“Fear of the Fat Man”

Something I wrote a while ago but posted on Medium because I thought that would be more of a thing. As is, I barely check it and have only written like 4 articles on there. Anyway, here you go:

“Fear of the Fat Man” @nutupdate https://medium.com/@nutupdate/fear-of-the-fat-man-2b4ea247e1ed

Any thoughts? You know what to. BETEO.


Fat Boy on a Diet: Off the Scale

I went to the doctor’s on Friday. Fear not, reader, I’m not ill but I have been iffy recently and thought better to have a check up in case it turned out to be something I could fix.

After a quick exam I was asked to hop on the scales.

This is par for the course, at least for chubsters like me. I get it. Weight can be an exacerbating factor for many things and a doc should prompt you to get fitter in the same way they should tell people to quit smoking, health promotion is part of their job.

I don’t get when people complain about doctors advising them to lose weight, I mean, sure it should be approached tactfully, but what do you expect them to do? Ignore something that might be detrimental to your health?

So, logically I don’t mind. But I still feel embarrassed. Of course, it was about to get worse.

I stepped on and the shot round like Usain Bolt in a jetpack. 

In fact it shot right by the last number. 

Yes, my weight was beyond the measurements of the scale.

If only blushing burnt calories. I’d have dropped half a stone easy.

The Doc, without a word, fetched a second scale. This had a display screen. This could show my weight.

I know I’m big. I didn’t expect to step off at 10st or something. But seeing it in black and white hammers home.

Before uni, I was the lightest I had been for years. I was jogging, eating better and walking everywhere. I’m now back where I started in 2011, where I got on the scales for the first time in years.

The weight loss resolution is dead in the water. Penny pinching for the wedding meant I had to stop Chub Club. Laziness and apathy has seen my weight tick up slowly. Worse, I knackered my knee last year and that means jogging is out.

The doctor advised power walking. I have become Harold Bishop.

Dropping weight for the wedding seems a folorn hope. 5 months to go. Suit fitting in a month. I can shift a bit by October, hopefully, but it won’t be a lot.

Looking good and being comfortable in Florida looks unlikely.

The blame lies with me, and I need to buck up and sort this out. I can’t run, but there’s a local gym. It has a pool, but I don’t think I’m ready for that. 

I have to do better.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Fat Boy on a Diet: Tormenting the Chubsters

I don’t think it was deliberate. I don’t think a child that small is capable of such casual meanness but unknowingly the five year old was trolling every single member of Chub Club.

As we queued nervously to be weighed or flicked through our books realising treats would have to be sacrificed this little girl danced happily in the centre. The focus of all the group’s envy.

Firstly, she was happy and comfortable in a way that had abandoned her elders present. Her dancing was untempered by self consciousness, boundless enthusiasm making up for any ability or music. But more than this, and the real reason for the jealousy was that she happily are a Cadbury’s Wispa without any remorse.

I’m not saying nobody else present has eaten chocolate recently, but I doubt any have done without a twinge of guilt or lack of thought.

I’d eaten a pack of M&Ms with the Superbowl and had regretted it. As I queued for the scales I felt distinctly pessimistic about how I had done this week. The M&Ms had followed a pepperoni pizza and been followed by a small stack of ginger nuts. 

It was barely a drop in the excess of Superbowl weekend globally, but it was still a mistake and a moment of greedy weakness, under the flimsy excuse that it was a special occasion.

So I wasn’t feeling confident.

I paid my membership and then emptied my pockets, removed my shoes and hoodie and rechecked my pockets. I neared the front of the line, the scales looming and my spirits low.

I’d followed the new regime, but there had been a few wobbles and there was nowhere to hide. I hadn’t given my all and I was about to reap the consequences on the display.

Stepping into the scales I watched the number climb. And climb and then stop. 

I gaped in surprise.

 I had lost 4.5 lbs. 

I was pleased with my slightly undeserved success and decided that I needed to steady myself. The wobbles must stop and I had to fully commit. Stock to the rules and not go over my treat allowance.

I prepped a salad and healthy snack for my shift the next day and watched TV. 

But as I lay in bed awaiting sleep the voice of greed started to whisper.

“I could murder a Wispa right now.”

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Fat Boy on a Diet: Gain and Pain

Yesterday evening MWF and I went and joined Chub Club, as both of us are wanting to get a bit healthier and lose some weight before our wedding which is now less than nine months away (eek!). 

I haven’t weighed myself in a while and wasn’t stupid, I suspected that I’d gained weight. But I was thinking that I’d land somewhere between my starting weight last year and the lowest I got to. I figured that 2016 was going to be a case of “two steps forward, one step back”.

