Finding peace with the middle-aged spread

I have an important meeting. An opportunity to wear my £350 black suit that I save for special occasions. I am feeling good as I pull on my trousers. All I have to do is button up and admire myself in the mirror. Hang on, something feels wrong. Can suit trousers shrink if you leave them hanging up for too long? I look in the mirror and see a tortured sausage being squeezed out of its skin as my belly hangs out to say hello.

Where did this belly come from? The suit was a good fit six months ago. I did a marathon in February – 26 miles and was ill for three weeks afterwards! I go to the gym and run regularly but somehow this is not enough to keep the middle-aged spread within the waistline. Being slim is part of my identity and integral to my confidence. It means I am not the chubby kid or the love-handled university student.

The last time this happened was the summer before my third year of my journalism degree. I could not button up my jeans, discovering the scientific anomaly of big bum in black jeans. I did not own any trainers so I ran up and down the stairs of my family home for about a minute. That was some tough cardio. But life goes on and you cannot hide until you are drop dead gorgeous again. Even back in 2000 it was annoying how many photos were taken, so it must be a nightmare now.

Back then, I did not run or even think I could. I swam and wrote about my battle against the bulge for a journalism assignment which I read out in a seminar to applause. Academically, I might have been a 2.2 student, but when it came to creative writing I could go toe-to-toe with anyone and still can. If I could write about it, I could live with it and do something about it.

My heaviest weight was 14 stone not 21 stone and I am aware that other people have struggles with their weight and body image. I can only talk about my experience and do my bit to make society tolerant of all shapes and sizes. If you are feeling low, listen to Ugly by the SugaBabes for a reminder there is nothing wrong with you.

Dislocating my knee in the last week of my final year at university put me out of action for a while which did not help my fitness or jobhunting. After countless rejections and running out of money, I got a job as a retail assistant in Debenhams. One of my former university friends accidentally texted me, calling me a loser, which he claimed was a ruse. It certainly was, I lost almost two stone walking the shop floor hanging out clothes and making the decision to never work in retail again. I was a massive loser and developing OCD continued the weight loss as I sweated away more weight in sheer panic.

Jobs you don’t want and mental health conditions that almost destroy you can have unexpected benefits. However, it is imperative that you maintain a positive attitude about your weight and not let it consume you. After failing to button my suit trousers two weeks ago, I ate two pistachio croissants from Waitrose and had a nice sausage bap the next day. I was hungry and my belly could wait. I might be charismatic enough to make suit jacket and jogging bottoms work or urban enough to have sagging trousers hanging below my boxer shorts.

I bought this suit for my dad’s funeral two years ago. I looked smart that day, the closest I could get to a custom made suit. I felt like an adult, a man. This week I walked into Moss Bros to have an enjoyable conversation with the woman working there about the distribution of body fat in our middle age and the impact it has on our wardrobes and wallets.

The material used for my suit is no longer in stock. I am praying that an alteration of 1.5 inches each side will be enough to give me comfort. While I am a fan of the circular economy and donations, I am not ready to give up on my £350 suit.

When I collect my trousers, I will be handing over my jacket.