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Christmas stuffing

Too many mince pies and choccies last year called for drastic action...


Published by: Jean Jollands
Published on: 11th January 2011

There’s lots to love about Christmas – the pressies and time off work. But most of all for me. it’s about being with family.
And though my eldest Stephen, 23, couldn’t make it this year, me, my fiancé Graham Jones, 44, and my son Barry, 20, had been joined by my mum Pauline, sister Debbie, and her hubby Ian.
‘This… is…delicious,’ I murmured between mouthfuls of turkey smothered in cranberry sauce.
‘Even if the chef says so herself, eh?’ Graham chuckled, piling more roast tatties on his plate.
‘Leave some for us!’ teased Debbie.
‘Too right!’ added Barry, eyeing up the Yorkshire puddings.
Later, slumped in front of a DVD, I opened a box of Quality Street. Another Christmas family tradition. After a couple of minutes of munching, though…
‘Anyone fancy a mince pie?’ I asked everyone.
‘Ooh, yeah!’ they all agreed.
Well, if you can’t pig out at Christmas when can you? Not that we rationed ourselves normally.
At 5ft 8in, I was a size 20. Graham was a size XXL and had a 42in waist – all 6ft 3in of him.
Even my boy Barry wore XXL t-shirts and squeezed his 6ft 4in frame into 46in waist trousers.
I’d never lost my baby weight after having Barry and, after I was diagnosed with an underactive thyroid, the pounds really piled on. But as the scales crept ever upwards, I simply avoided looking.
And Graham, a maintenance engineer, was my partner in crime. Together eight years, we loved snuggling up, me crunching on packets of cheese and onion crisps while he tucked into a sloppy pie and mash.
He made me feel gorgeous, though. He’d recently proposed and in nine months we’d be tying the knot.
Thinking now about our big day, a twinge of excitement rushed through my belly... or maybe that was just the turkey settling?
Suddenly, Debbie poked her camera our way.
‘Smile!’ she encouraged. A few days later, she popped round to show us the Christmas snaps.
Blimey, who was that?! It couldn’t be…? It was!
Me and Graham, looking like beached whales! Wedged into a black jumper and black trousers, I looked massive. Graham looked just as bad, with his shirt straining to contain his moobs. Talk about Christmas stuffing!
‘I-I look absolutely horrendous!’ I spluttered.
‘My face looks like it’s been injected with five tons of fat!’  Graham whimpered.
I knew we were a bit big, but not this big…!
‘Sorry,’ said Debbie, embarrassed at the fuss her photo had caused.
‘Do we really look that bad?’ I quizzed Barry. Perhaps it was a bad angle, a trick of the light…
‘Umm, well,’ he said sheepishly.
His silence spoke volumes.
‘We need to start dieting,’ Graham nodded. ‘Sharpish!’
‘I’ll second that,’ I mumbled, deflated. ‘I’m not being a blubbery bride!’
‘How did we get like this?’ asked Graham, sadly, that night.
Cocooned in our loved-up little bubble, we just hadn’t seen ourselves the way everyone else did.
‘Don’t worry,’ I hushed. ‘We’ll lose this weight together. That can be our New Year resolution.’
Yep, with the New Year would come a whole new us! We
all hoped…
A few weeks later, Barry said he was joining us, too. He announced that he’d taken a long hard look at himself and realised he had 20 chins.
Guilt washed over me. I’d lavished my boys with hearty roasts but, while Stephen burned off the extra calories skateboarding, the weight clung to Barry. He’d weighed 18st by the time he was 17-years-old.
So in the new year, I did just as I’d resolved and joined the local Lighter Life group. Nervously, I queued up for the weigh-in.
‘15st 6lb!’ the counsellor trilled.
‘What?’ I gulped. ‘Must be all those mince pies…’
For the next 14 weeks, I’d be on a diet of shakes, soups and supplement bars. No more turkey and trimmings, Quality Street, or rich fruit cake.
But would it be worth it?
An hour later, I met Barry and Graham in the corridor. They’d come from work to the men’s weigh-in, and they looked white with shock.
‘I weighed in at 21st 8lb,’ Graham mumbled.
‘And I’m 22st 7lb,’ Barry added.
‘If we keep encouraging each other, we’ll soon be much lighter,’ I insisted.
So family meals were replaced by family shakes. For breakfast, I had a strawberry shake, another for lunch, and at 5pm – back from my care assistant’s job – I’d gulp down vegetable soup, then another shake a few hours later.
‘Let’s all sit in the living room,’ I suggested a few evenings later at dinner time.
What was the point of being around the kitchen table if we didn’t even need plates!
‘This is definitely… erm…different,’ Barry chuckled, as we perched on the sofa, sipping our shakes. But because we were all doing it, drinking our dinner soon felt normal!
And when our bodies began reacting to our new liquid diet, at least we could all commiserate over the headaches.
The following week, at weigh-in, I’d lost 8lb, and Graham and Barry had each lost 12lb!
Even when we went to a party around Debbie’s, we didn’t cheat. ‘No party nibbles for us,’ I insisted, pulling out our shakes from my handbag.
‘White wine, anyone?’ Debbie offered to us all.
‘We’ll just have water,’ Barry and Graham chimed.
Eight weeks later, Graham weighed in at 16st 4lb – 10lb below his target weight. Barry was down to his target of 17st. Between them, they’d lost more than 10st!
‘I’m so proud of you,’ I sobbed.
At my weigh-in, four weeks later: ‘You’ve reached your target – 10st 10lb!’ the counsellor whooped.
I’d lost almost 5st!
‘I couldn’t have done it without you two,’ I insisted.
Gradually we reintroduced normal food back into our meals – yoghurt with strawberries and raisins for breakfast, fruit for lunch, and grilled chicken and veg for dinner.
In September, I walked down the aisle at Hertford register office in a size 14 cream chiffon dress.
‘Gorgeous,’ Graham beamed.
‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ I winked, admiring his slimline dark-brown suit and 38in waist.
Barry, an usher, looked so handsome in his matching suit – and matching 38in waist.
This Christmas, we’ll still have a traditional roast, but it will be half the size of what we had last year!
And so we don’t get too jealous when the rest of the family tuck in, everyone’s made a pact not to buy any chocolates this year.
After all, the family that slims together, stays together!

• Graham says: ‘Seeing that photo was a real kick in the wotsits. But we supported each other on the diet. It made all the difference.’

• Barry says: ‘The diet was easier because I had family support. Plus, Mum didn’t buy anything tempting and there were no cooking smells in the house!’
Tracey Jones, 49, Stevenage, Hertfordshire