Unfortunately this was not the case. In the first quarter of last year I had done pretty good but after stopping Chub Club my drive to lose weight veered off a cliff. Last night I found out I had regained all the weight I had lost, with an extra 2lbs on top. I am heavier now than I was a year ago. In fact this might be the heaviest I’ve ever been.

There were contributing factors, but ultimately the buck stops with me. I got lazy, greedy and made stupid decisions. I chose takeaways when I should have made something healthier. I could have gone easier on the chocolates and sweets, and I could have shown a lot more self control.

So, because I am a greedy fool I have left myself a mountain to climb and less than nine months to do it in. The fridge is now filled with fruit and salads, I’ve googled local gyms, chocolate and desserts are a thing of the past.

Even my beloved Lattes aren’t safe, becoming a treat and not my standard order. I’m going to be drinking black coffee again. Dark and bitter days lie ahead, but it’ll be worth it.

The only plus point is that Chub Club insists on going around the group with everyone sharing how they’ve done. Just watching made me uncomfortable so I definitely don’t want to be sitting there telling everyone that I’ve gained weight.

Eat healthy. Exercise more. Sounds simple, right? Let’s see how it goes.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Ch-ch-changing: Fear and Loathing in the Disabled Toilets

I balanced on one leg like an overweight, graceless flamingo. I managed to get my leg free of my trousers and placed it on my empty trainer. 

This had to be one of the most awkward changes in my life. I felt uncomfortable, for a variety of reasons. 

Firstly, there was the smell, which was rather unpleasant. It was a toilet, and recently used, and being a toilet I didn’t want to touch anything more than I had to. I especially didn’t want to put my socks on the floor. If you’ve ever stood in anything wet wearing socks you’ll know it’s a deeply unpleasant experience. Hence the drunk flamingo bit.

The other reason I felt awkward was because it was a disabled toilet and I felt a bit of a heel for possibly depriving someone of the only toilet accessible to them. I prayed to the gods that nobody was waiting outside.

Luckily there wasn’t and completely changed I left and headed for the bus home.

So why was I changing in a toilet?

Well, I’d finished work and it being a warm day was a little sweaty. My uniform is uncomfortable, and I didn’t fancy wearing it on a warm, full bus. But this meant finding somewhere to change. 

We have a staff changing room but it has zero cover. No cubicles or corners. 

You have to change right out in the open. This means waiting until it’s empty and praying that nobody comes in because as soon as the door opens they’ll see you. 

Just writing that makes me feel on edge.

I haven’t had to change in a public changing room for years. Not since school. And if I can avoid it for another 15 years I’ll be happy. I have no desire for anyone except for MWF to see me half naked. And of course that won’t be until after our wedding.

But anyone else? The idea makes me nervous.

I’ve been this way since primary. When I was in year six we used to have swimming once a week. I can distinctly remember there was a time when changing after didn’t bother me. We were all 10-11 so it was before any adolescent insecurity crept in.

I can remember goofing off. Wrapping a towel around my head and doing an impression of Whigfield, who’s “Saturday Night” a year or so earlier. 


It got some laughs and I kept doing it for a few weeks.

Now I was a chunky kid. I had what we called “puppy fat” and I think part of me honestly thought that it would all fall off during my teens and I’d emerge like a ripped butterfly, able to realise my dream of playing for Wales and Swansea.

Of course, this didn’t happy and my puppy fat grew into full grown adult St Bernard fat.

But back in the mid nineties none of this bothered me. I was chunky bit didn’t think much about it. 

Until it was pointed out by some of my schoolmates. And not politely. It went on for a few weeks, and I came to dread those swimming days. I was a crap swimmer anyway, so it wasn’t like it was massively fun to begin with. But being called names afterwards soured it even more.

It got worse in secondary school and all the enjoyment I’d got playing football in primary evaporated. I started “forgetting” my kit on a regular basis, and PE became my least favourite lesson. I wasn’t the only chunky kid. Or the chunkiest, but when I did have to change I just did it quickly, quietly and as closely to the corner as I could.

To be fair I never got any grief at comp. Well, aside from once when two kids who I did PE with tried having a go. For sports two classes were teamed up and my class was put with one of the classes that was for less academic kids. These two in particular were knuckle dragging morons of the lowest order. Think Crabbe and Goyle but without the charisma.

Now one of them was about the same size as me, so when they had a go bout my belly and budding mannaries I was surprised. I then told him that it was a bit rich as he wasn’t exactly slim and to get out of my way, as I needed to get to English and I’m sure their teacher had set up some colouring in for them to do.

