I was never the sporty type.
I was the chubby teenager who conveniently forgot her PE kit, especially for athletics and cross country.
If I did have to wear my gym knickers, I would insist on wrapping my school cardigan around my waist to prevent my wobbly thighs being on show.
And, the day, they got out the trampoline, I never went on it. The fear that I would fall through.
As a child, I was fairly active, doing child stuff, such as skating, biking, hula hooping, elastics, marbles and a little bit of swimming. My parents were not overly active, Dad was in the army and my mum was a stay at home mum. We lived in Germany. My mum liked to cycle and sometimes we would go for long rides – well, compared to today, they were not long, but then, they felt like forever.
I loved to eat and my mum was a bit of a feeder – so I ended up equally wide as I was tall.
I did like playing netball. Or did I? I was tall, conveniently tall to defend, so I would play Goal Keeper. The only issue with playing netball, was, that I had to wear a short skirt.
When I was 17, I was off to play netball and my mum remarked on my fat thighs.
That was the turning point.
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