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The last six


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Another chicken wing and I'll go for a run.

Another chicken wing and I'll go for a run.

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll know this was the year I became a fat person - and what a joyous experience it's been watching my body's portions super-size.

I can't deny I had some fun getting fat.

There was the daily proscuitto and egg roll from Bacino in Manly, in Sydney's north, that tasted like the promises of a mythical princess; it just sang of ancient pleasure in your mouth.

There was also the pizza, deep fried chicken wings and the Thai food coagulating with peanut sauce, as well as the drunken kebabs from a certain takeaway store in Manly's Corso where you can get a f---, feed or fight most Friday and Saturday nights.

There were pies with sauce, blocks of white chocolate, sausage rolls with sauce and blocks of dark chocolate - all eaten on the sauce in the block of flats that had become my lair after my break-up.

Sauce-wise there was much frosty cold Asahi and 16-year-old Lagavulin or, when slumming it, Hahn Super Dry and Jamieson Irish whisky - even a stray bottle of Jim Beam Black that some PR chick had sent across town to the Badlands of Manly.

Suffice to say, there wasn't much exercising going on, save a shuffle downstairs to the car to drive the 1½ blocks to the corner store for durries, which also added to my languor, stupor and stupidity.

When I did think of exercising, it just seemed too bloody hard, so much easier to smoke a dart, eat another six chicken wings and "start tomorrow".

I've always been an exerciser, always been somewhat body conscious, so the drift up to 101 kilograms had an impact on my head as well. It made me self-conscious, which also meant I stopped stripping off to go swimming, which meant I did even less activity and ... got ... fatter.

Things began to change when I moved back to North Bondi in Sydney's east and realised every person in the post code still looks like a model or has the money to shag one.

For some reason, a woman named Sarah Davis from Jump PT - the vice-captain of my surf club and a personal trainer - took pity on me.

She insisted I start doing a session once a week with her and it was brutal; at one stage I felt like I was coughing up enough tar to repave the Pacific Highway between Coffs Harbour and Ballina.

This was not because she was smashing me - she eased me into locomotion nicely. It was because I'd become such a slug.

For years now - and despite having a child with one - I've hung shit on personal trainers.

"Why do I need to pay some meathead $70 a hour to point up a hill and say 'run'," was always my mind set.

PTs annoyed me as well; too neat, too chatty, too bushy-tailed and positive. I had little respect for them.

Well, I have to say that's changed dramatically since working with Sarah.

A consummate professional, who's also very positive and chatty, she kick-started my fitness routine simply by being there.

Knowing I was going to see her every Monday, guilt compelled me to do another session on my own because I didn't want to seem pathetic.

And when I did work out with her, she was doing things with me I'd always laughed at when I'd watched other people with trainers, thinking "How's that get you fit?"

Steps. Lunges. The speed skater. Burpees. Little circuits with light weights.

It's amazing the energy you can expend, the sweat you can produce and the complaining you can do just by running through some "simple" exercises.

Slowly, my fitness has built up again, so that, last week, I did four sessions by myself and didn't even smoke durries.

I've been eating far, far more healthily and easing off the piss (no more four fingers of Scotch as a night cap).

I've also dropped six kilograms and am now hovering around 94, 95 kilograms.

I also know I have to get really serious about my diet and training if I want the last six to come off, so I can reach my fighting weight - about 88 kilograms.

What's frustrated me is that I used to strip weight off really quickly, but, now I've hit 40, that last six wants to hang around like the stink in your pants when you've left them wet in the washing machine for two days.

Sarah's been monitoring me with a food diary and I know what I'm doing wrong - too many carbs, still too many beers, and still not fully committed to exercising five days a week.

But it never used to be this way.

Anyway, I thought I'd throw it out there for a Friday and ask y'all how you got the last six (or 10 or two or whatever) off when you got fit?

Care to share?

Sam de Brito's latest novel Hello Darkness is in bookstores now. You can follow him on Twitter here.