Being a gobby, sarky git paid off and the surprise of me actually firing back meant they didn’t bother me again. 

But even without outside influence my insecurities over changing grew like an unattended plant that soon takes over everything.

I was starting to get interested in girls, and starting to realise this was a one way street. And that I didn’t look a thing like the slim, toned celebrities they fancied.

On a family holiday to Jersey I wrecked a beloved Superman shirt leaving it a weird purple-pink colour because I refused to swim in the pool shirtless. 

I’m more comfortable with myself in a lot of ways. I voice my opinions, speak out for myself and don’t worry about my looks that much. But hopping about in that disabled toilet I realised that I still have those old hang ups.

I need to get better. In Sri Lanka I sweltered in the sun, only taking off my shirt when I knew nobody was about and keeping it within reach at all times. I went in the sea a couple of times, running in and out to avoid being spotted.

I haven’t swam in years but with Florida coming next year I’d like to be a bit more comfortable, so that even if I can’t quite summon the courage to take my shirt off I can at least go in the pool and risk a wet T-shirt moment. If I want to cross “swim with dolphins” off the bucket list I need to do something.

Hopefully the weight loss (which has stalled of late) will help and maybe getting a bit fitter again will make me feel more positive too.

I really appreciate and respect all those who promote body confidence and self love, but when it comes to myself I’m not quite there. I would love to be able to strut down a beach or go swimming without feeling self conscious and hating how I look, worrying what people think. I’d love to be comfortable and confident.

I’ve gotten better, and don’t worry about looking stupid as much. I’ve quit running from cameras too. Hell, I’ve even started putting selfies on Instagram.

My mug

But I still need to get to the stage where I don’t look in the mirror and hate what I see. And where I can change clothes without having to find the most secluded spot I can. It would just make my life a lot easier and happier if I could just do my changing in a room where I wasn’t worried about touching anything.
Sorry, this kind of turned into a ramble.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Fat Boy on a Diet: Weighing the consequences

So last week I wrote about the fact it’s been a while since I weighed and I wasn’t feeling confident about getting back on the scales.


Today was the day. I was not feeling good and the worries were building.

How much of an effect had the two weeks of slacking had? Having lost almost one and a half stone how much would have gone back on?

I had nightmarish visions of stepping on to find I’d piled it all back on and was actually heavier than when I started. This seemed unlikely but in the fight between worry and logic, logic always winds up on the canvas.

I emptied my pockets and kicked off my shoes. I considered taking of my glasses as this would help in two ways, first it would make me lighter and secondly I wouldn’t be able to see the bad news.

I hopped on. Sighed and checked how I’d done.

A 2lbs gain.


I was disappointed, but it was far from the disaster I’d feared and I was lucky having gone full Pac-man in the last fortnight, devouring anything that got in my way.

It’s time to get back on it. Be a bit more self disciplined and leave this slump behind me.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Fat Boy on a Diet: The Revenge of the Belly

So, a while ago I wrote about getting on the weighing scales for the first time in a while. It was a sobering experience, which hammered home just how bad the situation had got.

I meant to update because over the next few weeks I did quite well, losing almost one and a half stone and actually seeing the difference. I felt a little more comfortable and some of my clothes fit better. All was right with the world.

I also spoke about how having MWF as my weight loss partner would be a good thing. We shopped for the good stuff and cooked proper, healthy meals for each other and offered encouragement and support. It was definitely a good thing.

And then it wasn’t.

MWF is currently working on her dissertation and this is a stressful time. Stress means snacking, and not wanting to think too much about cooking the right stuff.

As a result there has been a bit of back sliding.

I think I’ve put some of my weight back on, which sucks. I don’t know how much because I’ve stayed off the scales for a bit, but I don’t feel confident.


I don’t think I’ve put it all back on, but I definitely feel it.

My work shirts feel snugger and I’m more worried that my belly is going to sneak out under it, and those clothes which had got a bit baggier aren’t as baggy now.

I can’t blame MWF. This is on me. I could have taken over the cooking more, gone for healthier options and resisted snacks, but I have terrible will power and when tired I just want to veg on the sofa with some biscuits.

MWF has the stressful dissertation, I don’t. Heck, even when I had one to do myself back in ’07 I wasn’t stressed about it.

No, this is me being weak and greedy. I should have stayed the course but took the easy way out and I’ll admit I enjoyed the overindulgence and gluttony.


But enough is enough. I am on diet hiatus until MWF’s deadline but until then I will exercise a little bit of self control and maybe atop after the first dozen biscuits.

