A Walk in the Park

I bumped into Max last week, which reminded me I haven't posted for a while. I have to say I miss him. His sense of humour always brightens the day. I was attending a series of 'training clinics' aimed at the newly diabetic. 

What can I say about them? A lot of it was truly numpty. I know all about how diabetes works. In fact, more than the nurse did, as she confidently told everyone that glucose was absorbed from the stomach. Er, no, the only things absorbed from the stomach are pretty much aspirin and alcohol. Anyway, I kept stumm, as I could see the others in the room really did need it dumbed down that much. One chap quit, saying he didn't want to learn how to be a doctor. Sigh. Trust me, there's no danger of that here.


Then it got more interesting, as they started to tell me things I didn't know - about insulin types and different GIs, which is unfortunately, nothing to do with muscled Americans in khaki uniforms. GI stands for Glycemic Index, a measure of how fast the sugar from foods gets into your blood stream. I had no idea that French bread (high GI) was a death trap compared to ice-cream (low GI). I went straight home and ate three bowls of mint choc-chip.


Finally, we got to watch a video about a bloater called George, who fails to starve himself into being slim. Then he takes up basket ball and suddenly all the fat goes away. Give me strength. OK, maybe I shouldn't speak so harshly of George. I just wish the condescending signs telling me to 'walk instead of taking the lift' were not based on fantasy. 


I saw an ad on the back of a bus recently. It said 
"Lose your spare tyre? It's a walk in the park!" 
No it [insert swear word of choice] isn't! Really, health advice should have some sort of basis in reality. Politicians lie. The medical profession shouldn't. If I could lose my spare tyre by walking in the park, I should have the figure of Naomi Campbell by now. Instead, all I have is her temper when I try to cut down on food. Maybe if she ate a bit more, she'd be less aggressive too.


So I went to see yet another dietitian, who went through the 'so you think you're different' spiel. No, I think I know myself by now, and all the problems I have do occur in other people too. I just seem to have difficulty overcoming them. She suggested eating less and doing more aerobic stuff. Surprise!


My main problems are a) I forget to count what I'm eating. I never weigh things. I'm busy. This is not an excuse. It is a fact.
b) If I don't eat enough, I scream at people. This is not fair on my family and deleterious to my career. Again, this is not an excuse. It is a fact.
c) I eat on the run most of the time. It is spooned into me in between fetching the kids from after-school clubs and going for a swim. It isn't something I spend a lot of time deliberating about. It isn't enough of a priority for me, despite being something I worry about constantly. This needs to change before anything will work. 


If you took me away from my current life, tucked me up in a health spa and took away all the stress that triggers the screaming-during-hunger outbursts, then I am sure I would lose weight just like anyone else.