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I confess..I'm proud of all my failed diets.

Byline: Susan Riddell LET ME ENTERTAIN YOU

I'VE recently lost two dress sizes - a size eight and a size 10.

A 12 isn't too much of a hardship, I'll grant you, but if I continue my on my current diet, which resembles an Olympic swimmer's meal plan minus all the swimming, it won't be long till I need cut out of my flat.

I just love eating stuff. Those smug people who proclaim that they "eat to live, not live to eat" are aliens, another species.

To give you an idea of how much I live to eat, I wrote a food review column for my student newspaper under the pseudonym Inspector Morsel for the sole purpose of getting free grub.

I tried to forge a career out of eating and being paid to write about it. In this very paper, I once dedicated an entire column to my love of butter.

Suffice to say, it was only a matter of time before it all caught up with me. My speedy metabolism has served me well over the years but now it seems it's had a word with the union man. It's on strike or a go-slow, at least.

So when my brother's wife who just popped a sprog (my lovely wee nephew number two, Nathan) told me she was joining a slimming club, I said I'd tag along.

She looked at me with a concerned expression, saying: "Susan, you'll be lynched, you're not fat enough." But I insisted I was going. "You better shove a pillow up your jook," was her reply.

Why should they get to have all the fun? A diet isn't fun, I hear you say. But diets are quite fun.

I look back on my past failed diets with fondness - the juicing episodes, the Gillian McKeith years and the Atkins.

I lost half a stone on the Atkins before my holidays and put it all back on in the airport in a crisp and beer binge during a delay. So I was looking forward to going to an actual slimming class for the camaraderie alone. I was worried that I wouldn't be heavy enough though and I ate like a pig before and wore something baggy to make myself appear as large as possible.

When we got there, though - quite disappointingly - nobody chased me out of there. It had the feel of an AA meeting, everyone confessing their weight and how they'd relapsed during the week. It was everything I hoped for and more.

It turns out I'm in the higher end of my BMI so technically I don't need to be there, but I want to see if it works. I've got a target weight and I've already been boring Sharon with pictures of my breakfast, lunch and dinner.

And looking forward to falling off the wagon and telling everyone about it, because that's part of the fun too.

Eventually though, I hope to gain a dress size - a size 10, that is.

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Publication:Daily Record (Glasgow, Scotland)
Date:Jul 10, 2015
Words:499
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