The Bearded Belly Chronicles-Chapter Seven : From Poolside Panic to Fast-Food Follies: A Week of Lessons Learned

The Bearded Belly Chronicles-Chapter Seven : From Poolside Panic to Fast-Food Follies: A Week of Lessons Learned

In the Numbers

Starting weight: 159.7kg
Weight last Friday: 146.1kg
Weight today: 145.7 kg

This week, I fasted for 133 hours and 2 minutes. In that time, I could have watched the entire MCU in chronological order once and made it 43 minutes into Ant-Man on my second run, which is enough for:

Meanwhile, I drank 31.3 Liters of water, which is enough to:

• Refill Groot's flowerpot 625 times

And all this talk about the MCU I've been sitting here, trying to snap my fingers and have a Greggs sausage roll Appear.

The Pool, The Panic, and The Truffle Shuffle

Friday Afternoon: The Hotel Check-In

A short drive to the hotel for our 14- year anniversary and I had booked a lovely room. I had done a very good job if I say so myself.

But let's get to the real reason you're here.

The Battle Begins

My bum had barely hit the bed when the doughnut devil appeared, licking his lips, ready to sow doubt in my mind.

"You don't want to go in the pool."
"Everyone is going to look at you."
"You will put people off their relaxing time."
"Who wants to see all those rolls?"

The words slithered into my brain like an unwanted earworm. I sat, staring at the floor. I knew how the evening would go if I let that voice win....me, stuck in the hotel room, making excuses, while Jess went alone.

That was not happening.

I stood up, fists clenched. Like Earth's mightiest Avenger, I had to make a stand. Cue a scene straight out of Bruce Almighty......clothes flying, trunks snapping on, and suddenly, I was standing there, ready for battle.

Battle One: Won.

The Long Walk to the Spa

The spa was so far from our room, it felt like a different postcode. On the walk? That's when my brain decided to go rogue.

Suddenly, the world turned grainy, like an old film reel. Jess....who in reality was minding her own business.... transformed into a prison warden, baton in hand, marching me toward my fate.

"Fat man, fat man walking!"

She never actually said it.

But in my head? She might as well have been leading me down death row.

The Final Boss: The Pool Entrance

The moment we entered the pool area, the weight of every single stare hit me. Of course, nobody was actually looking.

But in my mind? They were.

Every set of eyes turned in horror as the big man dared to enter the sacred spa zone. I hesitated.

Deep breath.

I peeled off my top and, before my brain could protest, I truffle shuffled my way into the water. Shoulders submerged; I exhaled.

Maybe, just maybe, if I stayed low enough, the rippling water would act like an underwater Photoshop filter, distorting me just enough to make this bearable.

But I couldn't relax. I scanned the room, waiting for a look, a whisper, a judgment or a snigger.

Then Jess turned to me.

"I know that was not easy for you, but I massively appreciate you doing this because you knew I wanted to."

I stopped. My heart swelled.

At that moment, I realised something. This wasn't about the pool. It wasn't about what strangers thought.

It was about showing up.

For Jess.

For me.

For us.

Mission accomplished.

 

Greggs, Giggles, and the Calm Before the Collapse

We woke up and had breakfast in the hotel... an all-you-can-eat full English. I wouldn't have minded if the restaurant had been as far away as the spa. Might have burned off a sausage or two.

But it was time to tuck in earlier than my fasting window dictated.

Did I care? Not one bit.

We were just being us. Not mum and dad. Not problem solvers. Just a couple having a moment together.

Then, reality called.

The Kids Return & The Plan Falls Apart

We picked the kids up from my mum's, and the plan was simple:

✅ Quick food shop
✅ Haircuts for the boys
✅ NOTHING ELSE

But after a night at my mum's, masking all their emotions, the boys might crash hard. And they did.

Tommy exploded.

Violence. Screaming. Shouting.

Every plan? Cancelled.

We split up. Jess and Ewan went to the play park. I took Tommy to fill up the car. Just to remove him from the situation. And just like that? He was regulated again.

By the time we met up with Jess and Ewan who had walked into town to have a Costa, he was calm.

"Dad, can I have Greggs?" so....

Greggs it was.

Full English and Greggs in the same day?

Did I care? Nope.

No noise. No panic. No guilt.

We pivoted. Instead of forcing a stressful day on out Sunday, we changed the plan.

