FROM BORING TO SOARING

For Becki Keightley, 49, losing weight seemed impossible, but so did flying!

Sitting down to breakfast, I eyed up the plate in front of me. Sausages, bacon, fried eggs, beans, mushrooms, hash browns and buttered toast... there was nothing better than a full English to start the day. The perks of being married to a chef!

I'd met Martin, then 43, in 2009, when he was the head chef at the hotel where I worked in Eastbourne.

I'd been a single mum of three, working as a housekeeper, and the two of us hit it off over our biggest passion... food. Martin loved cooking, and I loved eating.

‘Let me cook for you,’ Martin had said. He made the best steak and chips, and his recipes won my heart. On my break at work, he’d let me pick what I liked off the menu, and he always gave me extra portions.

After we moved in together, Martin did all the cooking. He’d make huge dinners of pie and mash with lashings of gravy, or pork chops and chips. Although we were both piling on the pounds, neither of us really cared.

The two of us were kindred spirits we both hated exercise and loved nights in front of the telly, snacking on crisps and chocolate. And after six months of filling up on Martin’s delicious dinners, at 5ft 8in, I reached a hefty 19st, and he weighed 21st. Martin worked six days a week in the hotel kitchen, but in December 2009, he started feeling ill. I’m just overtired,’ he said, as he slumped on the sofa on his day off, but, moments later, as he tried to stand up, he went crashing to the floor.

RUSHED TO HOSPITAL

‘Martin!’ I yelled. I could see he was struggling to breathe, so I called an ambulance, and Martin was rushed to hospital. Doctors diagnosed a heart attack and he was fitted with a stent to help the blood flow through his arteries. You need to lose weight,’ the doctor warned.