Whoops. I grew out of my work clothes. My weight started creeping up after my surgery in January, but this summer’s good times with it’s food and wine popped the button. When I was younger, I would have cried as I tried on all of the pants and skirts in my closet, desperate for just one pair to fit. I huffed at myself in the mirror tonight, but I didn’t cry. I developed a stress headache, but I didn’t cry.
I’ve carried too much weight around with me for most of my life. Sometimes it was only five pounds, occasionally ten times that. For one glorious summer I was actually at the very bottom of my CDC determined healthy weight range, but I only ate fat free cheese and fig newtons. Then I spent most of my 20’s hovering at the top of the range. And then I just blew off caring about the range altogether. So I’ve been there and back… and there and back again.
I’ve done Weight Watchers with some success. When I was younger, I could lose 10 pounds just by keeping busy. I’m not that lucky anymore. But I do exercise. I can be sporadic, but at least I’m not a couch potato. I eat lots of veggies and whole grains and lean meats. “Lots” being the operative word. My portion sizes are as plump as I am.
So as I stood in front of the mirror in my skin tight work pants (hey, at least I could zip them up!), I thought, “So what are you going to do about it?” Well, I’m going to cut back on my Coke consumption, which has skyrocketed this summer. That will save 280 calories a day. That’s 1,960 calories a week. (Good grief, is it really?!) You have to cut or burn 3,500 calories to lose a pound, so I’ll have to cut back on food too. Oh, how I love to eat. I think I’ll have to cut back to 1500 calories a day. Any less than that and I’ll be hateful. I’m not sure how many calories I’ve been eating, so I don’t know how much that will save. And, then, of course I have to stop putzing around and make every scheduled workout. Six days a week. I already do a ton of cardio, so I need to add in weight training. Muscle burns calories. So what am I going to do about it? That’s what I’m going to do about it. I’m guessing I need to lose 10 pounds to fit back into my clothes. Fifteen pounds wouldn’t hurt. So I’ll start with a goal of 15 pounds lost by October 11th. We’ll reassess at that point.
Of course, it would be nice if I didn’t have to spend so much time thinking about my weight and feel inadequate because I don’t manage it well. Every year I promise myself that this will be the year I am done dealing with it. I will be healthy. I will be fit. I will make the CDC proud. Too bad there isn’t a fortune
cookie box you can crack open to reveal the secrets of why you do destructive things to yourself. Truth is I don’t want to lose weight because I need to be the fashion magazine version of attractive. I want to lose weight because I want to progress as a person and leave behind this albatross. And, OK, I want to fit into my pants.
(And for the record, if you are a grown woman who still talks about other people’s weight, then I’m going to need you to go out and get yourself a hobby.)
All Done Reading: Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby; Now Reading: The Happiness Project (No, I’m not unhappy. I’ll explain tomorrow.)
Training Log: Kind of blew today, but tomorrow is running and yoga. Time to pull up my extra large big girl panties and get on with it.