I just hope I haven’t undone all that good work, and I admit to not looking forward to my next date with the scales, but I’ll let you know how it goes.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Fat boy on a diet: Scale of the problem

So at the start of the year, like many others, I made resolutions for the coming twelve months. Top of the list was to lose weight, something I’ve wanted to do for a while.

Since going back to uni in autumn ’13 I’ve steadily gained weight, cancelling out the benefit of the regular running and walks to work I was doing before.

I try to eat fairly healthily but I admit that I am guilty of snacking too much and taking the easy option of takeaways. This along with stints of unemployment means that I knew I was getting heavier and decided that 2016 would be the year to make a change.

Luckily this year I have MWF to help me, as she wants to lose a little too. MWF has found us a plan to follow which will help a lot, rather than me just trying in ignorance. It’ll also be good having a partner to help me keep going and as we eat together it makes sense.

At this point I just want to make it abundantly clear that MWF and I have decided to lose weight because both of us want to be more comfortable. It’s a personal choice and I appreciate that different people are comfortable at different points.

Do what’s right for you.

If you’re big and happy and comfortable with yourself, then keep doing what you’re doing. If you feel you’d be happier a little smaller, then do that. Don’t let anyone tell you what to do or what size you have to be, when you feel good about yourself, you feel good and that’s the main thing. Love yourself.

With the plan starting this week I decided to see just what the situation was. I won’t lie, I’ve avoided the scales for quite a while. The thing is having a hard numerical value attached changes how you look at things, or at least it does to me.

I mainly want to lose weight so I’m more comfortable with myself and how I look, and that’s an abstract. Recently I’ve felt more self conscious and awkward, not liking what I see in the mirror or how my clothes fit. I want to get somewhere where I can look at myself without feeling bad, or go to work not worried that my belly is going to make a guest appearance.

You can’t measure self acceptance and comfort. I can’t tell you what weight I need to hit because I have no clue what it is. I could feel great at x or I might still want to lose some more and get to y.

Someone might tell me I need to hit z, but perhaps I’ll feel less comfortable there. Or I might find it too hard to stay there, the constant food obsession and worry cancelling out any benefit I get from it.

So, with some reluctance, I stepped onto the scales.

It was worse than I thought.


I’m not delusional, I know that I’m heavy. I know I’ve put some on, but looking down at that number was a surprise. How had I got that bad? I really needed to make an effort, as this was worse than I’d expected.

I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel guilty or ashamed of my body. I need to make this change so that I can feel better.

I’m a big believer in accepting and loving yourself, that there is no ideal and the main thing is to be happy. I applaud and love those people who seek to encourage body confidence and change our society’s narrow view of beauty.

Every time I hear someone talking about loving their body and being happy in the face of negativity I can’t help admire those people, and share their stories to help others.

Turns out I need to help myself. I need to lose a bit of weight, because I have let myself go and more importantly I feel bad about myself. I need to make this change, for my own well being.

I’m going to keep looking at the scales, so I know I’m succeeding. But I’m not setting a hard target, because I don’t want to get too obsessed with those little numbers.

I will stop when I want to. When I feel good about myself, when I am comfortable. Not when a scale tells me to.


This is where I want to get to

Sorry, a bit of a ramble, I know, but thanks for sticking with me. And I’ll keep you posted on how I do and feel.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

15 Minute Blog: Jamelia makes me uncomfortable

A variation of the 10 minute plan, decided to give myself a little bit more time today. Written in one go, pictures and punctuation sorted later. 

Ex-popstar turned panel show guest Jamelia has landed herself in some hot water this week after some comments she made while appearing on Loose Women. During the show Jamelia made some massively insensitive comments about how shops should stop selling dresses above or below certain sizes.


This is her quote:

I don’t believe stores should stock clothes below or above a certain weight. They should be made to feel uncomfortable when they go in and can’t find a size.

Understandably, this was not received well, with many attacking Jamelia for creating more negative body image issues and it generally being a cruel policy. Awkwardly for ITV she then appeared on Good Morning Britain where she was part of #SelfieEsteem, the show’s social media campaign to improve body image and make women more confident. The campaign is based on a recent study which revealed that many women take five or six attempts to take a selfie, striving for perfection.

This isn’t a surprise, MWG is sensitive about what photos of her I share online and one of her friends was once drunkenly lamenting the fact that none of her selfies were coming out properly as she tried to Snapchat a young male.

But it’s a bit bad for someone who’s advocating for increased confidence and self esteem has, that same week, said that larger women should be made to feel “uncomfortable”.

Personally, I think Jamelia was bang out of order and her pathetic attempt at an apology on GMB didn’t help. Why would you want to make people feel uncomfortable?

