back up blog

On Sunday afternoon I wondered what, exactly, the repercussions of public nudity might be. I stood in a field of yellow rape seed , bared shoulders shrouded by a floor-length kimono that was a gift from my father to Mama Janie about twenty years ago, after a business trip to Japan. He was always going to Japan on business, my dad. I was *almost* ready to drop it -- but, I think you can get arrested for public indecency, can’t you? I wondered what I would do if I happened across an unclothed twenty-seven year old in the bushes. I don’t know if I’d laugh, or cry. I loosened the fabric around my shoulders and listened to the voice behind the camera. ‘Okay then,’ she said. ‘And now let it fall a little to reveal your sides. Yup – just like that. Perfect. And a little more…?’ I shuddered against the cold and let the gown disappear towards the soil. And just like that I was naked in the Cambridge countryside, nothing but a sultry gaze and an icy breeze adorning my frame. Project #strongandse

When I said that I wanted to shed 38 pounds and train for a 10k race , it was so that I could reclaim my body -- how I relate to my form, how I feel about myself. I declared want for STRONG and SEXY, because after finding myself on the obese section of my doctor’s BMI chart, I realised, with the kind of startling clarity that stings at the eyes and aches the throat, that I was treating my body like utter shite. And, suddenly, that was not okay. I wasn’t even sure if I liked my body any more. If I did, surely I’d be treating it better than scoffing enough calories a day to balloon to a UK dress size 16. Eleven and a half weeks ago I weighed 181 pounds – 12 stones 9lbs, or 82+ kilos. Today I weigh 145 pounds: 5 pounds off of my target weight, and a healthy BMI, but 35 pounds better off than I was. Last weekend I tried on a series of size 8-10 clothes and squealed at the tightness of my waist, the gentle slope of my hips. I got changed in front of my bedroom mirror – the same mirror where