I was recently talking to a friend of mine, who, it turns out, has been quietly going to the gym every morning at like 8am, doing an hour of exercise, and then getting on with her day. She says it makes her feel great, gives her energy for the entire day and boosts her confidence. I was struck by the unassuming, industrious and sensible nature of her approach, and listening to her speak was not like listening to someone who is penalising themselves to meet some fashion ideal, but instead, like listening to someone who has found something that works for her, and is sticking to it.

This reminded me of Weight Watchers and of how, last year, I embraced the programme and lost 3 stone; of how great I felt at the time, and of how all the care and preparation of appropriate food-stuffs I undertook at the time was an act of self-care. All former diets had failed for me, because it always felt like an act of self-hatred and deprivation and the feminist within me just couldn’t deal with the thought of undertaking some kind of society-driven anti-fat self-bashing. Equating ‘diet’ with ‘deprive’ always took me into a very difficult psychological terrain that would inevitably end up with some kind of rebellious chocolate-munching spree of defiance. I would get so confused about where I was being cruel/kind to myself that the healthy-eating plan would inevitably fail.

Going to the meetings was a revelation because every woman there found that planning her eating, her meals, her exercise, was a kind of assertion of the importance of herself. Not getting the time to plan what you want to eat, not getting the time to organise luxurious puddings that aren’t loaded with calories, not getting the time to take that pleasant walk to work on a sunny morning you were hoping for… not getting the support from your partner around reduced alcohol/television/junkfood eating festivals… these are the deprivations that WW always seems to be addressing.

I don’t like being overweight. More than disliking the way it looks, I dislike the attendant physical symptoms; the out-of-breathness, the heavy-limbed-ness, the sense of myself as large and clumsy, the way my thighs bang together when I try to walk and the sense I have of having too much stuff to carry… too much me to lug about. Contrastingly I enjoy the nimble, sprightly sense that accompanies regular exercise; the sense of lightness and mischief that follows a meal where I didn’t stuff myself to capacity; the sense of reduced pressure on my feet when I walk without extra weight. And I’ve no interest in attaining thinness at the expense of quality of life, which is always the key point when it comes to self-esteem and personal reserves of energy. Taking care with my food and making sure I exercise is part of honouring how I actually feel about my size… taking it seriously, caring enough to make the effort. It’s about sweeping polemic and ideology aside for a moment and going ‘no, this is how I feel; I’m not going to question that too much, I’m just going to listen to that feeling and attend to it.’

But this time I want to look after my food without the weekly meetings, without the massive material expense of all the meetings… I want to set things up for the rest of my life, so that I don’t yo-yo up and down in weight forever.

The greatest test of my aspirations towards self-love and food, is undoubtedly stress. When I am stressed I forget to make time for meal-planning, so I snack. And a visit to the gym feels untenable when there is so much work to be done. On the other hand, when there is a lot to be done, it’s essential to have the kind of energy that only masses of exercise can bring.

So I’m trying, I’m trying to keep it real with the self-love, to keep my energies high and my quality of life good, to take the pain off my feet and to support myself through the approaching wall of deadlines…

I started with a good, sit-down and plan the meals session with Mark this Sunday. He supportively helped me to organise all the food shopping and all the meals.

Today I made salmon pate for lunch and had it with fat-free crackers, lettuce, leaves grown from my garden, oranges, caperberries and tomatoes. I decided not to eat it whilst editing sounds at the same time, as I have been customarily taking my lunch since the Fantastical Reality Radio Show Editing Feat began in earnest.

I’ll share the recipe here for the pate:

1 small tin of salmon, 3 tbsp of extra low fat soft cheese, juice from half a lemon, 2 tsp horseradish sauce, 1 spring onion, black pepper… whizz with food processor, tip into bowl serve with favourite dipping stuffs…

…here’s hoping the rest of the week is as tasty! Tonight’s luxury pudding: traffic-light jelly.