Does this mean I have to DIET?

I’ve been putting off this post for a lonnnng time – but it’s time to grasp the nettle and do it!

I must apply myself – and it’s not a happy situation (posed by model)

From that first shoot of pain after I hit the floor, from the moment I saw the clear break on the X-ray, I knew I faced losing a vital coping strategy – exercise.

Not least in my war against weight.

I like that satisfying feeling of sore muscles as I relax in the evening after a work-out.

I have bad memories of going-on-a-diet

I like knowing how rock-hard my muscles are – whether that’s looking at my sharply-defined calves in a mirror or even running my hands down my thighs.

I like that clarity of mind – and even the “high” that running gives me.

I like that sense of achievement and satisfaction gained from exercise.

Couch potato status beckons (posed by model)

And – arguably, most of all – I love the fact that it means I don’t have to religiously watch what I eat.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not what would be described as overweight – my BMI is about 24 and I don’t even own a set of bathroom scales.

You’ve gathered I’m a driven person – I’m certainly not a coach potato.

Nice, comfy slippers for my new lifestyle?

Yet Failure is inviting me – it’s like a big, soft, cushy armchair, calling my big, soft, flabby body (so it seems) to settle down.

I’ll freely admit that my eating regime is not meticulously healthy – but then exercise has always been my “get out of jail” card.

Just think – I used to avoid a flabby midriff by doing the “plank” – but now I can’t because that puts weight on my foot too.

The plank used to take care of my abs – now I can’t do it

Now it seems I must apply myself to disciplined eating – and it’s not a happy situation.

Of course I’m familiar with the regime of “eating sensibly” – and, believe it or not, when I was a member of Weight Watchers that regime was very welcome (and successful!) indeed, not least because it caters for those of us who live in the real world.

Navel gazing; Obsessing over my bikini bridge belongs in the past!

So, wanting to get an angle on reality, I approached the cook at my local pub –  she’s lost a couple of stone with Slimming World – and she put me in touch with her leader.

Paula, who runs the Slimming World group at Abbey Hulton, Stoke-on-Trent, told me; “I’ve got some members who can’t exercise – and they’re still losing weight every week.

“One lady broke her leg last year, she put on weight with comfort-eating, but she’s lost two stone so far.

I know! I know!

“It can be frustrating sometimes if you can’t exercise, but if you get the food on plan you’ll lose weight for sure.”

She did, however, go on to say: “I think that once members have reached Target, the ones who maintain it tend to be active”.

I cannot fault all this – in fact I applaud it.

It is just I have what can best be described as a “hang-up” about dieting.

Doesn’t a picture like this just make you want to scream?!

Without going into gender politics, the psychological aspect bugs me.

Dieting is part of female life, so it seems.

I remember my mother preparing what she happily described as a “skinn-ee lay-dee” salad for herself.

From my teenage years I was acutely aware that the “naughtiness” of eating something that tastes good can give me the type of body I detest.

And now, of course, it’s time to grow up.

Nine weeks since the break and – instead of calories – I’m counting down the weeks ’til I can run again.