An Uphill Battle (that will be won) -- not quite a five-minute #freewrite

The prompt for @mariannewest's five-minute #freewrite challenge today is -- uphill -- and instead of something fictional, I thought I'd babble about the very non-fictional uphill battle known as "weight loss."


Header image is CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay

I'm very well acquainted with the matter: it's something I've gone through my entire life. Up and down, then up again. Sometimes I'm fat, sometimes I'm less fat, and skinny is something I've only been for a few of my 33 years.

It all started when I was around 8 years old and lived with my dad. He never cared about proper food guidance and all those typical things. I've already talked previously about my very unconventional childhood and this is just yet another thing to add to it.

If I wanted an entire blackforest cherry cake for dinner, all to myself, I would get it. The fruit and vegetable tray in our fridge was full of those miniature wrapped chocolate bars and they are what I snacked on. If I wanted something more substantial for lunch he'd chuck me a $10 note and tell me to get some KFC -- I was such a frequent customer that they knew my order the moment I got to the counter.

Unsurprisingly, by the time I was 11 years old I was around 110kg.

After he died I was reacquainted with my mum and she fed me properly. If I was hungry, she'd throw an apple at me. I ate proper dinners and lunches and snacked on copious apples. And she had an exercise bike that I began to use religiously. After a year of living with her I literally dropped from 110kg to 65kg.

Of course, however, despite all of that, my relationship with food from earlier on was still terrible and still embedded deep within my mind and it wasn't long til I started gaining it back again. I managed to maintain between 65-75kg for a couple of years, but when I was 16 I started seeing a pizza delivery driver.

Often I would eat dinner with my family and then a couple of hours later he would come over with an end-of-shift pizza for us to devour. One for him and one for me. If we were thirsty in the middle of the night, he'd also bring home a Coke for us. To sip on. In the middle of the night.

Obviously I began to balloon again.

And so, I've been up and down for years. Ever since those days the lightest I've ever been was around 90kg and the heaviest I've ever been was about 140kg. I have absolutely no idea what I am at the moment because I don't have a set of scales and I don't intend to get any either. My clothes will be my guide. I'm assuming I'm around 110kg at the moment.

Or, perhaps even a bit less...

⭐️ ...four weeks ago I bit the bullet and set in motion a plan to completely change my life...

⭐️ ...three weeks ago I changed my eating habits...

⭐️ ...two weeks ago I started incorporating a bit of basic exercise...

⭐️ ...yesterday, I had an elliptical / cross-trainer delivered and I built it up and intend on using it several times a day, just like I used to religiously use my mum's old exercise bike.

This time I will lose it. All of it. And it will stay gone.

I'm not going on a diet, I am embarking upon a complete lifestyle change, and this uphill battle will be one that I overcome and actually win for the first time in my life.


It's time to begin this journey. 💪


You can join in with today's five-minute #freewrite challenge here:



Thank you for reading. 🙃

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