Be gone bellies!
I imagine that losing weight with M.E. is a bit like trying to have sex with a flacid knob. You have the right equipment but the bastarding fucking thing just will NOT work.
I have legs, arms etc, just like you (well maybe not you) but I can’t exercise like you. I can’t go for a lovely walk to burn off some calories, or run, jog, cycle, swim, or even walk up and down the stairs repeatedly. Well that’s not strictly true, I could. I could physically make my body do those things some days but I would also need days, if not weeks and a really comfy bed to recover. Oh and no conversation. Possibly a life time supply of chocolate…. for emergencies, but absolutely no work, no life and no looking after Eli the dictator.
I know what you’re thinking “Oh, I know how you feel, we all get that!”… no you really don’t. You’re jesting, at least I hope you are because if you aren’t then you’re one of my poorly crew and that’s a shit place to be. Unless you’re here, unless you have ME or something similar I genuinely hope you have no idea.
So I can’t exercise the same way others do… so what? I can’t use that shitty excuse as a reason not to lose weight. So I’ve not. I’ve chosen to be proactive in the areas I can and I’ve lost almost 2.5 stone (only half a pound away… that sneaky elusive little half a bastard pound) – it’s taken 8 months which is wayyyyyy longer than someone who can exercise but… I’ve done it and I’m going to keep going n all!
FUCK YOU M.E. (not ME as in me and you, buy as in Myalgic Encephalomyelitis… try and say that when the slurs kick in!)
I joined the local fat club, I follow a diet plan… or a healthy living plan so they tell me *eye roll* and I go and stand beside 15 kebab Margaret every week while she gets on the scales, gasps in horror at another gain and then leaves the class via the Chinese. Some weeks I manage to shift a pound or more, other weeks I do nothing and on the weeks where Mother Nature decides to be an utter shitebag: I put on. Ovulation you complete arsehole: I am both grateful and hateful in equal measures.
I invested in loads of kitchen gadgets – now I could say this is to make life easier for myself but to be honest, I fucking love a gadget. I use them all you know, every now and again I NEED the world’s finest guillotine but there’s two that have stolen my heart….
My Instant Pot and my Actifry.
The brand managers will NOT be happy to be affiliated with a sweary broken mum like me but I can assure you – both of these things will change your life.
Instant Pot is a pressure cooker – you can read alllllll about it on the interwebs. You don’t need me to spoon feed you that info (quit groaning, this is not a public service you freeloader). It allows me to cook stews, curries, chilli, sauces, rice dishes, joints of meat and much more in minimal time – an absolute god send when the brain fog hits… I have been known to burn many many things on a bad day.
Actifry is an air fryer. I’ve had one since they were first launched and after a tense co-habiting period where we both eyed each other suspiciously we agreed; it could make better wedges, chips and goujons than I could. So we became friends, and now my actifry is used a LOT… we’re close.
Now I’m not a chef, or even a very proficient cook but if you’re reading this and wondering what I manage to “create” using these gifts from the big man upstairs…. here we go. Some examples.
I wont post recipes because I’m a throw it in and hope for the best kind of gal but if there’s enough interest I might be tempted.
This sort of food has helped me shift my weight. I’m a weird eater, I don’t snack and if I’m being 100% honest I struggle to stick to the 3 meals a day thing. I can’t seem to find the appetite for it but I’ve found that a light breakfast of something like fruit and yoghurt, a medium sized lunch (like that bad boy mug of soup right there) and a hefty dinner (or tea whatever you what to call it… don’t start) is the way to go for me.
I drink a lot during the day, always have done since on top of everything else I have needy kidneys that decide they’re not playing ball every now and again. So 2-3 litres minimum for me every day.
On my good days Eli and I have a wee wander, not far, but enough that it gets the air round my lungs (don’t get up in arms, Christiaan takes him out ALL.THE.TIME there is no need to phone the Social) and my legs moving. I don’t want muscle wastage which is a big risk with M.E. so I tend to do short bursts of walking rather than big stamina strolling.
I pace – not as in walking up and down the hallway, that would be idiotic with an energy deficiency – but as in manage my energy. I know that my energy reserves mean I can realistically only manage a few things every day, whether that be physical or mental exertion so I pick my battles. On days where I don’t need to work, I’m more physical, on days where work is a priority I live the life of a sloth and am in bed by 9.
It’s working though you know. It’s maybe not working as fast as it would for others, but it would be ironic to do this quickly when everything else in my life goes so slowly these days anyway…
ONWARD AND UPWARD… BELLIES, YOU SHALL NOT DEFEAT ME