As I may have mentioned on my newsfeed yesterday, Today actually marks my 4th "MFP Birthday". Four years and one week ago, on the 16th of July, I visited my Doctor, regarding a small problem with an infected cut on my leg. In order to give me the correct dosage of antibiotics he asked my weight. I replied that I hadn't a clue, as my bathroom scales only went to 125kg, and I'd been "off the scale" for longer than I could remember.

He then had me stand on the scales and as I looked down my knees nearly went from under me. 184kg. One Hundred and Eighty Frikkin Four Frikken KILOS. The rest of the consultation passed in a kind of haze. I got the script for the tablets, and was told "make an appointment on the way out to come back and see me before the week is up and the tablets run out - we'll see how they're working, and theres a few other things I want to discuss with you.

Tablets started to do the trick and when I went back on the 23rd (4 years ago today) Doctor was happy with my progress. However, then we had a "little chat" - He started with "Mark, do you have a pension scheme you're paying into"... "Er, Yes, Why?" "Well, the thing is, either you need to start and do something about your weight, or you may as well cancel it, because you're not going to make it to 65 to draw on it"... He then went on to suggest all the things he could offer to help me to lose weight - Councilling, Fat Blocking Drugs, "weight watchers" meetings "on prescription" and even bariatric surgery... I was gob-smacked. I said "Can I just simply try good old fashioned counting calories and dieting, and a bit of exercise like riding my bike"... He was sceptical "Do you think you could stick to a Diet..." "I don't know, I've never tried, that's how come I weigh 180kgs!"

So, the Doctor sent me home with a script for another week of antibiotics, and an instruction to write him a "diet log" of what I ate, weights, portion sizes, the lot. Then we'd sit down with the practice dietician and work out something that might help.


The thing was, I'd watched my mother try every diet under the sun, and stick with them for a week-2-3 and then hit a plateau and give up. I guess I'd got it into my head that it was difficult / impossible unless you had masses of willpower. Well - I didn't know how it'd apply to dietary control, but I'd always been a pig-headed, stubborn, awkward *kitten*, maybe I could channel that in lieu of willpower.

But I also knew that I'd need something better than just a notepad to record my food intake, so I did what everyone seems to do these days - I just Googled it. What do you know, I found this little website called MyFitnessPal.com that also had a handy little phone app that scanned barcodes and allowed me to log everything that went down my neck.

So, that was the beginning of my time on here, the simple act of weighing everything I ate, logging everything, and actually REALISING just how many calories were in some of my favourite foods got me started the right way, and the weight began to come off. Then I started riding the bike again, and the weight came off quicker. so I got fitter, and rode more, and the weight continued to come off..

2.5 years in and I was 108kg. I'd lost an entire Bradley Wiggins in weight!

Then My Dad (who I was the full time-live in carer for) died suddenly and unexpectedly, and my whole life was in a bit of a turmoil. Lots of changes in routine and lifestyle, and, I'll admit, the freedom to occasionally go out for a pint or the odd curry. Still logged everything, and still rode plenty - in fact more than ever, and harder. I actually got fitter over the next year than I'd been in years, even though I actually gained maybe 5-7kgs.

Until this Autumn/Winter when I picked up what I thought was a "bit of a chesty cold/cough" - but turned out to be a very nasty bacterial infection, that set up shop in my lungs, then got into the chest walls, around the diaphragm and (scarily) the Pericardium. Went to bed one night and woke at 3am convinced I was having a heart attack - got the ride in the "Krankenwaagen" - Blues and Twos and after two days of non-stop tests in the hospital they had me on an antibiotic drip, the Pericarditis had mostly subsided, I'd narrowly avoided having to have a "drain" on the fluid, but it was painful, as was the infection and inflammation around the rib-cage. For the next 4 months I was undergoing treatment for that inflammation - Costochondritis. The consultant explained it this way "think of it as somewhere between gout and Arthritis in all the hinges at the front and back of your ribs..." Lovely. So, lots of NSAID's and tablets to try and prevent them ruining my stomach (not massively successfully it has to be said)

Which brings me back to about a month ago, where finally the pain relief from the NSAIDs was less than the pain/damage they were causing to my stomach - so I've had a month of feeling reasonably okay, apart from getting heartburn as soon as I bend over to (say) tie my shoelaces, or wash my legs in the shower, pick up something from the floor or (critically) reach the handlebars on the bike. If I ride I have to consciously NOT engage my core muscles, as that makes the acid reflux 10 times worse... so It's slow, steady miles, with little or no climbing, and, preferably on the tops or (better yet) on the MTB that's much more upright. And every so often I get a stabbing pain as one of the lovely little side-effects of all the problems I've had makes itself known - pleural adhesions they're called - lovely little bands of fibres gluing my ribs to the next one, or to the spine, or to the breastbone - only way to "break them down" is to basically "get a bit out of breath" on a regular basis. All I know is they hurt like feck when they start to break down - and bearing in mind half of them are between the breastbone and the ribs, that's basically a whole bunch of stabbing pains right over your heart... doesn't do your nerves much good, I can tell you...

My fitness has gone down the crapper. The various treatments over the past 6 months (some of them were steroid based I understand) , combined with being thoroughly depressed has also resulted in my saying "what the hell" far too often, and my weight's ballooned back up to around 126kg.

BUT...

I've managed to get through the past month without any med's (apart from the odd antacid tablet), and I've ridden my bike nearly every day. My fitness has definitely improved, and I'm getting better. Next week I'm going back to the doctors, as the stomach problems haven't resolved themselves after a month of "settling down time", and hopefully at that point I can make the next step back to being 100% again.

And, as part of making that next step, as of Monday 27th, I'm going back to 100% food logging again (with 3 days of hopefully decent distance cycling left in the current TdF challenge, I'm not making ANY changes to my diet at the moment as I don't wish to compromise my riding any further than it is already).

Proper Strict control on my eating, logging everything, and hopefully get back to the 108kg from 18 months ago as soon as possible. Then from there I can actually consider getting to my desired goal weight of 86kg.

I just hope I can actually get HEALTHY enough to keep the motivation there to actually stick to the weight loss...