Trisha Lewis - Trishas Transformation

BEAT THE BULGE
AND STILL INDULGE

GILL BOOKS

They say that you should never meet your heroes. Well, I am so lucky to meet mine every single day.

This book is for you, Mam. For being my strength when I was weak. No matter how many times I tell you I love you, I will always love you more. I am a strong woman because a strong woman raised me. Forever your favourite child, hands down Trisha

A mothers love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do what they thought was the impossible.

Contents





Lucys communion It was my first time wearing a dress without tights!

The Jacobs gang.

My butter towers!

Doing some elevated squats in the gym.

Introduction

Hello! You have bought my book and that was your first mistake! Let me introduce myself. My name is Trisha Lewis and I run the Instagram page @trishas.transformation. I come seventh in a large family of nine sisters and I have 12 nieces and nephews, with another on the way.

When I was a young girl, I worked part-time in a restaurant at home called The Hunters Rest. The head chef Rob guided me and showed me how to cook and respect food from a young age. In a household of 11 there was always someone hungry, so I have always enjoyed feeding people. I started my professional cookery course in CIT and from there I got my job in the mad busy Cork restaurant Jacobs on the Mall. Im now the Executive Head Chef there.

I am currently fighting the battle of beating the bulge, but I love my life I spend most of my days smiling and having fun. My life hasnt always been amazing, though. When I stood on the scales in February 2018 and saw 26 stone on the display, I knew I had hit rock bottom. Since then I have lost 8 stone and each day, I am changing my life for the better.

I wanted to write this book to share my story the ups and downs of a radical weight-loss programme. I wanted to help anyone who may have been in my position and show them that you have never gone too far. I have myself come from being depressed and not wanting to wake up to now going to sleep excited for the next day to dawn.

The recipes that I have chosen are simple, tasty and cost-effective. I picked them because I find the food you need to eat in the typical diets boring and non-sustainable. I would like to lose weight, but I do not want to lose flavour. I hope that people reading this book will be able to learn more about the old Trisha and hopefully follow in my footsteps. I hope that any reader whos been in my position will look at changing their lives with a positive attitude and fill their days with more laughter. It hasnt been the easiest thing baring my truth, but it has been so uplifting. Know that we are all in this mad life together. Lets be kind not cruel. Lets move on from past mistakes and reset. Lets beat the bulge.



Early signs

I have been sitting here for quite some time and Im going to be honest. This is tough. Remembering the past and the negative side of it can be sometimes so difficult and it is still raw. What feelings do I feel when I think back? Hurt. Shame. Regret. Embarrassment.

Ill start from the very start. I grew up on a dairy farm in the countryside with my mam, dad and eight sisters. My dominant childhood memory of home is pure and utter craic. We spent our days playing games, setting up cubby houses, cycling, terrorising each other and giving Mam heart failure as we waved at her from the tallest tree we could find. We sat and we watched game shows, we told on each other when we caught each other cursing, we borrowed items from each others rooms. The house was full to the brim with unconditional love. Dad lived his life surrounded by 10 women and its no surprise to any of us that he cant hear a thing. He was the man who taught me to read at three years of age and the man who from the very start of this journey has encouraged me. He stayed at home to milk the cows so Mam could come to The Late Late Show with me (for more on that see )! He has always been there for me, through thick and thin. As for my mam, shes the best mother in the world and also my best friend and I am so grateful to have her in my life. She is one in a million and always puts her daughters before herself a true superhero!

I guess when I look back now the signs were always there that I was an overeater. When I was six years old, I experienced raw pain for the first time when I lost my beloved nana. I know that I associated Nana with food my earliest memory is sitting on the swing with a big box of Pringles as I convinced nana I was too sick to go to school. She always overruled Mam! Another memory I have is of me being in Nanas kitchen where she gave me a Black Jack bar. After a few minutes of chewing I turned to her and showed her my black tongue and I told her I was dying. She freaked out! The poor woman was 82 and terrified that she had poisoned me. I nearly choked laughing. Every morning Id wake up and race up to Nanas house where she lived with my aunt Babe and my uncle Ned. I would go straight in and I would close the curtains, unplug the phone from the wall and make Nana sit down while I operated an incredibly busy call centre where she had to call out all the numbers from the phone book. The woman had the patience of a saint and adored the ground I walked on. To this day when I dial numbers at work, I never need to look at the keypad after my intense training as a four-year-old. Once my busy morning was over, we would sit down and she would feed me my dinner of spuds, boiled chicken and Hot Cup soup. After dinner I would raid her sweet press and eat chocolate and drink ginger ale while watching The Den and cuddling up to her and her dogs. I can safely identify that here is where my problems with having a huge appetite started. I would go back down home, and I would never tell Mam that I had eaten at Nanas and I would sit down and have another dinner.

When I lost Nana, I still kept up my eating habits as that felt like my secret normal. Whenever Mam would put up dinner, I would always heap my plate and take as much as I could. There was never a shortage of food, but I always had a sense of panic that I wouldnt have enough because I was missing out on Nanas dinners. Many a time I would grab an extra spud and eat it secretly. When I was in secondary school, I would try and get up earlier than my next older sister Annie to cook sausages for breakfast but I would put on an extra two or three for me and gobble them before she came down. My biggest problem all my life has been secret eating like this.