turn around and come straight home - thus saving both time and money. We can also look annoyingly smug on any occasion someone starts talking about carbon footprints.

Not having a car does reduce out shopping options, however. When buying groceries, I like to go in person to squeeze the produce and spot the weekly bargains. Whenever I've tried ordering food online, I've found it time-consuming, frustrating and strangely unsatisfactory. This means that, without a car, I'm limited to a selection of small, local supermarkets. They stock everything we could possibly need but their merchandise isn't hugely varied. Pasta comes in three shapes, two sizes of packet and one colour. The main choice involved with fish is whether it's coated in batter or breadcrumbs. Pears are available in two varieties - 'Take It' or 'Leave It'.

That said, having grown up on a diet of the sort of dubious stew reserved for those families with a cattle herd and a desire to cut down on veterinary bills, I'm not too fussed. Besides, even after fifteen years of living in town, having any shops at all within walking distance is still something of a novelty.

I did have a glimpse of how much more is possible the other day, though. Since the school holidays have been dragging on a while now, I made an effort to get the kids out of the house. I decided we'd go for a long hike and investigate the huge superstore that lies just beyond the normal reaches of our travels.

The children weren't thrilled at the prospect, complaining for most of the way. It was too hot and too far. Why were we going anyway? Where was it? What did we need? Why couldn't I go on my own once Mummy was home? What was...?

All at once the whining stopped. It was a long time since we'd been and, as we entered, we were transfixed. It wasn't merely huge, it was enormous - a veritable cathedral of consumerism. The aisles were so long that the curvature of the Earth meant we couldn't see the far ends. Every inch was crammed with brightly coloured packets of tastiness. There were 503 types of pasta and I couldn't find the pears amongst all the tubs of fruits so exotic that I didn't know their names.

There was choice beyond the bounds of my imagination.

Oh, and as an added bonus, every so often the stacks of delicious treats were interrupted by a shelf of toys or electronics.

We wanted to buy everything. It was like we'd peeked from behind the Iron Curtain and found ourselves staring into the window of McDonald's. Ronald himself was beckoning to us, holding out a heaped tray of Big Macs and the biggest cup of fizzy nectar we'd ever seen...

I couldn't help wishing the store was closer to home or perhaps even that we had a car. Then I could have stocked up any time on any number of delicacies from jellied Bolivian fruit bats to spiced Malaysian crab bites. My eyes glazed over and I stumbled forward like a zombie, mesmerised by the bounty laid before me.

Then I stopped. For some reason, I wasn't going anywhere. I looked down. My basket was already too full to lift. The kids had taken advantage of my distraction to pile the thing high with sweets, chocolate biscuits and small, plastic effigies of Dora the Explorer.

I was suddenly very glad we don't have a car. I've always thought that the maintenance costs and lack of exercise would make me poor and fat. I was wrong. It's the amount of luxury shopping we could fit in the boot that would do it. Witnessing the basket at my feet made me see the truth of that. I didn't dare think what value of fattening foodstuffs we could have packed into a trolley and then stuffed into the back of a people carrier.

I forced the children to return all their finds to the shelves and we settled on a single bag of pear-flavoured spaghetti (in breadcrumbs) as a souvenir of our trip. Then we walked home.

It rained...

...but I didn't get wet. The water merely evaporated the moment it touched my happy, righteous glow...

Yours in a woman's world,

Ed.

Labels: diet, stuff

 
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10:00 PM - Permanent Link - 2 comments - Post comment - Links to this post

  I can make you thinner

Dear Dave,

It's that time again.

I've locked away the biscuits, put the crisps out of reach and stopped buying chocolate.

Yep, my belly's going to pot and I need to act now. I've reached that age. The age where I can no longer just shovel any old lump of sugar-coated deep-fried lard into my mouth and hope to get away with it. I need to resist the siren call of the chocolate digestives. I wouldn't be the first man I know to wake up one morning only to discover they were fat and bald.

Having said that, I'm actually quite looking forward to the going bald bit. Obviously there will be some initial comb-over uncertainty. Is it there or isn't it? Then enough will fall out, the trauma will pass and I'll shave off what's left. I'll be able to buy some funky hats. No more shampoo and conditioner each morning - just a quick polish and I'll be away. I could even grow a beard and pretend my head's on upside down.

Yes, bald I can live with. Fat, not really. It's not so much my overall weight it's just the feeling that I'm developing jowls that might quickly grow and merge to become a third chin. It's not worth thinking about. You may even not be thinking about it. You're probably munching away on some deep-fried sugar-enhanced lard as you read this, secure in the knowledge that you're that little bit younger than me. Still, I'm going to give you my top tips for not turning into the dad from Family Guy anyway. One day you will thank me - the day you wake up merely bald.

Essentially, the secret to losing weight is to eat less and exercise more. It's not much of a secret really - it's startlingly obvious. Unfortunately, it's also not much fun. If anyone else reckons they have a better secret, however, then chances are that it's expensive, nonsense or bad for you in the long term. It may even be all three.

I don't know about you, but I'm running round the place constantly already. I don't have time or energy to exercise more. This only leaves eating less.

I can't be bothered to count calories. My theory is to eat the same food as always at meals but have smaller portions, while cutting out the biscuits, chocolate and cake inbetween. (Actually, it's Sarah's theory but it's a good one so I'm stealing it). The major downside to this theory is feeling a bit hungry most of the time. I can't imagine it's possible to lose weight without feeling hungry most of the time, though. Drat.

Cutting out lots of things entirely is much easier to monitor than allowing yourself a little bit of everything. Don't cut out all the treats, however. I know from experience that this just isn't sustainable. Going cold-turkey on chocolate, biscuits, crisps, cake, Sam's left-over sandwiches, doughnuts AND beer at the same time is too much to ask of your body and sanity. Keep something to look forward to. (Hint: Beer). By the way, it's worth cutting out the left-overs even if you're not trying to control your weight. Sam's two-and-a-half. What are the chances of him not having a stomach bug or a minor cold? Anything he's touched or breathed on is a potential biohazard. Incinerate those sandwiches and bury the remains.

Don't go crazy on the dieting. Eating nothing but watermelon for a month is all very well but it's not going to help maintain your new weight once you get there. I know I'd spend the entire month dreaming of the big binge I could have once it was over. Eating the same but a little healthier and a little less is the way to go. It's slow, though. (But even minimal exercise to give some semblance of muscle tone to my sagging stomach can make it look like things are progressing faster).

Oh, and don't drink coffee as a distraction from feeling hungry. That never goes well...

There are, of course, other ways to lose weight. The most effective in my experience is to catch chickenpox. I lost a stone in ten days by that method a couple of years ago. This is, however, a one-shot deal and has the unfortunate side-effect of causing you to shed scabs for a couple of weeks afterwards. The extra hoovering involved is a definite disincentive.

Another alternative is to not sleep. Once the new baby arrives this will almost certainly be your default method for keeping your jeans loose. The extra calories you'll need to stay awake all night will mean you'll be able to eat a steady diet of Mars bars, cake and Sugar Puffs without piling on the pounds. The poor nutrition won't be awfully good for your general health but you'll be too busy hallucinating to care.

Make the most of it.

Yours in a woman's world,

Ed.

Labels: diet, housedad (vol.1)

 
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9:30 AM - Permanent Link - 2 comments - Post comment - Links to this post