Six, part 4: The End of the Trilogy.

For as long as I can remember I've been overweight.

I was the fat kid in school, which is not an easy place to be. You get trapped in a vicious circle. Obviously, to lose the fat you need to exercise, which means throwing yourself into PE. But PE is absolutely the last place the fat kid wants to be. PE is were you are paraded in front of the entire school as being basically shit at everything. PE is were you have to face being consistently picked last for everything. PE is were you are laughed at and tormented.

It takes a lot of courage for a fat kid to really get involved with PE. It was courage I didn't have.

So I stayed the fat kid. I became the fat kid. I joined in the jokes, initiated them even. It became a key part of how I defined myself.

Which is why what I'm about to write feels really weird.

The results of the 2nd six week challenge are in: I'm not fat.

The 2nd six week challenge has replicated the results of the first almost identically. I've lost the 6kg in 6 weeks that I set out to, the majority of which is pure fat loss.

I've hit my targets. Targets that I worked out years ago. Targets that always seemed out of reach.

I've hit targets that mean I am, officially, not fat.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not fit. I still have a keg rather than a six pack and I won't be running any marathons any time soon.

Not fat. I wonder how long it will take for that to really sink in. I hope I can keep the weight off long enough to find out.

If your reading this looking for tips on how to become not fat yourself, there is only really one tip that matters. Find something that works for you.

Forget about looking for the "best", "quickest", "most efficient" ways of losing weight. 

Last year I needed to lose 12 kg, I had 6 weeks, so I "should" have aimed for 2kg a week. If I had gone to the gym every day, and a run, and whatever else I "could" have done it. BUT, and it's a big BUT, if I was the kind of guy who could do all that I probably wouldn't have got to the stage where I needed to lose 12kg. The far more likely outcome of pushing myself too hard would have been to break down and quit after a few days. The breakdown probably would have involved ice cream.

Look for something you can do. Look for something boringly easy. Look for quick wins - maybe switch to drinking more water, cut down on obvious junk food, go for more walks. Whatever works for you. 

It's not a race. It takes time - give it time. In many ways my "6 week" challenge started nearly 30 years ago.

And now I'm not fat.

Mrs & Mr Mummy

On 21 August 2018, I received a message from my mum:

“Hi Dibs got married today”

I like nice surprises. What could be nicer than learning your mum is happy? 

In a world that has gone a little batshit crazy over weddings, I’m incredibly proud of my mum for remembering exactly what the day is suppose to be about. 

“Just me, Steve & 2 friends as witnesses.”

The average cost of a wedding in the UK is apparently above £27,000 and rising every year. Average?!? What is wrong with people? How is that remotely possible when most people can’t afford to save a deposit for a house? What’s worse, studies reveal that the more money spent on a wedding, the more likely the marriage is going to end in divorce. 

I am genuinely proud of my mum for not getting sucked down that blackhole.

CONGRATULATIONS MRS & MR MUMMY!!!!

The newly weds seem great together. Every time I see them, they are filled with happy smiles. Steve waits on her hand and foot, treating her like the queen she is.

I wish you many more joy filled years to come.

Return of the Six

Three weeks ago I drove my wife, daughter, son and mother-in-law to Heathrow. In three weeks time I will go back to pick them all up. 

That can only mean one thing: The Return of the Six Week Challenge.

To recap, the first six week challenge started 55 weeks ago. I weighed, at the time, around 12kg more than my ideal weight. So, whilst the family went to China to enjoy the six week summer holiday, I came up with an absolutely genius plan to improve my health.

The plan: Eat less, exercise more.

49 weeks ago the first challenge ended. The plan worked. I had lost 6kg.

But I left the story on a cliff hanger: I'm off to pick up two of the worlds greatest chefs (Jean & her mum) to come live with me. Think I can keep the weight off? 

The wait is over. The answer you've all been desperate to hear for the past 49 weeks can finally be revealed: Yes and no.

In the weeks that followed the six week challenge I kept my focus. I lost a further 2kg.

Then I remembered how much I like ice cream. Over the next couple of months I gained 5kg.

Then I stopped being an idiot and lost 3kg.

For those struggling with the maths, let me summarise. I start this six week challenge at pretty much exactly where I left off from the last one - 6kg away from my ideal weight. And I've come up with another genius plan to get me to the finishing line:

The NEW plan: Eat less, exercise more.

