20th May - The Plateau



Verb. Meaning: "A state of little or no change following a period of activity of progress." There's nothing I hate more in life than a fucking plateau, (not be confused with Gateaux, which is actually rather nice). In all forms of life, we should never be content to stay the same, and should always be looking to improve in whatever we do. Progression is the key to both success and happiness, and doing the same things day-in, day-out, are a sure-fire way to live a stagnant life, and let your mind stay small and uncultured, rather than to expand, and grow. 

Talking of growth, one area I've decided to improve on in recent times in my abdominal girth. I've written numerous blogs in the past about my relationship with food, but the secret to weight loss is really very simple for anybody on this planet. Set yourself a daily calorie intake based on your deficit rate, stick to it, and exercise regularly (at least 30 mins per day). That's it. That's the 'magic' Science. There's no need for magic slimming potions and fad 30-day sign-up plans to special green detox juice. You just, stick to the above sentence, and every person on this entire planet will lose weight when doing so. 




The reason, over the years, I've put on weight, is once again, down to my simple failure to stick to such rules, through not even trying. I'm not 'big boned', I don't have a 'slow metabolism'. I love(d) to eat shit food 'cuz it tastes nice, and I've often been lazy in the kitchen after long working days so end up ordering a Chinese or Pizza (both of which take me over my daily calorie intake rate). That's it. That's why I'm fat. Simple as that. But for the past 5 weeks, I've decided to trim a bit off my waistline, mainly on account of all the damage I'm gonna do to it again next week on an all-inclusive in the Caribbean (the bar's open 24 hours a day mate. Honestly, it's actually probably considered 'rude' by the locals to not be guzzling Pina Coladas alongside a packet of Jamón Lays at 4am every night). 

With that in mind, I've lost just over 2 stone during that time, but this week, for some unbeknown reasons, the scales are refusing to budge. Try as I might, they're stuck. I thought they were even faulty, but they're not cuz I've even gained a pound this morning. Everything I've done over the past 5 weeks has been replicated in the past week alone. The long walks, the 7-a-side football sessions, the high-fibre, high-protein, low-carb and low-sugar diet which sees me consuming a million chicken breasts per week like some sort of deranged caveman. But for some reason, I've hit the plateau. Nobody really knows how to overcome the plateau, but maybe, just maybe (I'm clearly an optimist)... 




... Seven days of strawberry daiquiris by the pool next week, is the cure?



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