I’m Finally In Control

By | November 20, 2018

[unable to retrieve full-text content]

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Monday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading! “Aren’t you tall!” they cooed, and they were right. I was tall at six foot five. “And aren’t you skinny!” they chorused, but they were both right and wrong; only parts of me were skinny, others were not. Skinny arms with pencil thin wrists and skinny legs with non-existent calves were all stuck onto a torso that—in direct contrast—was well rounded. Not massive, of course, though my elder brother oft compared me to Mr Potato Head, but enough for me to have a bulging gut, love handles (or should it be handfuls!) and a chest devoid of muscle yet plump with fat. “It isn’t fair!” I frequently told myself, staring mournfully into the mirror, and it wasn’t! For ten years, as one of the million UK commuters to London, I would rise early; breakfast on toast, cycle to the train station (six miles) walk/run/stagger from the other end of the line to work and slump exhausted in my chair where cheap instant coffee would keep the twin pangs of hunger and fatigue at bay until the midday refuel. Oh, hang on, I would snack frequently…on cheap rainbow coloured heartburn tablets in futile attempts to ease the daily bouts of heartburn. Lunch would be one of those meal replacement shakes or couscous, followed by a session at the gym, more work followed by my jaunt home. Prior to getting back to the house I would collect my children from an after-school club and scold and chide their slow walking pace home simply because I was absolutely ravenous— desperate even, for some food. On some days, I would leave the children stumbling in my wake to dash across the threshold and dive into the cupboard to cram some toast, cheese or both down my throat. “I should be as skinny as a rake!” I would tell my glum faced reflection. He would nod in agreement, patches of wobbly fat shaking slightly as he did so. “Calories in – calories out,” they told me, so I bought smaller plates and began restricting calories to starvation levels. My wife joined me in solidarity and together we punished ourselves for 30 long days with tiny bowls of risotto, meagre portions of pasta and more high sugar, low calorie milkshakes (skimmed milk of course!). We gave up in unison, neither of us having lost any weight. “No Pain, No Gain” they told me, so I upped my exercise. Mind you, I had always been fairly fit; cycling and running were my main forms of fat-fighting, with annual half marathons being my motivation (“You need to have something to aim for”). But my knees were starting … Continue reading “I’m Finally In Control”

The post I’m Finally In Control appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Mark's Daily Apple