So, three weeks in, it's time for some graphs.

So far, so good.

3 weeks in, I'm 3 kg down. As far as I am aware, my current weight is the lightest I have been since I was a still growing teenager. Which is nice.

But as always its important to remember not all weight is equal. Specifically, I need to lose fat, not muscle. More graphs please.

Whilst not as accurate as the measurement of weight, it is nice to see I'm mostly losing the fat. Though I may need to up my game on the exercise to keep my muscle mass up.

3 down, 3 to go. Wish me luck.

A Day in the Life

Ultron: What is this?

This feels weird. This feels wrong.

I don't get it. Give me a second.

Ultron is such a relatable character. Every morning when the alarm drags my consciousness back into a pitch black room I know exactly how he felt in his first moments. Every morning I lay there for a while debating whether or not I really need to go to work. Wouldn’t it be easier just to destroy humanity instead? 

Ultron - living the dream.

Eventually the rational and irrational parts of my brain come to an amicable compromise: Pokemon Go. 

25 - 50 Pokemon later I somehow arrive at work and find myself relating to a completely different character: Maui from Moana.

Maui: Without my hook, I am nothing.

Moana: That's not true.

Maui: [angrily shouts] Without my hook, I am nothing!

Just replace “hook” with “morning coffee”. Damn, that’s the good stuff.

“It’s Dave time! Cheehoo!!!!”

My manager takes me to one side at this point and reminds me this is my last warning, I have to stop screaming cheehoo every time I drink my coffee. Spoilsport.

I really can’t complain about my job. That’s explicitly stated in my contract. But genuinely I have very little to complain about. Sure, sometimes I fantasise about doing something else, something “meaningful”. But then I remember we live in a world where salary is indirectly proportional to “meaningfulness” and I’m just not that nice a guy. And so I spend most of my day playing with Excel and sending emails about it.

Some time after sunset my workday comes to an end. 25 - 50 Pokemon later I arrive back home. I’m greeted at the door by the joyful calls of my little demi-human wanting to be picked up and cuddled. My girls sometimes greet me too, but they’ve mostly grown out of it.

Jean never fails to impress me by how well she’s managed to keep both children alive, whilst simultaneously managing 101 other little things. Not surprisingly she’s typically exhausted by the time I get home, so I wolf down my dinner without bothering to chew and check in for my Daddy shift.

Daddy is not as good as Mummy. Little people want Mummy. I spend most of my time just trying to drag them away from Mummy so she can have a second to breathe. I typically fail.

As anyone with children knows, the day ends with a fun little game of “Go To Bed!” After several hours of sulking and tears, exhaustion finally wins out as me and Jean collapse into bed and Charlotte and Matthew get the house to themselves.

A couple of seconds later a weird noise drags my consciousness back into a pitch black room.

What is this?

This feels weird. This feels wrong.

I don't get it. Give me a second.

Farewell 2017

2017 was, on the whole, a good year for the Clan of Jean.

Not surprisingly, the biggest changes were for our smallest member. Matthew showed great intelligence by choosing the Chinese for “cake” as one of his first words. He also took his first wobbly steps, obtained a passport, went to China and Lanzarote, started nursery and played with snow. I would say 2017 will be a year he’ll never forget, but chances are he’s forgotten it already.

Charlotte, having already started the year as a perfectly formed miniature human, obviously had less to change. But that didn’t stop her from doing it anyway. She made huge leaps forward in her reading, maths and artwork, learned to dance, studied Chinese, started playing the piano and became an amazing Flowergirl. She also watched all 169 episodes of My Little Pony. Twice.

Jean, as always, was the engine driving us all forward. As the head of the household she oversaw all of the above, keeping both children alive despite their best efforts whilst simultaneously managing our investments and planning our every spare moment. Our first family holiday to Lanzarote was an incredible time thanks entirely to her.

As for me, well, I completed Zelda Breath of the Wild. Including the additional DLC. And, as if that wasn’t enough, I watched Gallifrey’s sexiest Time Lord finally become a woman.

Yep, 2017 was a good year and 2018 looks promising too. I mean, seriously, the Doctor is a woman!

“Oh, brilliant.”