Belly is gonna get ya

I recall seeing an advert on TV, where a large pink belly bounced along as it chased people out for a run. The slogan was along the line of "belly gonna get ya" and the running was a way to get away from it. This was probably just about the time when running trainers had suddenly moved from being a specialist footware to avant gaude fashion. Worn by every Tom, Dick and Harry because they looked good and no matter what they were really meant for. I suppose the advertising was a major success. But in my mind it belittled the importance and significance of running shoes. As they are really meant for people who try to keep fit. I hope it's not being snobbery. Needless to say I have never bought a pair of trainers from the company who did this advertising. For when these trainers became a fashion accessory their research and design as a running tool had to be dropped for their eye candy value.

It's unfortunate you have to put on a few years in age to understand how advertisers and fashion trends are just ploys to help you depart from hard earned cash. Once beyond this point, functionality become all important. Like wearing a shirt. The patterns look good, but does it cover up my belly I ask. If the answer is yes it's doing it's job. If no, then I'm a fat git who needs to diet and exercise more. But the thing is I like food, I just love it. Especially eating it, and this is the most difficult thing to overcome. As Anne Widicombe (an overweight British politician) said when she was asked to write a book on dieting but refused because she just didn't have the time. Her words were along the lines of, it would be a short book and "eat less, exercise more." She had lost quite a few pounds in weight at this time after a TV series.

My niece today passed a compliment. As I sat on the settee, she said she was going to have a jibe at my belly but looked at it and realised it wasn't as big as normal. Saying she could see the difference. I didn't tell her how I'd pulled in my belt a bit tighter, but did mention I'd given her my Easter egg instead of eating it myself. So I am a little happier than normal, and just maybe if I can carry on getting fit I can do something really good with it. Raise money for a charity by perhaps running a race of some kind. I'll not mention the M word. Not yet, not while the belly is listening anyway. Now where did I put my biscuits?