Flab

I have an abundance of this at the moment.  I have just had a baby but it is distressing carrying this excess weight about and I am uncomfortable with it.  Its a shame really that it should bother me at all but in today's "airbrushed" society you feel more of a pressure to look like Angelina Jolie whereas I am more on a par with Susan Boyle.....

I am also underwhelmed with this larger picture frame I have acquired for my face.  I call it a picture frame but I vaguely recall it being  referred to as a double chin in the fashion mags.

I don't own scales as I feel they are psychologically damaging.  And I never get how if you put them on carpet you weigh more but if you put them on a hard floor you weigh less.  I have spent hours wandering around the house finding the best position  where I weigh the least and pinpointing that place for future "weigh ins"  Even if it meant out in the back garden behind the rockery.  Surely weight is weight is weight?  How the bloody hell does a hard kitchen floor make you weigh 3 pounds less?   So, I have abandoned the scales and measure how well I am doing in the weight loss department by the size of  picture frame for face or  how loose my jeans are.

I exercise frequently.  I swim 3 miles a week.  And I cycle 6 miles a day.   Its addictive and one becomes obsessive.  I feel tetchy if I have to miss a day.  When I was at my weightiest I couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without having a sit down and a fag half way up and now I get tetchy if I cant cycle 6 miles a day.....who'da thought it.....

 I recently invested in a new swimsuit.  Chlorine resistant, otherwise the arse falls out as the chlorine eats away at the fabric.  I bought the swimsuit in the size I wanted to be in my head.  There's a lot of "give"  in swimsuits so I thought that if was a bit too small it would stretch to accommodate and eventually it will fit once the flab has retreated.    I did think that it was a little tight over the hips when I tried it on AT THE POOL for the first time...I persevered and dragged it up the rest of my body, huffing and puffing  until it was finally on.   Looking down at myself I could tell  I looked the biz.  I strutted proudly to the pool  thinking Sharon Davies had nothing on me.  I swam my lengths.  Exiting the pool like Ursula Andress  of James Bond fame I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.   My bloody stomach was now hanging out of the back of the costume just under my arms.......the costume was so tight at the front my stomach had no where to go but out the back.....I looked like one of those mincing machines that squeezes meat out. It was horrific.

 That is why I don't want flab ......Its not cool and its certainly  not pretty.  It simply has no place in society.  It is a menace.   I for one am tired of kicking my stomach along in front of me.....it makes my ankles ache.