It's the one thing that will get me to spring like a chicken (who says I am am no Spring Chicken?) downstairs in search of oats and an assortment of fruit, nuts, seeds, and any assorted roughage I can lay my hands on. (Sounding more like a chicken with every word I write.) Not wildly exciting, I assure you, but seems to keep me going until about 11.30 when peckishness (help, I'm a hen!!) creeps in, and an early lunch becomes appealing.
We've always been told that missing breakfast is bad for you: "Breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and supper like a pauper," was a favourite saying of my late mother-in-law.
So as a concept it has evidently been around for a while... Further digging reveals that it was a marketing ruse over a hundred years ago by Mr Kellogg to sell more of his cereal.
But guess what? I read this week that there is no evidence to suggest that a hearty breakfast is going to slow the intake of calories over the rest of the day. In fact, if you want to lose weight you should skip breakfast altogether. Bleak news indeedy.
The only time I have the full English breakfast is when we are staying in hotels. I have the works. If it's on the menu, I find room for it.
I never learn. It's totally debilitating. Go sightseeing? No, not on your Nelly!
I need to find a small quiet corner with the newspapers to let that lot settle. But I don't want lunch (sometimes ever again) after a huge breakfast, so I balance the calorie intake that way, I fondly imagine.
Calorie-counting, however, is futile over Easter, so I am going to succumb to temptation while the great white Easter bunny flies over us laying chocolate eggs (another modern miracle of marketing) and peck up the pieces of my over-indulgence on Tuesday. Happy Easter, she clucked.
No comments:
Post a Comment