Help! Panic stations! My sister is slimmer than me!
Pathetic isn’t it? But sometimes small things are important. Jane and I have been yo-yo dieting for years. One of us usually loses some weight, which when it becomes obvious sparks the other on to some sort of healthy eating regime. By the time that has worked and a few pounds have come off, the other one has put the weight back on again, and so on and so on, ad infinitum.
Now it must be said that both of us have inherited a family tendency to large rear ends, which we have found has put something of a dampener on our plans for careers as catwalk models. As we have got older, bits have got wobblier and harder to get rid of until recently we both decided that for the sake of our knees, and indeed our floorboards, we would make a joint effort to lose weight. We would not go to a slimming club as neither of us is very good at clapping and cheering when other people have done better than us. Neither can we, with enthusiasm, go ‘ooooh yum’ when we are shown how to make a fatless cheesecake, so we pledged to put £3 a week each aside to spend (probably on a slap up feed) when we had reached our targets.
Now this all seemed a very good idea, especially for the first couple of weeks when our respective losses were moderate and roughly similar. Then I started to slow down and Jane just kept going, and going and going, until today, when I am stuck for the third week at a total loss of 10 pounds, she has hit her quarter century – 25lbs and counting.
Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge her the success. Her confidence levels are up, she feels good about herself and has once again started wearing lots of perfume and encouraging men to come close for a waft. But it’s not bloody fair! I have been really good, eaten loads of fruit and veg, had very little chocolate and only the occasional American Hard Gum. What more can I do? Admittedly, I had kids and my sister chose not to, and I am on two kinds of medication that can affect weight. I have also hurt my foot (and taken to blogging) so my pedometer rarely gets near 1000 steps, let alone 10,000 so perhaps I am being hard on myself. But frankly that doesn’t help one bit.
My first instinct is of course to buy a huge bar of chocolate and stuff it down in one sitting. After all my sister did that only last week and look what it did for her! I suspect though that this will not help so I am resolved not to give up just yet. But what can I do? To add to my frustration my husband again suggests swimming, which I hate. Our local pool is grim, having slimy showers and water about two feet down from the side making it impossible to get out with any dignity (he has gym membership and access to a lovely warm pool). With a daughter who trains hard as a competition high jumper and can eat two pizzas, cheesy chips and a tub of ice cream and still find room for more, I feel a stranger in my own home.
Perhaps I should cheat and lace my sister’s tea with that disgusting stuff that bodybuilders have in shakes, then the gap might narrow again. But that seems peevish and bound to backfire – she will probably end up with abs like a heptathlete. Maybe I should just bite the proverbial bullet and get the cossie on and go to Thursday morning aquarobics, dancing across the pool with the grannies. But I know they will do it so much better than me and I can’t grapevine across the shallow end going ‘Yee hah’ with any conviction.
So it looks as if I must put rivalry aside, change the habit of a lifetime and accept myself as I am. I must embrace the lifestyle changes necessary for healthy and lasting weight loss and I must clap my sister every time she stands on the scales and goes ‘Oh! and there was me thinking I had put on..’
Alternatively I will have a gin and tonic and get out the Dairy Milk. No competition.