The death of a diet

This is the story of how my diet died. In the past when diets have failed, I haven't just woken up one morning and decided to give up. It's normally one of two things. The first is an event when the diet is pushed aside for the night, such as works night out, a wedding or christmas party. This would lead to other nights off shortly after eventually leading to having every night off. The other is a slow unravelling of the diet where I'm still eating the right meals but I gradually start snacking more and more in-between meals until I'm eating so much I can no longer say i'm on a diet.

I've been affected by both of these. After my wife's birthday party I spent the week picking bits of the leftover cake and buffet. When that ran out it was anything I could find in the cupboard, baby biscuits, curry paste, hot sauce, anything I could put on my tongue and taste. I had started putting on weight again. Shortly after, I went to a christening, rammed the buffet down my throat without any thought to my diet. It was then I realised that my diet had ended.

As I left the reception a cold wind blew against me and I pulled my suit jacket together to shield me. This suit gets worn 2-3 times per year for Christenings, Funerals and Weddings. The last time I had worn it was for my youngest son, Andrew's, baptism earlier this year. When I pulled the jacket together it wrapped right around me. There have been times when I have grown too fat for this suit but now it was too big for me. I was on the verge of giving up but now I could see how much weight I'd lost. The signs to say my diet had failed were all there, but I didn't have to accept this was the end. I had to start again, properly this time.

The next morning my diet was reborn, and today five days later I've already lost 4 pounds.