Weighing in at 60

I’m by no stretch of anyone’s imagination a Poppy Ntshongoana where body build is involved. When it comes to being happy with ones body however, I’m chuffed. Stoked nogal!

Once upon what seems like always, I was a weight-loss junkie. I bought into all sorts of products that sold me the skinny dream. No name concoctions from unsavoury pharmacists; herbal what not’s & teas. Cipla Trim tablets that had me buzzing sleeplessly for months… till I learnt that guzzling Southern Comfort as though it were a 2l coke, could counter act the sleeplessness effect of the now banned appetite suppressant.

My hazardous lifestyle reached the beginning of it’s end when one day I didn’t show up for work & no one could account for me. Despite my then frequent bunking antics, something about my absence was amiss. Thank heavens my colleagues gave enough of a damn to come around to my house & check.

What they found was a semi-conscious me, who’d bothered to unlock the door somewhere inbetween taking a shower; draping myself in a towel & blacking out. I was promptly rushed to a doctor who profusely warned me about my beloved pills.

Did I stop taking them?

No.

I was convinced that adopting a more sporadic approach to my dosage was a lesser thus safer dose than religiously twice a day.

Was I even losing any weight to begin with?

Nope, but the pill popping prevailed. 

BEFORE

Till one day I miraculously discovered starving.

I’d forgotten to eat & no appetite came round knocking on my stomach insisting I feed myself. 3 food free days later, I was on cloud 9 beaming with pride at the skinny future that lay ahead.

Yet again this fantasy “quick fix” was shattered by loving friends who saw to it that I was always in the company of someone & anyone. Turns out that I don’t know how not to eat, when surrounded by people who are eating. What a pity & life saver all at the same time.

I hadn’t been at the starving thing long enough for any weight to shed, but at least I learnt the truth about exactly how tiny my stomach is. What with my eating habits still being a very touchy topic, I make a kick ass poster child for health (Liver & lungs aside). There’s truthfully no crime in eating 1 meal a day; just don’t blame it on me if shit hits the fan… Better yet, stick to what works for you!

What works for me is Living Life!

Uninhibitedly dancing the night away; Passionate weekends of endless (protected) sex; Long purposeful walks to destinations that are truly too short to be driven to. Add a splash of play into that mix, et voila!

That’s the wholesome; heartfelt & failproof work out regime that works for me.

So what if my trunk won’t ever fit into size 28 jeans? I’m 10 K’s lighter & LOVING IT!

                                                                                                                          AFTER