Friday, 13 October 2017

Some good food news

Five days after that unwise food and drink consumption of mine, and my tummy is at last beginning to settle down. That's the longest period of constant indigestion that I can remember. Yesterday I consulted a pharmacist and came away with some Wind-Eze tablets - that's a preparation based on simeticone, which apparently stops the gases in the stomach from foaming too much. Larger bubbles are easier to cope with, it seems, and easier to eject from whichever end of the gut best serves. Well, it did quieten the gurglings, and bring me much relief. Mind you, by now most of the volatile brew that had been swashing around inside me must have passed through, and by the end of the coming weekend I would have been OK.

That said, this is a lesson to take to heart. My digestive tract is clearly not as super-capable as it once was. Henceforth, I will give it extra TLC. That includes avoiding very acidic foods, and going particularly easy on alcohol. So one large glass of wine will be my normal daily limit, and I won't be accepting drinks that I haven't a well-established tolerance for. Pernod? Non, merci!

I don't want a repeat of the last five days. I had plans for doing so much! But, feeling off-colour and bloated, I did little - and time was wasted. One week from today, I must begin preparations for my next caravan jaunt. I will now have to compress two weeks' work into one.

But there is always a silver lining. Having ate less overall this week, it's no surprise that my weight-loss regime got a boost. I made the effort to attend the local Slimming World group meeting yesterday evening, having a hunch that I might well have lost enough weight to gain another certificate. And I was right. I got my 'Two and a half stones lost' certificate! Here is is:

I couldn't help jumping with delight. My ultimate target weight is now only half a stone away. And I so much covet that 'Three stones lost' certificate! When I hit my target weight, I will at last have a BMI slightly less than 25, and the pleasure of having a 'Normal' and not 'Obese' weight. Yes, I know it wouldn't matter much, in a strict clinical sense, if my BMI were 25.2 or whatever; but psychologically it will be a big achievement. 

And having lost three stones - 42 pounds, or 19.1kg - my actual weight will be 11 stones 12 pounds - or 166 pounds, or 75.3kg. I'll still be no lightweight. But I will be satisfyingly more slender than a year ago. You know, slender like a graceful gazelle. Or at least a thin elephant. 

The next aim after getting that weight off will be improved fitness. I run out of puff too quickly. 

Quite what to do about this is a problem. For instance, buying a bike to pedal furiously is absolutely out of the question. I learned to ride a bike only when thirty, never having ridden when a child. In my brief period of early-1980s bike-ownership, I discovered that I had serious balancing problems. Indeed, I wobbled far too much for safety, and I fell off regularly. Not good in London traffic. This led to wounds and pain, and a conviction that, for me, cycling on a traffic-frequented road was playing Russian Roulette with my life. 

The roads may be a bit quieter in rural Sussex, but not by much nowadays, and there is the issue of where to ride to. Cycling must have a point, or it becomes a bore. Having lived in my locality since 1996, I know all the nearby roads and places to go. There is no possibility of discovering new things on two wheels. 

I also have a horror of being a nuisance. Cyclists hold up the traffic, and I would be one of the worst offenders. I would be cursed and reviled and muttered at. Enraged drivers would entertain dark thoughts about me, involving my sudden death. I would be scared by drivers skimming past on narrow sections of road, and quite possibly so disconcerted that I'd wobble into a ditch. Or wobble into the middle of the road, and that would be the end of me. Even if I managed to survive indefinitely, it's difficult to see how a ride could ever be something to enjoy. 

So my bid for fitness will have to involve some other kind of activity. Not sport. I have never in my entire life found sport even remotely interesting. I am co-operative, not competitive. Nor do I fancy belonging to a club. Slimming World and the pilates class are my extreme limits for group membership. 

I think my best bet is to set myself some photographic goals that involve some significant walking exercise. A plan to visit (and photograph) various hilltop monuments and memorials, or OS trig points, or old abandoned canal locks, or ancient standing stones and barrows and burial chambers: something like that. I'll give it my best thought, and make a start next spring.

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