Adam Richard - creator/writer/star of Outland
The Boombah Diaries
I've decided I need to lose weight. Again. I make this decision every year about this time. It's November. Last year it was in September, when I kept getting kicked off roller coasters at Movie World for being too fat. My then 10yo step-monster was so disappointed. His dad, now my ex (long story, which I've never told well), was too scared to go on the rides with him, and I was too fat.
My last attempt at fat reduction, after the roller coaster rejection horror, was Weight Watchers. In principle, it's a great plan. The points are easy to calculate, and you can eat as much fruit as you like. Unfortunately, their online customer service department is atrocious. I quit the program in a flurry of fury after their third email to me that had clearly been cut and pasted from their troubleshooting FAQs. I used to be a systems administrator, so I am pretty adept at doing my own troubleshooting before contacting technical support.
Anyway, I never really lost much weight with WW. Portion control. The program is aimed at suburban mothers. Recipes are for 4-6 people. Until we broke up, the boyf and I would eat half of the meals each. Double the recommended portion, basically. You don't even want to know what happened when I moved out. Well, you can probably guess. Yep. I ate it all. Serving 4-6 people? Nup, self serving only.
Eventually I moved into my own place, near a train station. Great impetus to do lots of walking. I could feel my trousers getting roomier. I don't own scales, so I don't know what the exact weight loss was, but enough to make one of my work colleagues awkwardly mention that I was looking "healthy." This, ironically, is the same euphemism people used when, at 23yo I blossomed from 75kg to 100kg in a matter of months. Now I am near enough to 140, nearly double my former size. I felt so good about the compliments I was getting on my incidentally trim figure (it was maybe 5kg, I'm being facetious) I celebrated with chocolate and schnitzels. Boom. Bah.
I've signed up to the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Training website. She's the trainer from The Biggest Loser. I've always found her strident and officious. I also suspect she's had boob implants and some kind of lip work done. I judge her because it's easier than looking in the mirror and hating myself. Not that I do. I'm okay with how I look in the mirror. I'm just not happy with how hard it is to get up out of a chair, walk to the shops, or put on pants.
Why would I sign up to do a program devised by a woman who shits me? One - Testimonial from a friend of a friend who shed 20kg on the program and raved about it with the demented enthusiasm of a Scientologist; Two - I was on an episode of Can of Worms with Bridges, and I found her to be a genuinely enthusiastic fitness evangelist, and I was sold on her earnestness almost immediately; and Three - my sister (also called Michelle) thinks she is awesome. My sister (who shall henceforth be known as Michelle, and the other as Bridges) has a Bachelor of Science (with Distinction) in Health Promotion from Deakin University, and as such is versed in nutrition, psychology and other healthy subjects. What I'm saying is, my sis knows better, and if she says Bridges is the business, I cannot argue. (Don't tell Michelle that, because, as siblings, we argue about anything and everything, and she must never know she is right. About anything).
So this is me saying I am going to follow Bridges and her healthy plan. I’ll keep you updated on just how incapable I am of following basic instruction and all the awful things I put in my face during my moments of weakness. I will also tell you when I do something right, but nobody really wants to hear about those, right? We want to revel in failure and disappointment. I will not disappoint with my disappointment. So this is it. Day one of The Boombah Diaries. (I was about to type "buckle up, it's time for take-off," but as I discovered at Movie World, the buckle isn't big enough).