The fat and furious

NO one wants to be overweight. Well, unless one is anorexic and frail, they might collapse because of it. Some people want to gain some extra weight because they have been mocked and ridiculed their whole lives for being too thin. Carrying a huge bulk is not child’s play, it is actually torturous. Extra weight does come with its own baggage. Snoring during sleep is a norm for someone overweight but a pain for those who have to endure the sound of a snorer. Being overweight means you are tired most of the time because well, it is a no brainer that working while having some extra load is not easy. It is laborious to breathe, as your lungs have to work extra to force oxygen in and out through pressures of fat. Doing menial tasks like stooping to fasten loosened shoes is the most painful and sweat-breaking mission for someone overweight. It is embarrassing to ask for a larger clothing size while most people comfortably fit in the “normal” range size. Wearing a size 40 plus is not fun. The year was 2015. This was the year of frustrations, anger and fury for me. I was overweight. I was so fat that most of what I mentioned above were my daily pain; a constant reminder that I was way out of shape for a man my height and age. I would break sweat for doing so little, and would be further cursed by breathing as if I had run a 42 kilometres marathon, yet I would have just climbed up an average staircase. It was frustrating for most part because I had tried everything and anything to shed some few kilograms but to no avail. I had joined a jogging-team, going 5 to 10 kilometres every morning at 5 before going to work. We would do some longer distances on weekends and all these did not even touch my weight from where it was. In fact, for the next few months, my weight ballooned out of control so much that jogging was no longer fun. In my mind, I was getting fat because I was not working out hard enough, not putting in some extra effort to lose weight. Maybe I should even be lifting weights or hiking every weekend. I thought maybe if I could just do more and move more, my weight would go back to where it was. My “move more and do more” did not even move my weight to a desired direction: down. It got so bad that at one point, refusing to accept that I was now a size 40, tried to squeeze into size 38 and my day ended in tears. The pair of trousers I had squeezed my bulged size into, ripped apart from the waist down revealing my underwear. All these happened while I was at a colleague’s wedding ceremony. That was the highlight of my 2015. I was fat and furious. I did not know the cause of gaining so much weight. What was the cause of all this visceral fat around my waist? I was eating like an average working man. A standard diet touted by the West as the perfect diet. I would eat cereals in the morning, soaked in a low-fat or skimmed milk. A fruit or two would then follow after a glass of “100 %” juice. If I had some cravings for some margarine, I would then toast my “whole grain” bread and apply some margarine, then a coffee or tea to complement the bread. I was not eating anything out of the ordinary for my breakfast. My breakfast was normally between 6 and 7 every morning during the week days, but a bit late during the weekends. My lunch was at one o’clock, just like everybody else in this country or at least for most people. It normally comprised of papa, some meat and vegetables in most cases. Some other times it would be bread with some likahare (organ meats). This would be downed with a fizzy drink hore ke bohlise ha monatjana (to belch nicely after a heavy meal). Dinner would still be similar to lunch, or sometimes rice, with meat and vegetables. Coffee or tea with some three spoons of brown sugar was nice to wash down the meal. I still did not think my eating could be a major culprit for my ballooning weight. I would indulge in sugary treats from time to time, like motho-fela-makhetha (average Joe). A slice of cake here, some truffle or chocolate there. What could have gone wrong? Sugary treats are not so bad after all, or are they? Sometimes all it takes for a much-needed transformation is to do what is out of the ordinary, maybe to be a rebel. Challenging a status quo, questioning the authority and being an independent thinker. I believe that current dietary guidelines are faulty and need to be revised if we are to see a decline in obesity rate. My weight loss journey came when I realised that most, if not all, of what we have been told to do in order to stay in shape was a lie, a hoax meant to keep us fat and sick for the benefit of those making profits out of our demise. Out of frustrations and anger, I stumbled upon a Facebook post by one friend. She had posted her before-and-after pictures that left my jaws dropped. I had not seen such a transformation from fat to lean in such a short period of time. I immediately dropped her a private message asking her to help with my weight. Within minutes, she had answered my message with a short note that still resonates in my mind even today. The message was short and to the point. “Google Banting”, it read. I researched, like she had suggested, and came up with something that would change my life for good. My grocery list changed dramatically the following month. Instead of standard cooking oils, I shopped for butter, lard, coconut oil and olive oil. Taking tea and coffee without sugar was the most difficult endeavour, they were tasteless and very bitter, but I stood my ground. Sugar never made it to my shopping list again. My morning cereals and bread were replaced by eggs, vegetables and bacon. Instead of low-fat milk, I opted for full-cream milk. My lunch was more on vegetables and fatty meats, yes you heard me well. Lean meats were replaced by fatty meat cuts and instead of fearing fat I embraced it by incorporating it in all of my meals. Within a month I got back to size 38. I could not believe what I was seeing. Four months into this way of eating, my size 36 was now loose, I was running out of clothes. In the next six months, I had to re-do my wardrobe. Nothing fits well. When my size reached 32, I felt like I could spread the gospel, tell everybody about my “newly found secret”. My excitement was undeniable. U tlo lapa u hlanye ha u sa je papa, I was told by my surprised colleagues, literally thinking I would starve to death if I did not eat maize-meal. Once I adopted this low carbohydrate lifestyle, snacking between meals gradually declined. Few months in, I had no need for a breakfast as I would still wake up satiated from the last meal I had the previous night. Eating twice or once a day has become a norm for me. I only eat when I am hungry, which is now rare. Carbohydrates are fast burning fuels for your energy. In order to keep you going for long, you must re-fuel from time to time. Meaning you are going to be eating 3 or more times with some occasional snacking in between just to keep you going. Fats on the other hand are slow-burning fuels. They will keep you satiated for a longer period of time, meaning a meal or two a day is enough for you. Snacking becomes a thing of the past. It has been five years in this way of eating, I have maintained my weight without a hitch. Has it been an easy journey? No. I needed motivation more than anything. Quitting the foods that you have been eating for the better part of your life is not easy. The smell of baked bread will derail you; the sound of a popping can of beer will salivate your mouth, making you question the decision to quit drinking. A slice of cake, with all its sugar coatings and soft toppings will make you want to scream and cry at the same time. But the “why” you started eating this way should be strong enough to keep you going. Eventually, every thing that has contributed in your gaining weight will no longer entice you. The cravings will eventually disappear. Maybe then, the words of Wendell Berry will forever remind you that “people are fed by the food industry, which pays not attention to health and are treated by the health industry which pays no attention to food”. l Tšepang Ledia is a Public Relations Officer at Lesotho Electricity Company. He writes in his own capacity. For feedback, send to: mrledia@gmail.com Tšepang Ledia