How To Get Rid Of Belly Fat (Pot Belly) Part 2

A pot belly isn’t built in a day. Or a week for that matter.
In truth it is nurtured and developed over time.

True story… I had a love interest that grudgingly dated me on the condition that I, “develop something in front I can hold unto.”
And she meant it. I was lean and mean those days. The relationship did not end well.

I see you at my local gym. I know you will read this. Thank you.

The African diet is a set up.
It is designed to make you fat. It’s like soul food, it is best just at the point of entry. Otherwise…. Fatty, dangerous, tasty and delicious!!

I’ve always loved it in Europe. Easier to watch what you eat. Variety exists. Calorific value is easier to account for.

But you are where you are now. You are probably overweight and/or have a belly you would rather have flatter or firmer.
You just had a baby and would love to have your stomach flat again. Firmer, tauter than before if possible.

Muscles have memory. It’s easier to reactivate previously tone muscles than to awaken muscles atrophied- for lack of a better adjective.
My point is that if you have not worked out all your life, it’s going to be hard to start.

If you are female and partial to diets, same difference.

So, what to do?

Firstly, surgery. Cosmetic surgery. Nip and tuck.
Liposuction… Gastric bypass… Whatever.
Quick fix your gut.
If you can afford it that is. And till the next child drops in, or indiscipline kicks in.

Secondly, mediate.
Slimming teas, tablets, pills, fat binders… Etcetera.
Careful though. Some of those things will kill you. Do your research first. Consult your doctor.

Thirdly, work out.
Tiresome. Painful. Physical and psychological discipline required.

Fourthly, diet. Watch what you eat and drink. Watch whatever goes into your mouth.

Fifthly, ‘Ef’ it! You’re beautiful just the way you are. Someone, somewhere loves you regardless. Or… You’re comfortable in your skin. It bothers you not. It’s the natural response to age or prosperity (or indiscipline).

Sixthly, (these ‘lys’ are starting to sound wrong… Sigh… You get my point though? No? Fret not, it’ll come to you) a medley of all the above.
A salad of all the ‘lys’.
A mix-tape.
A ‘jack-of-all-trades…’

Finally, die.
Go to heaven, hell or whatever you believe your afterlife to be. Be free of all the hassle of being what is not you.
Give up. Be free.

I favour the sixth ‘ly’.
It worked for me.
I have a few people that love me just as I am.
I watch what I eat; low fat, as little carbohydrates as I can manage. Sadly, I drink whatever, and eat whenever. But I’m still on point because I work out. A lot.

I have never been fat. Or grossly overweight. I don’t beat myself up investigating BMI and all what not… I just try to be fit. And muscular. And lean. And sexy.

1) don’t work out at home alone. Get your closeted behind to a gym. Get inspired there or corrected when you’re erroneously killing yourself/body part.
2) start off each session with at least thirty minutes on a treadmill or cardio session or whatever raises your heart rate significantly. Whatever physical exercise (no not sex perv) makes you sweat.
3) pick up weights. You lose pounds faster. No ladies, you aren’t likely to develop muscles. You have hormones and estrogen in particular. Please stop being lazy and argumentative. Thank you.
4) gym membership is a lifestyle. It’s not a quick fix. It should be for life.
5) Lipo 6 Black. Hydroxycut. Green Tea extracts etc… Are popular weight loss pills you can safely use to JumpStart the weight loss process. I used it to lose the first ten pounds. Been legitimately working the rest off ten years (and counting) now.
6) there is a weight gain trigger in us all. For you, candy. For Debra, alcohol. For Andy, carbohydrates. Know yours and abstain accordingly.
7) the stomach muscle is flat. It’s not bunched line like your bicep or thigh. It’s easy to distend from overeating. It’s also easy to subdue via targeted exercises.
8) posture! Keep your stomach taut. Like breathing, it will soon be reflex. It’s your first rule actually. Hold the belly in, 24/7!
9) drink water regularly. Hydrate. Just plain water. Hold that silly question on the water!
Thank you.
Just. Plain. Water.
Thank you.

I think I’m done now.


Zainab Ahmed

She died quite tragically over a decade ago.

Quite literally in my arms. The details; I choose to have selective amnesia about. Suffice it to say that her passing was tragic. In deed and indeed.

What I can tell you about her though, is that she was slim. Lithe. Yet well-endowed. The compound adjective a couple of words back, only obvious to one other person alive, apart from Zainab…and maybe the persons that performed her final bathing (Islamic) rites.

The thing about Zainab was convoluted. she was larger than life. You only needed to see her once, you would remember her forever. I knew her better than most.

I have been out of town a few days now. Just flew in hours ago.

For security reasons, I cannot say where I have been. She died in that town. The town had roads, alleys, streetlights, and people though. If that helps.

I am bit of a fitness nut, so every evening at about 8 p.m, I would take brisk thirty-minute walks.

I have been away since Thursday. I commenced my ‘spirited’ routine on Friday.

Yesterday, as the days before, I had just jogged across a busy road, rife with unreasonable motorists, kept the pace under a flyover, scanned my right for oncoming traffic in a microsecond, and covered that road in a few seconds. i decelerated into my power-walk as soon as my Nike’s touched the sidewalk.

I had by now approached a hard right, so I slowed. The second I turned the corner, my hairs prickled. Maybe it was because the street was dark? No! Something was off. I slowed even more and narrowed my eyes as my visual purple readjusted slowly to the poor lighting.

Then I saw her. Walking just in front of me. I know Zainab’s sashay. I know that plain, white t-shirt. I knew that black skirt and the way she wore her braided hair. Above all, my nose knows. It never fails me. I know that particular whiff of Gold Oudh…it was made specifically for her. It is not commercially available.

Light-headed and hyperventilating, I walked on, following. She was about two meters ahead and turned right suddenly. I was at that intersection in about three seconds.

It was a dead end! My original path lay ahead. i halted and stared in awe,

‘Zee?’ I remember calling out. her fragrance still hung heavy in the one meter by one meter dead end.

Nothing. Zilch.

I slowly turned back the way I came.

And for the first time in twenty three years, and finally, I wept for Zainab. I mourned her passing finally.

R.I.P Zee…

I don’t know what yesterday was about Zee, but, I see you.