Blaise Tapp: I’m glad I’m not part of the wider problem of obesity anymore
When I lost three stone in weight earlier this year, I promised myself as well as those long-suffering souls who read my weekly wafflings, that I wouldn't be a diet bore.
There's nothing worse than a former fatty standing on a soap box – although, to be fair, it would probably take my weight now - and dishing out advice to all and sundry. After all, nobody wants slimming tips from someone who resembled Billy Bunter's slightly more rotund older brother little more than 12 months ago.
I’d like to think that I’ve largely succeeded, given that nobody has drowned me in a vat of my beloved fat free yoghurt or stuffed one of my many Pinch of Nom books where the sun will never, ever shine.
However, I’m in danger of joining the ‘you are what you eat brigade’ because I find myself agreeing with those in the House of Lords who think that junk food should be subject to both specific taxes and an advertising ban. Companies making such foods will be banned from advertising their products on television and online before 9pm next year but a Lords’ report believes this isn’t enough and that there should be a complete ban by 2029.
This along with the recommendation to levy a new tax, is among a number of suggested measures that politicians think will serve as a better alternative to weight-loss jabs, which have soared in popularity in recent years.
Calling for tighter restrictions on the fast and convenience food industry is nothing new as there has been pressure on our political leaders to tackle the cause of our obesity crisis for years, but the cries of ‘nanny state’ always seem to prevail over what seems like common sense measures. Fortunately, rather like the tedious insult ‘snowflake’, ‘nanny state’ is very rarely used by anyone with more than one O-level because there is a growing recognition that Governments are required to intervene.
With two or three adults either overweight or obese, doing nothing isn’t an option as the nation is waddling towards a genuine health crisis, which could pile even more pressure on our NHS. While I didn’t lose weight for any other reason that I was embarrassed to wear 42-inch waist jeans and concerned about being out of breath every time I climbed the stairs, I now see that my former lifestyle was part of a, excuse the pun, wider problem.
While I certainly don’t want to be the boring bloke at parties who drones on about his calorie intake, I’m also glad that I’m no longer part of a grim statistic.