money.”
Joanna was dreading the school reunion. At
size 18-20 she felt massive. Katie’s sneers weren’t her only worry;
there was Gary Billings as well.
Joanna had a raging crush on hunky Gary. Who
wouldn’t? The best schoolboy footballer in Bow, a great career with
West Ham United beckoned. On the short side, but perfectly formed
with muscular thighs, Gary’s toothy smile and emerging celebrity
attracted plenty of female admiration.
Joanna worshipped Gary from a distance - as
did most of the girls who didn’t stand a chance with him - but she
was convinced that if slimmer, her chances would be significantly
enhanced.
Lola always said her smile could light up a
Christmas tree.
Now weighing 16 stones, the shame would be
too much to bear. Dieting had always been a total disaster. She
would lose some then put it back on with interest.
“Apple pie Joanna? They’re Mr. Kipling’s. Go
on, I know you liked them. I brought them especially for you.”
Katie Thompson grinned infuriatingly as she
held out the plate at the Redwood High dance.
Embarrassed and furious, Joanna’s murderous
feelings resurfaced. It was all she could manage not to strangle
Katie’s scrawny neck right there. That would have really made some
headlines on the school’s website.
“Oh yes, they’ve always been my guilty
pleasure. Thanks. I’ll have two I think.”
“Not eating for two are you?”
“No, I’m not pregnant. Just still fat,
Katie.”
“Never mind. One day you might meet a nice
man who’ll love you for your large, eh, personality.”
Joanna cried all the way home in the taxi. To
compound her misery, Gary Billings was still gorgeous and his
trophy squeeze was impossibly slim. To exacerbate it all, he didn’t
even remember her.
The driver was concerned.
“Are you alright love?”
“What do you think? Just went to a school
reunion and a bully from those days made me miserable from her
comments about my size.”
“Walk it off, love. Best way to lose it.
Power walking is very effective. Low impact and it’s sustainable
over a long time. I used to be bigger. Hate gyms and dieting. Love
me food and a pint so decided to make time to power walk and I’ve
lost the weight and kept it off. No harm in trying.”
As there was little else Joanna could think
of, the next day she gave it a go, walking a couple of breathless
miles to Canary Wharf and back.
The following day, a Sunday, instead of
driving, she walked all the way to Mile End to watch Louis play
football. The body heat she built up helped keep her warm watching
from the freezing sidelines. Sandy was so impressed she promised to
join in.
The two threw themselves into their new
fitness regimes, constantly comparing performance and geeing each
other up during lazy spells. Both lived only a few miles from their
workplaces so walking back and forth became a daily occurrence.
Joanna improved her eating habits although
nothing was off limits. Cake, biscuits, ice cream, pizza, crisps
and, of course, Mr. Kipling’s apple pies were still on the menu but
only in moderation.
The weight came off gradually. Unlike in
previous attempts when drastic measures like near-starvation only
had short-term gains, this time she tweaked her routine to build it
into her lifestyle.
This change was sustainable for Joanna who
started receiving compliments from friends and family.
Nat, the security guard in the block where
she lived, certainly noticed.
“How many miles today?”
“Did eight in all, Nat. Lost two stones in
two months. Still a long way to go but I’m determined to reach 10
stone.”
“Keep it up and you’ll soon have George
Clooney as a Facebook friend.”
“How do you know he isn’t already?”
At 29 Nat was ten years younger than Joanna.
When not on duty he was always in the building’s gym and the
rewards of hours of pumping iron showed distinctively under a
form-fitting uniform.
Always pleasant and sometimes flirty, Joanna
was not sure whether he was
Joanna was dreading the school reunion. At
size 18-20 she felt massive. Katie’s sneers weren’t her only worry;
there was Gary Billings as well.
Joanna had a raging crush on hunky Gary. Who
wouldn’t? The best schoolboy footballer in Bow, a great career with
West Ham United beckoned. On the short side, but perfectly formed
with muscular thighs, Gary’s toothy smile and emerging celebrity
attracted plenty of female admiration.
Joanna worshipped Gary from a distance - as
did most of the girls who didn’t stand a chance with him - but she
was convinced that if slimmer, her chances would be significantly
enhanced.
Lola always said her smile could light up a
Christmas tree.
Now weighing 16 stones, the shame would be
too much to bear. Dieting had always been a total disaster. She
would lose some then put it back on with interest.
“Apple pie Joanna? They’re Mr. Kipling’s. Go
on, I know you liked them. I brought them especially for you.”
Katie Thompson grinned infuriatingly as she
held out the plate at the Redwood High dance.
Embarrassed and furious, Joanna’s murderous
feelings resurfaced. It was all she could manage not to strangle
Katie’s scrawny neck right there. That would have really made some
headlines on the school’s website.
“Oh yes, they’ve always been my guilty
pleasure. Thanks. I’ll have two I think.”
“Not eating for two are you?”
“No, I’m not pregnant. Just still fat,
Katie.”
“Never mind. One day you might meet a nice
man who’ll love you for your large, eh, personality.”
Joanna cried all the way home in the taxi. To
compound her misery, Gary Billings was still gorgeous and his
trophy squeeze was impossibly slim. To exacerbate it all, he didn’t
even remember her.
The driver was concerned.
“Are you alright love?”
“What do you think? Just went to a school
reunion and a bully from those days made me miserable from her
comments about my size.”
“Walk it off, love. Best way to lose it.
Power walking is very effective. Low impact and it’s sustainable
over a long time. I used to be bigger. Hate gyms and dieting. Love
me food and a pint so decided to make time to power walk and I’ve
lost the weight and kept it off. No harm in trying.”
As there was little else Joanna could think
of, the next day she gave it a go, walking a couple of breathless
miles to Canary Wharf and back.
The following day, a Sunday, instead of
driving, she walked all the way to Mile End to watch Louis play
football. The body heat she built up helped keep her warm watching
from the freezing sidelines. Sandy was so impressed she promised to
join in.
The two threw themselves into their new
fitness regimes, constantly comparing performance and geeing each
other up during lazy spells. Both lived only a few miles from their
workplaces so walking back and forth became a daily occurrence.
Joanna improved her eating habits although
nothing was off limits. Cake, biscuits, ice cream, pizza, crisps
and, of course, Mr. Kipling’s apple pies were still on the menu but
only in moderation.
The weight came off gradually. Unlike in
previous attempts when drastic measures like near-starvation only
had short-term gains, this time she tweaked her routine to build it
into her lifestyle.
This change was sustainable for Joanna who
started receiving compliments from friends and family.
Nat, the security guard in the block where
she lived, certainly noticed.
“How many miles today?”
“Did eight in all, Nat. Lost two stones in
two months. Still a long way to go but I’m determined to reach 10
stone.”
“Keep it up and you’ll soon have George
Clooney as a Facebook friend.”
“How do you know he isn’t already?”
At 29 Nat was ten years younger than Joanna.
When not on duty he was always in the building’s gym and the
rewards of hours of pumping iron showed distinctively under a
form-fitting uniform.
Always pleasant and sometimes flirty, Joanna
was not sure whether he was
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