The
glorious weather (twenty-four degrees Celsius at night and a scorching thirty-five
degrees throughout the day) inspired a wardrobe detox; the winter clothes were
pushed to the back of the cupboard, making way for the colourful tones of
summer.
Amidst
the vibrant hues of cotton and polyester, my black swimming costume emerged –
folded neatly, overwhelmed by the intense musty scent of the old cupboard. And in the process of undressing before my
wife’s full-length mirror, my waterproof trunks were stretched onto my scandalous
body (after an exhausting battle), trying to conceal the overflowing mountains of
fat. The reality of my unrelenting
winter binging escapades flaunting before my own eyes were revealing a distasteful
start to the summer season.
I placed
a large t-shirt over my valley of blubber and dove into the crystal waters of
the swimming pool, hoping to conceal my shame under the water. Admittedly, I enjoyed the afternoon with my
son, tossing the ball backwards and forwards repetitively, however, the image
of my abominable shape kept flashing at the back of my mind, reminding me of my
own torment.
I
could hear the sinister cries from The
Three Tenors who sang joyously in full soprano; Hansel and Gretel were recalling their sensational experiences of
chocolate bars and hard-boiled sweets.
In fact, my mind was abducted by an entire group of self-absorbed
individuals chanting familiar, yet evil rhymes of overeating, leaving me
bewildered and unimpressed by my own self esteem.
I
waited patiently for a group of holidaymakers to leave the pool area before
planning my departure. I swam towards
the steps, scanning the grounds for any human presence, grabbing the towel
resting on the sunbed. My unrehearsed manoeuvres
forced the pocket from my swimming costume to grip onto the gate, causing the
pants to tear loudly on the side. As I
headed on into the house to assess the mutilation, I observed this harsh
wake-up call which reminded me that a strict diet was long overdue.
And
so, after an evening of self-debate and strict promises of adherence, I
embarked on my diet, eager to eliminate those unwanted guests trapped within my
body. The secret to losing weight is
enhanced by drinking copious amounts of water.
Armed with a bottle of mineral water, I am equipped to face the summer
heat with an ocean of optimism by my side.
I
have one more year before I enter the fourth decade of existence on this
planet. My resolution to start my
fortieth year with a new image is one I am determined to keep.
Weight
for me tomorrow. Paul
Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.
For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com
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