health and fitness, weight loss

Fat Fight


lard

Oh my goodness, fighting the fat is difficult going.  Extremely so.  My difficulty is in finding out what is good food and what isn’t.  Without guidance, it can be terribly difficult making your way through the maze of calorie counting and weights and measures.

I don’t know about you, but does the calorie counting seem a bit confusing?  For some strange reason, calories in fat are a might different to those in sugar.

So, what’s going on?

Since I was a kid, in the 1970s, my poor diet consisted of chocolate, chips and cheese.  Not altogether and certainly not all at once – although my mother did do this when she was pregnant, so go figure.  However, what I’ve been finding out is that fat doesn’t seem to be the big issue its made out to be.

I did give up fat, once, many moons ago.  But it’s only since I’ve given up the sugar, that my mind has been cleared of all the confusion.  It is as though a cloud is slowly lifting.

Admittedly, Easter did present a big problem for me.  Eggs everywhere.  And I succumbed.  A small one.  A Cadbury’s egg, with a cream egg inside.  I found that, once I had eaten it that delightful taste of chocolate on my tongue didn’t seem the same.  Of course, the normal ‘rush’ that flooded my emotions came to the front line much like a load of troops lining up in a trench for a battle.  That delightfully sweet, sweet taste on my tongue and the tingling in my brain didn’t seem the same.

But what I hadn’t figured on was the extreme irritation immediately after this.

Soon after I had indulged myself, a friend called on the phone.  They were friendly enough.  They tried to help me solve a problem (something to do with my Laptop playing up again), but I didn’t have any patience to deal with their logical, methodical and carefully considered explanation.

My hands trembled and my frown deepened.  I felt as though I wanted to go out for a run, yet I felt strapped down.  My legs jittered and some kind of ache seeped into my joints – wrists, knees and ankles.

I couldn’t work it out.

Then I went and shouted at her.

Most unlike me and completely unforgiveable.

Only after the oddly familiar sensations had subsided did I begin to feel really low.  And that’s when I figured it out.

I had had a high.

Not drugs or anything like that, but a ‘sugar-high’ – after which the inevitable crash and burn followed.

Before I figure out what actually happened, I’ll need to do a little bit of research.  It certainly wasn’t pleasant.  Not for me and certainly not my good friend.

Let me know if you have ever felt the same.

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