With the pain in my foot under control, I am looking more and more at my body. I controlled my body in a time of emotional crisis and managed to lose weight I felt so much better without. But as I have worked on my emotional health, I have felt able to lessen that control and the weight has crept back on.

I can literally feel the weight on my bones, because my bones have to work harder to mobilise that weight. I have learnt that for me it isn’t actually the number the scales shows that evidences how healthy I am. It is how easy it is to move, how I feel in my clothes, when I see my reflection in the mirror.

I’ve long had that magic number in my head, except I did reach a point where I was happy with my body, and it wasn’t close to the magic number at all, it was about half-a-stone above in fact.

Realistically, I think I have about a stone to lose to be back feeling at peace with my body. But not feeling able to walk, I haven’t, I confess, been looking at what I’m eating at all, seeking comfort through the cold and pain with food instead.

It is suggested in research that people who have cerebral palsy use anywhere between 2 to 5 times more energy than an able bodied person, dependent on the level of severity in their diagnosis. I am no closer to understanding if that translates to calories, but I doubt it because otherwise it would not have been so easy for me to put on 12lb since my lowest weight in summer 2022.

I completely get that 12lb does not sound like much, but when you’ve spent the intervening 18 months yo-yo-ing from one end of that figure, to halfway, but never close to that lower end again, it’s hard. When 12lb is the difference to being happy in a body you’ve had so many reasons to despise in all your years on Earth and finally feeling that you honestly look good in the clothes you are wearing, it is important.

Not having been able to walk since New Year, I fear about my ability to keep fit, My options are limited anyway because of my capabilities. I don’t have the feet, knees or balance to run, I cannot swim.

So, on Sunday, I headed to a local reuse shop and using the last of some money my mother in law gifted me for Christmas, I bought an exercise bike. It now sits at the end of our couch, so I don’t even have to forego a Netflix binge.

My right leg is stronger and does most of the work, but somehow my weaker left seems able to follow its lead and complete the motion, which is incredible to me. However, it cannot be denied that the burden of exercise falls on my right side because I get a very real, actual pain in the bum, my glutes waking up for the first time since I got a trike when we get to Center Parcs back in 2021.

But, it is something. I managed 6 minutes yesterday so have hit upon the idea of trying to add a minute to my attempt every day.

Today, I have managed two 7 minute sessions and I haven’t needed to go outside.

Feeling back in control. Yay.