Take the C off chips and what do you get?
And mine are getting bigger. I’m still weighing in at a healthy nine stone 10, which is eight pounds more than I should be. I’ve been training a lot, and when I train I tell myself that it’s alright to have the odd treat. Everything in moderation and all that.
Unfortunately, my idea of moderation is not what other people may think is moderate. A family pack of Minstrels, Maltesers and a Dairy Milk in one evening seems fairly moderate to me. Others may disagree, of course, but they’d be wrong.
What I don’t think is moderate is having chips four times in one week. That is just wrong, very, very, very wrong. But it’s exactly what I did last week.
I was fine until Wednesday, but then I went to meet my tutor at university. I like going to university, so decided to go earlier and have lunch out to make a day of it. Off I went to the Showroom Cinema in Sheffield. I ordered a sandwich and before I knew what I’d done, I’d ordered chips to go with it. That was portion number one and, if I’d stopped there, that would have been fine, but I didn’t. The chip-eating continued.
The next portion was on Friday evening. Chris and I were both absolutely shattered after a busy week of work and training. I’m not really one for cooking, and Chris looked too tired to even turn on the oven, so we went to The Swan and Cygnet down the road. I ordered lasagna. And, as if all the pasta and meat and garlic bread wasn’t enough, I ordered chips with it!
Then came Saturday evening – a bar meal out with friends. It was one of those relaxed evenings where the food just keeps on coming. My friends had already ordered some sweet potato fries and chicken for us to nibble on, then I ordered cheese burger with chips. When the waiter brought out my food, he was very apologetic. ‘We’ve run out of coleslaw,’ he said. ‘So we’ve given you extra chips.’
I looked at the bucket of chips. Yes, it was actually a bucket of chips, overflowing onto my plate. ‘Blimey,’ I said. ‘I’ll not be able to eat all that.’
But I clearly underestimated my chip-eating capabilities. I ate the lot, and could actually have eaten more! It was only afterwards that I realised how many portions of chips I’d consumed. I almost went into shock.
I also have to confess that my Saturday evening feast happened after Chris and I had been to Harrogate for afternoon tea, where we happily munched our way through all this, while drinking gallons of tea.
It’s been a week of chips and cake. This is not a normal week. Cake is normal. Chips are not. When I told my Mum about my disgraceful chip week, she laughed. ‘A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,’ she said.
When I stepped off the scales, this morning, I realised she had a point.