You are never too old to change your life!
Stephney Hornblow, a retired admin support worker, thought she’d missed out on her chance to slim, but…
As I slowly walked up the lane to my friend’s house, my thighs rubbing together with each step, I had to stop to catch my breath. Gasping for air and bent double, I knew I needed to change. I was 63, a size 24, and loathed not only how fat I looked but how it was affecting my health.
I’d been diagnosed with an underactive thyroid 15 years earlier, which gave me a green light to gorge. I felt there was no point in trying to be slim, as I’d reached a ‘certain’ age where weight gain was almost inevitable.
I’d stuff breakfast straight from the packet into my mouth, snap a biscuit in half and fool myself it didn’t count, because the calories had somehow ‘fallen out’.
I’d eat massive portions of home-cooked, fatty food and think I was healthy because it wasn’t a takeaway. I told myself, ‘ You’re fat anyway, so what does a bit more matter?’
After the diagnosis of my thyroid problem, my weight went up from 12st to 16st. At just 5ft 7in tall, that made me morbidly obese.
I started avoiding mirrors and hid my bathroom scales. But that day, when even a gentle walk with a friend was too much, I knew it was time to get my head out of the sand.
A few months later, in January 2016, I had to go to my GP to get a skin tag on my neck removed, and I mentioned my fitness. I was referred to a heart assessment clinic, where tests showed that I had worryingly high blood pressure.
I was prescribed statins, beta blockers and low-dose aspirin, and I panicked. My sister, Mary, had died of a massive heart attack the previous year, aged 64.
My own 64th birthday was just six months away and, with two children, a grandchild and my amazing husband, Tim, to be thankful for, I was terrified of suffering the same fate as my sister.
I vowed that I wasn’t too old to make the change and lose weight. I told my dear friend, Rachel, about my problem, and she said we should lose weight together with the online Rosemary Conley plan.
It really wasn’t anything radical. I had a ‘miracle’ – home-made almond muffin – for breakfast, home-made soup for lunch, then a healthy meal at night.
I reduced my carbs, completely cut out snacking and, crucially, I became more mindful about what I ate. I found that keeping a food diary really helped.
Returning to the hospital six weeks later, I’d lost 12lb. My consultant said I could throw away all the tablets I’d been prescribed and advised that I just had to carry on doing what I was doing.
But, while I felt I’d dodged a bullet, I had the bit between my teeth now and wanted to carry on losing weight – to really be the person I knew I could be.
My son, Jonathan, who is a fitness enthusiast, told me to start cycling. I hadn’t ever ridden further than to the local shops, and that had been decades ago. When he suggested the target of riding a tandem with him on a trek the full length of Britain, from Land’s End to John O’Groats, I openly laughed!
It seemed a crazy idea but, buoyed with confidence from my new diet and my daily three-and-a-half-mile walks around our Staffordshire village with my friend, Gill, I thought, ‘ Why not?’
So, Jonathan helped me choose a bike, I donned some rather tight Lycra garments and started training. While I was still very overweight and far from fit, the real key to my motivation was the support I had from my friends and family. I loved the new feeling