It’s currently just over two weeks into Lent, which for me
means 40 days and 40 nights of trying (and sometimes failing) not to eat crisps
and chocolate. The thing is I’m not really all that religious but for whatever
reason, maybe it IS a higher power, I am finally able to exercise some
semblance of self-control.
For those who didn’t spend 13 years in the Catholic school
system, Pancake day is simply a wonderful excuse to eat batter based treats but
for me, Shrove Tuesday has always marked the start of a personal challenge. A
campaign against my gluttonous, greedy ways.
I have half-heartedly been on a diet since my early teens,
trying to find the secret to skinny. Along the way I’ve mostly just discovered
how much I bloody love carbs, and cheese and things that are deep-fried.
My relationship with exercise is also predictably rocky. I
love the way it makes me feel when I get there but the biggest hurdle is
getting out of the door. This exercise dread often wins and with that comes an
oppressive wave of guilt (the Catholicism coming out to play again).
I may seem like somewhat of a hypocrite, embracing one
religious practice while ignoring many of the others but for this small period
of time I can try a little harder, push a little further and eat a little less
rubbish. And once it’s all over, who knows, maybe I’ll be a changed woman…
…or maybe not.
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