Sunday, 12 July 2009

The "Feckitt" Diet

The first ‘proper’ diet I ever remember going on was in the early nineties when I was all-consumed with losing enough weight to get into a size 12 wedding dress. I was working with another tall lass (I’m 5’10, she was even taller) who waxed lyrical about her Hip and Thigh weight loss and although I couldn’t ever remember her being overweight as such, she was always so damned cheerful and wore such lovely, expensive-looking outfits (she was a Solicitor, I was her Assistant) that I associated her diet plan with her overall attitude and lifestyle and went out and bought my first ever Diet book, courtesy Rosemary Conley.
Of course I lost weight but I rather think this had more to do with pre-wedding jitters and arrangement nerves than the amount of fat I wasn’t devouring in a single sitting. And I never exercised. Apart from dancing in nightclubs till the wee smalls whilst fiancé looked on silently mortified; willing me to end the madness and become a sensible wife. So the fact I was ingesting half-fat cheese (the perfect dichotomy), fat free milk (white water) and copious amounts of dry crackers (MDF) and panicking about the size of my Bonbonieri meant that my wedding dress had been taken in to a size 10 by the time the Big Day arrived. (Big Feckin’ Woo – in hindsight).
Since then I’ve sampled most diet fads going, from the Cabbage (lost more friends than weight), to the Grapefruit (stomach ended up eating itself in confusion) and the Atkins. I enjoyed this one because I love my cheese and meat and eggs and sh*t and thought that this was my ideal diet. Trouble is, because I’m more woman than man (the Atkins is promoted as the ‘Man’s Diet’ because of the fried breakfasts and cheeseburgers-without-the-bun you can readily eat in as vast a quantity as humanly possible – possibly. And I actually looked forward to breakfast - 2 fried eggs, hunk of cheese and some ham… Yummmmmm) I also have freakishly uncontrollable urges to eat whole bars of chocolate at certain times of the month and therefore negate my carb count quota for the entire day, probably week in one carb-fest of Family sized proportions. So, actually all I’m doing is topping up my carb-free count of Nil bread, Nil pasta, Nil rice and Nil potato with several sittings of chocolate-based treats. I’m still of the naive opinion that it doesn’t count if you do it standing up when there’s no one else in the room (or was that sex?). Anyway…
So… the FECKITT Diet…. Includes anything you damn well want at times your body damn well craves it. After all, Mother Nature, bless her, gave us instincts. The gut one I’ve learnt to listen to. Works every time. The intuition one I’m growing fonder of (v. similar to gut but with subtext – post to follow). Cravings are just the body’s natural way of telling you that it is desirous of something you are otherwise deficient in and you must GIVE IT TO ME NOW!!!
Worked when I was pregnant and there were all manner of important things my body was undertaking at the time – growing a child from within being the paramount one – so why should it not work for me now? Have faith in your body for it will decide what it wants and what it doesn’t. And, actually, since we’re on the subject, for the past 2 days my… um… shall we say ‘toilet habits’ have become more… um… liberal. Even after two rounds of toast and raspberry jam for breakfast – OMG how I missed sweet stuff on toast….aaahhhh…. and the way I woofed down our curried take-out last night was a sight to be believed.
Oh, and if humouring your natural instincts isn’t convincing enough, one of the last things my mother said as she lay in her hospital bed, her 4 year old granddaughter handing her some squares of Galaxy was: ‘Ooh, I shouldn’t really sweetheart I’m trying to watch my weight.’
She died that evening.
Says it all, doesn’t it?

1 comment:

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