Slipper Camp

I have precisely ten days to get fit for an unexpected trip to LA – not only will everyone be lissome and lithe but because it will be warm I need to get back into my summer clothes, having already put on a bit of extra podge to keep me insulated through the winter. Panic stations!

I was initially tempted to sign up for a daily boot camp run by a marine at the local airbase. But on reflection I realised it was going to be a) expensive b) time comsuming c) exhausting and d) hideous. Chances are that I would bail out after a few days, finding any excuse not to turn up and be forced through a series of lunges, squats and boxing moves that would make me want to throw up. I would end up broke, demoralised and still overweight.

So I’ve devised my own Slipper Camp – a ten day plan that involves luxury foods and gentle but enjoyable exercise that will fit into my life. Not torture or deprivation, but a healthy eating regime and lots of fun. I’ve stuffed the fridge with superfoods that I really like – salmon, sweet potatoes, turkey, avocado, broccoli, blueberries, yoghurt – and I can eat as much of them as I want, supplemented by lentils, chickpeas, pumpkin seeds, porridge oats and almonds. No weighing or calorie counting or wierd scientific rules to follow. I am trying to avoid the obvious villains – bread, biscuits, cake, crisps, white wine – but I am allowed dark chocolate and red wine.

To go with that I have planned out some form of physical exercise every day – not a sweat-inducing boxercise class or a gruelling run, but something enjoyable, like a long walk on the beach, a bike ride with the kids, or a trip to the swimming pool. I’ve even booked a ride over Exmoor, and this morning the boys and I are going to do the Ministry of Sound workout DVD in the living room.

It’s day three and already I feel fitter and more toned and my clothes feel a little less snug. I know I’m not going to have a dramatic ten pound weight loss like some draconian diets promise, but at least I am having fun and I won’t give up. Not only that, but the weight I do lose will probably stay off, and I am more likely to stick to my ‘Slipper Camp’ regime afterwards.

Slowly does it!

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About peter

'Death by Sushi' Fish can kill me. When I was very small (maybe 3 or 4 years old) my grandfather, who lost the sight of one eye from a bullet fired by a German sniper (fortunately not a very good one) during the Battle of the Somme in World War 1, wiped my face with the corner of his apron, an apron he had used to wipe his filleting knife on. He was a grocery shopkeeper who specialized in wet fish.