All I want for Christmas is… a new body!
Nicola Kiggin, 43, had gone for a fun night out with her friends but it changed everythingé
As the alarm whirred, I looked at the clock. ‘It’s 6.30am,’ I groaned to my
ihusband Billy, as I pulled the pillow over my head. ‘We can’t get up this early on Christmas morning.’ But Billy was full of excitement. ‘You’re like a little kid,’ I grumbled as he kept nudging me.
It was December 2014 and my son Luke, then 12, was staying over at his dad’s house and Billy’s children Bethany, 19, and Jack, 17, had long grown out of running downstairs at the crack of dawn to open presents. And me? Well, at a size 22 and lacking energy, I loved my sleep. In fact, Billy had to resort to setting off the smoke alarm before I relented and heaved myself from beneath the duvet.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’m up.’ And it was then I remembered what I’d promised myself just a week earlier, that this Christmas would be my last hurrah before starting my diet in the new year. ‘I’m really going to enjoy myself,’ I told Billy. ‘Because 2015 will be the start of a new me.’ He’d heard it all before, but Billy didn’t know how hard it could be to cut out your favourite food and stick to a diet.
The big blowout
Moments later, Bethany and Jack walked in bleary-eyed. ‘Happy Christmas,’ they said reaching over for a hug. We sat on the end of the bed chatting before, finally, an hour later we went downstairs to start our celebrations.
Christmas wouldn’t have been Christmas without a drink, so at 9am, I poured myself a glass of beer. Then I emptied a huge bag of crisps and a bag of peanuts and cashews into a bowl and took them to the lounge.
When Luke arrived back from his dad’s I was still in my ladybird-patterned onesie. I settled onto the sofa working my way through the snacks as everyone opened their presents. Afterwards, it was time to start making dinner.
While I began chopping and peeling the veg, I carried on swigging the beers and munching through more crisps. At noon, my parents and Billy’s arrived. I was still in my onesie. ‘There’s no point in changing now,’ I said, shrugging and welcoming them all in. Soon, the delicious smell of turkey was filling the house.
When we finally settled around the dining table, I piled my plate high – ham, beef, and roast turkey, creamy cauliflower cheese and roast potatoes laden in goose fat. Covering it in gravy and bread sauce I already knew I’d be having seconds. After all, I reasoned, this was my last chance. Finally, I retreated back to the sofa with six crackers and six types of cheese to watch the Queen’s speech and Christmas specials.
The nuts and crisps kept coming, and I even polished off the chocolate from the kids’ selection boxes, while tucking into a sandwich of leftovers.
Going to bed that evening I felt like I was going to explode – but it wasn’t
an unusual feeling for me. I liked food. Working in accounts, I’d snack at my desk and then have a large chicken and sweetcorn pizza for supper. I never weighed myself but I was 5ft 2in and my arms, legs and stomach bulged.
Turning point
Up until this year, I tried to convince myself that the weight didn’t bother me. But then, just a few weeks before Christmas, I’d gone out for dinner and drinks with my friends.
I’d worn a size 22 top and elasticated jeans but they’d felt so uncomfortable. Normally, I love to dance but that night I felt too self-conscious to even get up from the table. If I started whirling round the restaurant to Slade and Mariah Carey, I’d really draw attention to myself!
‘Come on, Nicola,’ my friends called from the dance floor. But I batted them away, saying I was waiting for my food to go down. By 10pm I just wanted to go home. ‘Are you OK?’ my friends asked. I nodded, mumbling some excuse about being tired, too ashamed to tell them the truth – that I felt too fat for the party.
The next day my friends started posting photos from our night out on Facebook. There I was, plonked at the dinner table, looking like an over-cooked Christmas pudding.
And that’s when I’d made up my mind. This Christmas would be my last Christmas being fat. After one big indulgence on Christmas Day itself, I would finally get myself healthy.
So, as the new year dawned, I emptied the cupboard of crisps and nuts and signed up to Slimming World near my home in Leigh, Greater Manchester. I was weighed at my first meeting and it horrified me to see the dial reach 16st 8lb. I was given lots of simple diet advice to follow and I also joined a local exercise class. I was seriously out of breath after just the first warm-up, but I told myself I’d always known this wasn’t going to be easy.
A new life
Over the next weeks, I learned to cook easy, low calorie dishes and I began running too. Slowly, the cravings for crisps eased and the weight began to fall away. Billy and the kids supported me and by the following December, I’d lost an incredible 5st. I bought a new figurehugging dress to celebrate and when it was time for our girls’ night out again, I gazed at myself in the mirror and felt so proud. ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve changed,’ my friends all said. ‘You look absolutely terrific.’ On Christmas Day, I kept to lean meat and potatoes fried in a low-cal oil, and swapped my beers for prosecco. And in the two years since I started, I’ve not only managed to keep the weight off, but I’ve lost even more, too! So this Christmas, I’ll be weighing in at 10st 8lb and I feel better about myself than ever. I’ve even become a Slimming World consultant and team developer. We all like to over- indulge a bit at Christmas, but I learned the hard way when enough really is enough!