Yes, Day Becomes Movie Marathon

While we were in town, we popped into CEX, and each picked a film for Sunday. (this was amazing loads of DVDs for £1 took me and Jess back to blockbuster days as kids) 

Then, we went all in:

✔️ Mattresses and blankets in the living room
✔️ Handmade tickets
✔️ Kitchen transformed into a snack bar

Nachos. Sweets. Popcorn the lot. 

I was not hungry, so no temptation. No need to eat just for the sake of it.

Then came lunch. Hot dogs.

We settled in for film number two.

Then a family walk before the final film of the day.

And dinner? Domino's.

But here's where something changed. Normally, I'd polish off a large pizza, a side, and a bottle of pop.

But this time?

I shared a medium pizza with Tommy. We shared sides as a family.

That was a win.

And the boy's haircuts?  They Never happened.

They are starting to look like an unkempt Forrest Gump.

Minus the beard, obviously.

For a moment, I let myself relax into the calm. 

It's funny how the smallest victories can make you think the war is won. A good weekend, a few conscious choices, and suddenly I felt invincible. But comfort is a sneaky little thing it lulls you in, pats you on the back, and whispers, you've got this. And then? It lets go just as you loosen your grip.

I didn't know that the trap had been set.

And I was about to walk straight in.

The Fall

Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday.

No noise. No angst about food. Seven days without the doughnut-shaped devil whispering in my ear constantly about food.

He was there. Hiding Waiting plotting his next move.

And he was about Ready to strike.

The Binge

Thursday. A three-hour drive back from up north.

And somehow, I found myself sitting in a McDonald's car park.

Staring at the wrappers.

Not just McDonald's wrappers.

KFC wrappers.

KFC—I didn't even remember eating just moments before.

The Damage: A meal that could probably feed a small village.

• McDonald's: Large Big Mac Meal, Mozzarella Dippers, Large Coke
• KFC: Large Double Down Box Meal, 2 Hot Wings, Large Cherry Pepsi Max, Flaming Wrap, Dipped Bites

I felt him there. Watching me. Laughing.

Mocking the fact that I thought I was winning.

That I had beaten him.

That he had been defeated.

He had never left.

I felt awful. I didn’t even know why I had done it.

Not until the next day. After talking with a friend about our battles with food, I realised I had the answers all along. I just hadn't seen them yet.

I've told you about my water.

I've told you about my vitamins and how they help.

But one thing about being suspected neurospicy....I crave routine, yet I struggle to keep to it.

I hyper-focus on things. Then, just as quickly, I lose interest and drop my hobbies, goals, and plans like a bad penny.

One of the tools that had been keeping me grounded was my to-do list. A simple app on my phone.

It reminded me to do everything. To brush my teeth, complete household jobs, read for 30 minutes a day.

And I had followed it devoutly. More devoutly than the Reverend Mother in Sister Act when she prayed.

But because I had been feeling good, I let it slip.

The routine faded away like the sands of time.

Two months of habit....gone. Days without even looking at the app, let alone ticking things off and keeping my life on track.

And that's when the Donut Devil strikes.

Rebuckling the Seatbelt

That Night, I was still ashamed. I started wondering how long I'd have to fast to undo the damage.

The old voice whispered:

"You deserve this. You messed up. You need to pay for it."

But on the drive to Essex in the morning, something shifted.

A long, hard talk with myself.

"You've been here before. You know this cycle. Are you about to do this again?"

Some quiet reflection.

A bit of prayer.

And it pulled me back.

I had gotten cocky.

I thought I was further along than I really was. That I could unbuckle the safety belt.

But I'm not there yet.

And that's okay!

✅ No crash landings.
✅ No more letting go of the wheel. 

It's about that +1 one mindset I’ve been knocked down but I’m back in control after dusting myself off to face a new day.

I am writing this on Thursday evening, with a big weekend ahead.

We are celebrating my sister turning 50, and I am apprehensive about what the scales will say tomorrow.

But I am determined.

This weekend, there will be freedom to enjoy myself.

But routines will be part and parcel of it.

Not an afterthought.

Not a restriction.

Just a tool to keep me on track.

What about you?
Have you ever let a routine slip, only to realise too late that it was the glue holding everything together?
Ever found yourself wondering how the hell did I get here—whether it’s in a McDonald’s car park or somewhere else you never meant to be?
Drop a comment. Send me a message. Tell me your story.
We’re in this together.
Until next time, keep your seatbelt fastened.
Ian