As a fat man, let me tell you something for nothing, feeling uncomfortable while shopping for clothes doesn’t make me want to address my weight, it makes me want to hide away from the world. I remember quite clearly going shopping for shirts for a job interview a few years ago and finding that the shop I went to didn’t stock anything that would fit me. The over gelled staff member was embarrassed, I definitely was and I left with no shirt.

After that 80% of my shopping was done online.

Losing weight is tough. This week we’ve learnt that many short cuts are fake, even dangerous, but I don’t think people get that a major barrier to us bigger folks getting in shape is down to the reactions we face.

When I was running I used to feel painfully self conscious. To that end I’d often run in the early hours or late at night, when less people were about. I knew I looked terrible, red faced and sweating, but I was trying, and had someone laughed or made a comment it would have destroyed me.

Over time I got more comfortable, and by the end I didn’t even care how I looked, because I knew how I felt. I felt good, and I knew I was smaller than I had been at the start. I never reached buff level, but I was slimmer and healthier and I’m determined to start running again soon. A new pair of trainers and I’ll be out there, trying to make up for an extended period when Lazy Chris has been in control.

Jamelia’s comments are indicative of this moronic idea that permeates our society. The idea that fat people don’t feel bad about ourselves already, we do. Finding clothes that fit as a bloke is tough, and I know that for women it can be more difficult due to the variety of body shapes and the stigma around larger dresses. As much as the Tess Munsters of this world do their part to help body confidence and illustrate that beauty isn’t dependent on being thin, it’s an uphill struggle.

Tess Munster- founder of the #effyourbeautystandards campaign.

Tess Munster- founder of the #effyourbeautystandards campaign.

Larger women don’t need to be made to feel worse. Losing weight is tough, and sometimes unnecessary. You can be overweight but still healthy enough to live your life, and at the end of the day it’s your life and your body. There are tons of things in this world that make us feel bad and make life difficult, hating yourself is not something anyone needs.

I feel that Jamelia hasn’t fully understood how insensitive she’s been and her defence of “I’m paid to give my opinions” is bollocks. You have the right to express them and we have a right to criticize them, and GMB should have booted her from the #SelfieEsteem campaign. It’s a shame, because I’ve always thought she was kinda cool before, and always came across well.

We shouldn’t be making people uncomfortable, we should be encouraging them to embrace who they are. If you’re a larger lady or a skinny girl, you’re not left out of being beautiful and you should love yourself.

body confidence


If you want to change for yourself, that’s all good, but we shouldn’t be bullying people to change and feel bad about themselves, because that can push people to dangerous methods and be disastrous.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.

Resolutions 2015

That time of year ago so here we go-

1. Be nicer

I’m not a scumbag or anything, but I could definitely do with being nicer. More patient, and a little more considerate. So this is a major one, I’m going to try and be politer, more helpful and try to do at least 3 nice things a day, whether this is acts of kindness or just giving compliments. By the way, love what you’ve done with your hair today.


2. Live healthier

I have a Whitesnake shirt to fit into, and I need to get a bit healthier, so less junk food and start running again.


3. Travel more

I really want to travel, and this year I plan to have a few trips with MWG. One is already booked for Budapest and we’re hoping to go to Download this year, but I’d like to maybe fit in a few more minor trips as well.

4. Manage money better

This may hamper some of the other resolutions, but I really need to get better at budgeting and start building some savings up.

5. Socialize more

I’m really bad at staying in touch with my friends and I need to be better and see them more often. Basically I’m just lazy when it comes to organizing stuff.

6. Get another tattoo

I’ve wanted one for a while and have a bunch of ideas, I’m hoping to get a BBW pinup/mermaid done, and MWG has offered this as a birthday present, and I’m trying to save for a few smaller pieces. The picture below isn’t what I want, though it’s sort of similar, I just think it looks boss.


7. Be more positive/Complain less

8. Try at least one new thing a month

Scuba diving, going in a shark cage, white collar boxing, whatever, I want to have some new experiences this year and challenge myself. They can help with the healthy living, crossing things off my bucket list and might help make me write more interesting posts for you guys.

9. Read for at least half an hour a day

I love reading, and I think setting myself half an hour to lose myself in a good book would be a nice way to get some quiet time and enjoy some quality books.

10. Rememberlutions/Jolly Jar

Heard about this on another blog, and then Buzzfeed did a piece on it. Basically the idea is that you get a jar/tin and then throughout the year put in your accomplishments and good memories, and then at the end of the year you read them back.

It sounds like a good way to focus on the positives and means even if I don’t get 10 out of 10 on these resolutions I’ll have something good to look back on make me feel better.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.