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Better late than never

Years ago I used to go to a well known fat club.  One particular day after another disastrous week and yet another gain I broke into tears.  Yeah yeah I hear you.  I was one of "those" people. The ones who sob because they ate a giant kebab and chips with extra garlic sauce the day before weigh in and then freaked out because they'd gained half a pound.

Except I wasn't.  I had my ups and downs but generally didn't put too much pressure on myself.  I had a great social life and if I gained weight that was ok because I'd enjoyed myself and would pull it back the next week. Ilost a great amount slowly and steadily. The reason I got so upset this particular time was because my consultant asked me to tell her what my reason for being there was.

For my child of course.  The child I didn't have.  The one I didn't know if would have.  The one I  desperately wanted.  The one I wanted to chase around the playground.  The one I wanted to jump up and down on the trampoline with. The one I wanted to take mountain biking.

Not long after that I was pregnant.  I actually continued going because I didn't want to gain too much weight and I wanted to be the fittest, healthiest parent I could be.

Fast forward 4 years and I'm the biggest I've ever been.  I've become complacent.  Lazy. Making excuses.

I now ache like a complete bitch after finally doing the exercise DVD I bought 3 years ago.  It's only 20 minutes but it killed me.

But it's a start.  Better late than never I will be a fit parent.


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