The Fatslayer Chronicles

I went, I camped, I conquered the temptation to eat nothing but Cornish pasties and cream teas for the entire seven days, and I came home a pound lighter than the day I left.

Yowzer!

Camping was fun, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m too anti-social to really enjoy going away for a whole week with anybody other than K. K I’m used to – I feel comfortable and at ease with him (it would be pretty bad if after 15 years together that wasn’t the case!)- but any one else is a bit of a trial.

I expected to have the most friction with K’s chauvinistic friend Ty, but in the end it was his girlfriend Debbie who was the most difficult to tolerate. She seemed to be on the verge of a strop from the very first half hour, and her mood deteriorated noticeably as the week wore on, and by Wednesday it was so bad that even K (Mr Easy-Going) was finding it difficult to tolerate.

I’m not so placid as K and, as her passive/aggressive remarks were aimed mainly at me, I was finding it a real struggle to be pleasant by the end of the week. I succeeded, but it came at the cost of much gritting of teeth and counting to ten. I’m not even so sure it was worth it – at times I felt like blasting her with both barrels!

The fact that K and I were trying to eat reasonably healthily seemed to really get under her skin, and was the catalyst for most of her bitchy comments. Have you noticed that some people seem to get really upset when you try to be healthy, as if they’re worried you’re implying something derogatory about them in comparison? It’s simply bizarre!

She doesn’t have a weight problem as such, but she’s extremely flat-chested, and carries what excess pounds she does have in her bum, hips and thighs (typical English pear-shape). As Ty calls her Bubble Butt constantly, this is obviously not lost on both of them.

K and I were being very discreet about our health kick, not rubbing their noses in it or anything like that or being fussy about where we ate, but trying to make healthy choices from whatever menu was put before us. As the week wore on and it became apparent that they were each drinking 10 pints of lager and smoking twenty cigarettes every day, having chips with every meal, and a cream tea at every town we visited, whereas K and I were choosing meals with new potatoes and veggies, and sharing a cream tea every third day or so, and alternating our drinks between wine, lager and mineral water, then I think Debbie felt increasingly threatened by that, and the snide comments intensified.

Examples of the remarks she came out with were:

“Are you saving up for cosmetic surgery for when you’ve got to your goal? I’ve heard that skin loses all its elasticity when people are as chronically obese as you were…”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit of a waste of time you trying to lose weight? If you’ve not done it by your age you’re not likely to do it at all, are you?”

“Has K ever said he’s repulsed by the size you were?”

“I expect that this time next year you’ll be at your highest ever weight – that’s always what happens, isn’t it? You lose a few pounds and end up regaining them all and a few more on top…”

I was getting well cheesed off with this but I didn’t know how to handle it without ruining everyone’s holiday, so I just deflected the comments as best as I could and pointedly tried to change the subject every time it seemed to be veering in a dangerous direction.

I just couldn’t understand what was causing the hostility and aggression, and it was seriously pissing me off that every time I ordered grilled fish or a mineral water or declined a cream scone or a pint of lager, that there would be some kind of dig made… what the fuck business of hers was it what I ate or didn’t eat?

Jeeze, some people are just hard work, aren’t they?

Anyway, despite the digs I stuck to my guns and wasn’t coerced into eating anything I didn’t want to (nor was K) and both of us came home feeling that we’d passed some kind of test, and come out stronger as a result. The peer pressure to booze ourselves senseless and constantly eat crap was really strong and we withstood it, kept civil and didn’t resort to some kind of tit-for-tat bitchiness. Yay for us!

But if I have any say in the matter, that’s the last week away I ever have with them – there’s only so much teeth gritting a gal can do – next time I won’t be so forbearing!