Lover of make-up, good food, fine wine, heavy weights and sleeping…


So you’re probably looking at this because you want to know who I am, and why I claim to know about health and fitness?

BEFORE: Wearing *that* top

The truth is I have no formal qualifications in kettlebell training, and I have no letters after my name which have any relevance to nutritional health. However, what I do have is something which most fitness professionals and dieticians don’t, and that’s the experience of living through a complete body transition.

Lets jump in my time machine and go back to 2002 when I was sixteen years old. It was the run up to the ‘Big Bash’, an annual Christmas party night at my school. It was an excuse for the boys to smuggle in vodka and the girls to secretly compete for the shortest dress title. Everyone looked forward to the ‘Big Bash’; the tunes, the decorations and the mistletoe. Everyone but me.  On a cold Saturday in December, my mum had taken me to Glasgow on the train to get a new outfit for the big night. But the excitement of a days shopping quickly became a treacherous chore and after a few hours, the credit card still hadn’t left my mums purse. At about 4pm when the daylight was dipping, my mum took me into one of few shops we hadn’t been into. We flicked through the rails and I picked out a top, taking it nervously to the changing room. I still remember standing in the changing room and pulling the top over my head. It fitted. I smiled. Thank God. I glance at the label ‘size 22′. I winced. And I cried.

The battle with my weight had not just happened overnight. I was always a bit chubbier than everyone else, and having a full leg cast on for eight weeks in 1998 definitely took it’s toll. Throughout my teenage years I just got bigger and bigger, and if anyone in my family tried to discuss my weight with me, I would cry and refuse to listen. Total and complete denial. When I moved away to go to University  in 2004, my weight got even more out of control. Being in charge of all my own meals meant I was eating exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. In the summer of 2006, I moved home and planned to drive to Uni to save money. It was a hot, sticky day in July when I went to the doctors for a routine appointment and upon being weighed tipped the scales at a mighty 19 stone 9lbs (275 lbs). The doctor told me I was obese and was running a risk of diabetes and heart disease. This struck a chord and I started to make more of an effort to watch what I ate. But although I lost about 1.5 stone (21lbs) that summer and never regained it, I soon sank back into old habits.

AFTER: With my sister.

It wasn’t until Christmas Eve 2007 when I decided that enough was enough. Having just split up with my then boyfriend, I was feeling miserable and, well, fat.  So after the gluttonous feast that is Christmas day, I began to calorie count and go to the gym. By about April 2008 I was down to 11 stone 11 lbs (165lbs). In just under two years I’d dropped 7 stone 12lbs.

Over the past few years I have mostly maintained my weight. During the summer I tend to go down to around about 11 stone, and in winter, the hot chocolates catch up with me and it goes up a bit, but I think that’s pretty normal. As a formerly obese girl I am very aware of my body and I will never be happy with myself. But, regardless, I’m always trying out different diets and new fitness regimes in order to achieve the perfect bod. I’m beginning to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never get rid of my bingo wings, and that my mammoth thighs might be here to stay. But hey, there’s no harm in trying.

Feel free to contact me for advice or to ask questions, and if you have your own weight loss story, email it to me and if I get enough I’ll create a page for them.

But for now, weigh your pasta down to the gram, ignore the Yorkie screaming your name  and eat clean.