Hello. My name is Alan, and I am morbidly obese. It is four weeks since I ate a pie.
My dietician and psychologist encouraged me to join HELP, the Healthy Eating Life Plan group which meets on Monday afternoons at North Lakes Health Precinct. I attended the first meeting, three weeks ago, but missed the second due to confusion arising over Queen’s Birthday. It was announced there would obviously not be a session on that holiday.
What I did not realise is that Western Australia and Queensland celebrate the holiday in separate weeks. So when the calendar in my iPad told me it was Queen’s Birthday, I did not think to look into where. I just took a holiday. As if every day isn’t already a holiday.
Thus I missed a meeting. QB in Queensland is a week later.
I was reluctant to go in the first place, as I felt I already had a handle on things. I was already motivated, educated, and making progress on my own. Besides, it is an hour drive each way. I could spend that time swimming.
In fact it has so far proved that I am indeed already doing the things they are promoting; planning my meals, balancing the food groups, counting the calories, but not denying myself the foods I like. I feel like I know what the dietician and psychologist are going to say next.
Having given lectures myself over the years, I know there is nothing more irksome than a know-it-all smart-arse in the room when you are trying to make a point. To be frank, this is a life or death matter – for some of us at least. On the other hand some positive examples can be encouraging. And I have learned a few things. I can’t just sit there like one of the plastic vegetable portion sizes they had on display. So I tried to assume the role of the quiet chap in the corner who occasionally comes up with a good idea. But there is this matter of my sense of humour. I know it can be a problem. I like to think it is self-deprecating, but when I call the group the Really, Really Fat Persons’ Support Group, and I am the smallest really really fat person in the room…
Enough of that.
A serious problem with travelling off Bribie Island is that the only route out and back takes me past Beefy’s Pies at Ningi. I can drive past MacDonald’s and KFC without a second thought, but a good pie bakery is another matter entirely. I was forced to abandon any notion of camping at Tin Can Bay after I discovered how very, very good the mushroom pies were at the Tin Can Bay Bakery.
As I only leave the island for medical matters, it has not been often until this weekly session began, so I have not minded indulging myself at Beefy’s whenever I passed.
They do make very good pies.
I may have to rethink that, as a weekly treat of that many kilojoules is not going to be as easy to deal with as a monthly or even bi-monthly one.
I justified it today by promising myself a good two and a half hours of swimming on the way home. I got to the pool at about 4 and was in the water by 4:15. That should have given me plenty of time before the pool closed at 7.
But best laid plans gang aft aglae. At 55 minutes in, I suddenly got an excruciating cramp in, of all places, the second toe of my right foot. I made my way to the shallow end and stood up, relieving the pain immediately. But as soon as I started swimming again it returned. After a couple more tries I knew that was it for the day. I hadn’t even burnt off the energy from the pie. I definitely should not have had chips with it.
Ah well. Tomorrow is another day.