90 comments so far

  • Well, I'm trying to get more then the last six, ten off, try about twenty-five kg...and it is a killer. (From 90kg weight)
    For the past seven years my weight has always yo-yo'ed and has never ever reached my ideal weight of about 60-65. This is a result of different diets, lukewarm attempts at exercise and general laziness. It was only in the past two years that I got stuck into it and then I lost the motivation again.
    What I found for myself was that at the beginning (when I was with a personal trainer) that I was obligated/obliged/beholden to someone other then myself, about how my diet had been, how my exercise had been and it worked great...
    For a while.
    And then,
    Then I just lost it too--the next weigh in didn't matter anymore.
    I got a bit of a jolt this year when I realized that despite being overweight, I am actually a pretty fit person. (Totally not making that up) and that my blood count is all clear. I realized that I don't want to lose being fit (when I could be fitter) and didn't want to get Diabetes, just because I couldn't control myself and exercise when I needed to.
    I quit the gym and started 3 x 6am bootcamps, and have added extra hour of cardio to my days and I'm dieting like I need to.
    Sorry for the length of my posting!

    Date and time
    October 27, 2011, 7:26PM
    • I lanced a 110 kg boil on my existence.

      Actually my dear old Ma pointed out to me that I go through a post-post-break up weight loss every time. Relationships make me fat and when they go down the toilet they I get fatter. Then I spend 6 months hibernating and not eating properly and then I emerge and have energy to do more stuff and hunger for nice food in reasonable quantities which is when I lose weight.

      I don't know how much I weigh, but I also find that when I clear out my wardrobe of all the aspirational clothes I drop another 5 kilos. So I should be looking less squishy than I did this this time last year.

      And goodness gracious! I was 88 kg at my heaviest and 65 kg at my lightest. Somewhere in between is good for me.

      The Sanctuary
      Date and time
      October 27, 2011, 7:40PM
      • great post :)

        when i rib my husband about his beer belly he responds with 'wait until your 40 . .'

        the only time i've lost weight was when i was breastfeeding, it was awesome because I was also eating non-stop. From 18 to 26 I'd put on about 8kg, it happened so sneakily it took me ages to notice, then I had baby & after six months of breastfeeing I was 5kg less than my pre-pregnancy weight! But yeah I guess that doesn't help you.

        Date and time
        October 27, 2011, 7:44PM
        • good on ya, man! keep it up! gives me much needed motivation. now for the kick up the arse...

          Date and time
          October 27, 2011, 8:00PM
          • Still trying to do it. Have gone from 100 to 90 in the last few months but have hung around 90 like an albatross around an ancient mariner and want to get down to 85.

            So I'm also looking forward to some tips, preferably miracle ones that mean I don't have to stop drinking so much red wine.

            Done the gym, done the healthy eating, done the walks at lunchtime, evening enjoying it all, but yes Sam the last 6...

            Cumberland Oval
            Date and time
            October 27, 2011, 8:20PM
            • It took me 9 months to rip that last 3kg off, for a total loss of 12kg. Hardslog and boring diets. 2 months in Singapore smashing beers, noodles and 3.00am hawker stall raids and 8kg has returned. F..k!

              Date and time
              October 27, 2011, 8:34PM
              • Chemotherapy

                Good for 20 Kg even if all goes well! Then you get the fun of putting it all back again.

                Date and time
                October 27, 2011, 8:52PM
                • For me it's all about reprogramming your genes. If you eat and exercise like our genetic ancestors did, your body will look and move like millions of years have programmed it to. The right way. Feels absolutely incredible.
                  So Primal/Paleo is the answer for me.

                  Date and time
                  October 27, 2011, 9:20PM
                  • you dont sound too 'fat'
                    best not to think of your weight
                    think about what you eat and where its from
                    I grow most of my food and ride a bike around town, I know that is hard to do in the city but try eating salads and lean food you make it (cook it)yourself so you know what is in it is the best thing you can do for your diet. your body will adjust in time. and hey you may have an unexplained Cerebral hemorrhage tomorrow so if you want you should have that burger or beer now.

                    Date and time
                    October 27, 2011, 10:00PM
                    • Sure, Sam, great your working out, watching what you eat, etc. But it's Sarah that should get the accolade, having to try a motivate a miserable lump of lard as your good self. It can't have been easy. I mean she had to witness you spiting up the bitumen. I recall a couple of Sarah and Freds who gingered me along, goaded, praised. I have little tolerance for partners and others who expect me to help them. If you want to go to the gym, walk, cycle; just do it and don't bother me. Three cheers for Sarah!

                      Date and time
                      October 27, 2011, 10:47PM

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