After a recent knock, I’ve been picking myself up, dusting myself off, and getting on with life.
When you get a shock to the system, and your life is turned upside down, it’s tempting to run to the comforts and vices: chocolate, booze, drugs. I instinctively ran away from these. For the first time in my life, food became a chore rather than a pleasure: not something you want to encounter when you run a food blog!
I decided to get fit. I’ve been swimming or walking, or both, every day. I’ve been staying away from unhealthy foods, and I’ve plunged into a healthy eating regime.
I’ve been quite happily avoiding the sugars, bad starches, and excess dairy. I’m not sure about the term “detox”, but a healthy eating regime, mixed with exercise, certainly does wonders. I only wish I’d started regular swimming a long time ago. I’ve never felt better, and my appetite is back with a vengeance. That may, of course, have something to do with the pleasures of lovely London: more on that later this week (and thank you, kind readers, for your helpful London tips).
I’m not going to get into the specifics of my story, but then again, I’m not as anonymous as our commenters. This is far from a flippant post, but I’m interested to know how you have reacted to food and your bodily health in the aftermath of a dreadful upset (grief, a job loss, a relationship break-up, a health scare or terrible accident, sudden onset of crippling loneliness, or just being surrounded by rottweilers while smelling of dog food).