A bit out of kilter

We put pressure on ourselves to try to re-enact and recapture moments or experiences from our past.

That is why in the sphere of sport we spend money on such things as expensive equipment and fashionable leisure gear to attempt to emulate a particular acheivement from way, way back in our recollections.

For me, it is trying to reproduce a certain level of fitness and an overwhelming feeling of well being from my early 20's when I cycle-trained just about every day and in a brief competitive phase managed one win, albeit in a minor and local event and a few placings, mainly those with a few pounds of prize money to be able to afford petrol for the return journey home or at best the trade off between a quarter tank of fuel, a bag of crisps and a fizzy drink.

I manage to get out on my bike now only once or at best twice a week and for the first few miles into a ride I do go through vaguely familiar sensations of effortless speed and swift forward movement.

In my energetic youth I would set off for a few hours at a time and regularly notch up distances in excess of one hundred miles at any one time with little physical or mental fatigue. Nowadays it is the case of having to take a few days off the bike after a 50 mile ride just to recover and see off niggling aches and strains.

I have recently changed my habit of a lifetime of picking at food in between large meals and that bad habit of clearing the plates of family members unable to finish their tea or dinners. This was reasonably alright when I could work off the extra calories through exercise or just leading a busy life in husbandly chores and keeping three very active children and two hyperactive dogs entertained. However, with age the metabolism changes.

The added fats, good and bad ones, sugars and carbs just will not shift and before long they contribute to a condition of being obese and unfit. I have been determined to reverse the trend of gaining weight. It is sensible to do so at my age, as I am constantly being reminded in the media and from friends and acquaintances.

This has been difficult, especially in the first few days of the healthy eating regime. Progress was extremely slow and for a good few weeks there was no noticeable benefit in terms of a lighter body weight, improved respiration or shape. The first indications of something good happening was in the remarks of others that I looked trimmer and less bloated. It is only longstanding and loyal friends who can get away with such comments.

One or more chin levels seemed to disappear gradually. Trousers felt a bit looser around the midriff and that previously tight and restrictive shirt collar now felt much more comfortable. A side profile view in a shop window, on a quiet street obviously, suggested a subtle slimming of a previously bulbous shape. A person not seen for a few months asks if there has been any illness with expressions of relief that I was on a diet and not a steeply downward spiral of sickness.

I have purposely not weighed myself as this is very demoralising especially if expecting daily reductions. Alternatively, I have gauged progress by trying on items of clothing that have year by year worked their way to the back of the wardrobe in direct inverse proportion to my increase in weight and dimensions.

A favourite shirt from a Greek holiday was always just too tight across the chest and that bare-chested look went out with the 1980's for sure.

A T shirt, worn regularly in the better weather made me look ripped but I was not able to move my torso because of the tightness of the cotton material.

Those designer jeans would, it appears, be destined to stay on the hanger.

A few long, hungry weeks into my new lifestyle I was thrilled to find that I could fasten up the holiday shirt although sitting down did pop off a button which was disappointing. The T shirt hung loosely making me look rather undernourished and after rolling about on the bedroom carpet I managed to get into those favourite denims.

I am resigned to the fact that my regime will take some time longer to make me entirely happy with myself.

More than that I have adopted some good dietary habits and gone for good, hopefully that culture and craving to pick and over eat.

It is my 51st birthday today and as a bit of a joke I tried on the Kilt, in family clan tartan, in which I was married 25 years ago.

I have attempted the same on a regular basis just in case by some freakish combination it would be wearable. The inner buckle actually fastened. With a mixture of trepidation and excitement I wrapped the heavy cloth around. The outer belt fixing was tight but with a little easing it slid through the clasp and I was able to secure it. Granted, the pleats are not strictly aligned but I am happy to report that I have restored that item of clothing to a prominent hanger in the front part of the cupboard.

Of course, I can see no actual occasion where wearing it would be appropriate and practical especially as I do not own any of the essential accessories, particularly a sporran.

That did not stop me from doing a bit of a birthday jig in it although it would certainly be frowned upon by any Scottish Nationals who happened to witness the pitiful sight. Definitely a No Vote on that basis.