I really never thought I would be doing this again. By this I mean jumping on the “I gotta get this weight off” bandwagon. I have watched with all the other mid-life women as one celebrity after another drops dozens of pounds in a “if I can do it anybody can do it” frenzy. I was very comfortable in my -stretchy pants I really don’t look that bad my God look at whatshername she looks like she ate an entire restaurant- attitude. Then I looked in the mirror. I mean really looked. Not just at my face or from the shoulders up and not just at my bathroom mirror. I took a long look at the woman I had become. I have never been rail thin. I have had my ups and downs with weight. I too hired a Nazi cheerleader trainer and managed to lose about 30lbs till the little snot got promoted and couldn’t train me anymore. No one seemed worth it after that. I have also had my fair share of health problems, with surgeries, right & wrong medications, and Dr.’s that should have “practiced “ just a little bit harder before I went to see them. So when I looked in the mirror I saw what I had truly become, a pudgy, frumpy, 50 something out of shap. Just another one of those “I’ll do it someday, I swear I will be in a 10 before you know it” ladies that just ate what she needed till she couldn’t breathe.
I briefly threw around the thought of one of the dozen or so weight loss surgeries and quickly decided that - that was way too much pain for me. Also I really can’t afford the bazillion dollars it would cost me out of pocket as I am currently unemployed. Heh.
So there I was signing on with a weight loss online program and logging every morsel I put into my mouth. I weighed only once a week because I knew that to weigh every day would be defeating. The first time I got on the scales I looked down and felt just a little dizzy. REALLY ???? I mean really !??!?! Did I really weigh that much????? Ok. I can handle this I took a deep breath and told myself that I am doing something about it. I will never have to see this number on the scale again -- I mean that is what they say on the biggest loser . . . Right? Ok, well off we go. I began walking to a structured walking program that suggested every other day, at least three times a week. I did it four times a week. I knew that I was doing good for myself. I was making a difference in my life I was GOING to do it this time. I had no doubt. So when it came to the big day I was ready. I was going to weigh in for the first week on the plan. I wondered what it would be 5lbs? Maybe. At least 3lbs. I mean I gave up all kinds of my regular foods -- I mean I gave up In and Out for God’s sake!! I stepped on the scale looked straight ahead and took a deep breath looked down and saw . . . . . . . Half a pound. HALF A FREAKING POUND??????? I GAVE UP IN AND OUT FOR HALF A FREAKING POUND????????????
I was dumfounded. I was amazed - I kept thinking that they dropped 30 and 40lbs in the first week on the biggest loser !! Okay so they were a tad larger than me - 150lbs or so- and they worked out a little bit more - 5 to 8 hours per day. SERIOUSLY ??? 5-8 hours . . . EVERY DAY???? Okay be that as it may I was only hoping for two lousy pounds. And I didn’t even get one. Sigh.
Alrighty then. I was not going to let this defeat me. I went back to the regime. Every thing that went in my mouth was logged online. I decided to keep up the walking routine. I was going to increase it for week two to get it into high gear. I was determined to get it done this time. I logged all my exercise as well.
I was single minded about this. I cut down on coffee (dangerous I know but I was going to do it dammit!!) I stopped drinking diet sodas (another sketchy move but oh well). I increased my vegetable and fruit intake. I decreased my fat and carb intake. Only “good” carbs for me (weren’t they all good? They all tasted good). I told myself every morning as I eyed the evil scale that I would prevail. I am an intelligent woman and I can do this. I am a wee bit older now so it might be a bit more difficult than in the past but I would prevail !!!!
So the big day came at last. As I approached the scale, after using the facilities in the bathroom and stripping down completely and letting all the air out of my body, I stepped on the scale- refusing to inhale until the scale read my weight, knowing, KNOWING that it would make me smile I looked down.
Well it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t even nice. It was the same. It hadn’t changed. At. All. It did not go down AT ALL.
I forgot to inhale and black dots swirled round my vision as I stepped off the scale. I couldn’t make a sound. Until I took a breath. Then the air in the bathroom turned blue. The dog hid. The birds flew off the wire outside of my house. I think the ground shook. I know I was almost coherent when I took the stance of Scarlet O’Hara in “Gone With the Wind “ and raised my fists to the heavens and growled thru clenched teeth “ as God as my witness I shall never go hungry again”!!!!! And off I went to the kitchen. It gets a little foggy here. I came to with crumbs down the front of me and the door to the refrigerator propped open with an empty ice cream carton. Don’t judge me you know you have been there too!
Anyway, The family gathering that was scheduled for that weekend to celebrate a revered Uncle’s birthday came to mind. I had previously thought (HA) that I would bring my own food, and just nibble the wonders of my cousin Tom’s cooking. Not now. It was two days later that I picked my niece (the chef) up at the airport and drove her to Tom’s house. On the way we stopped for dinner at . . . . . . . In and Out!!!! I swear I heard Angles singing.
The next four days were a blur of fun family time and INCREDIBLE Lebanese food!! I ate enough to feed a small village. I went back to diet sodas and coffee (YUM). I took my cousin Jules to the airport on the following Monday as the family scattered back to the four winds again and thought -- I still need to remove some tonnage. Jules was kind enough to show me a picture of myself, our mutual friend Anne and herself at her fiftieth birthday party. I was the one that resembled a blimp. I swear all I needed was a string around my ankle and Goodyear painted on my side. So heaving a big sigh the next morning I climbed back on the evil scale of Satan and saw that I had gained 2.5lbs. Defeat slumped my shoulders (not a good look for me at this age).
The next morning found me at the Gym. I hate the gym. It hates me back. It makes me feel uncomfortable and clumsy. I see the teeny tiny girls at the front desk that check you in and I want to hold them down and make them eat at least a dozen cupcakes. I want to see just the teeniest muffin somewhere near their tops. I want to be them only 30 years older.
At the gym I climb onto the treadmill. Who’s bright idea was it to make it about 14 inches off the ground?? That’s just cruel. I make the old lady sound (uhhh!!) just climbing up on the damn thing. I then proceed to try to figure out how the stupid thing works. Ummm. The start button is always a good choice. As the treadmill starts up at its 1.5 mph I try to figure out how to walk and put my earbuds in and turn on my ipod so I don’ t know where I am or what I’m doing. Fat chance. I juggle the ipod down the front of me much to the amusement of the Asian girl next to me. I am tempted to ask her why she is there as she is dropdead gorgeous and has obviously never been even half a freaking pound overweight. Then it dawns on me that she is there so she is not me in 30 years.
I throw my shoulders back and catch my ipod just as it teeters on the edge of the shelf that is made for bottles of water and such and punch up the speed on my treadmill. Thirty minutes later I am sweaty, my legs are shaky, and I am wondering how I am going to get off the stupid treadmill without falling on my face in front of all of the people in this now crowded gym. They have, of course, placed the treadmills close together so I have to step down in between mine and the beautiful Asian girl’s, who is now running, with the angle of the treadmill at about 3%. Showoff.
I make it down and don’t make a fool out of myself (thank you God). As I hobble out of the gym the perky little thing behind the desk tells me to have a good day. Peachy.
And so begins my saga. We will see where this goes, and how far I go. Keep your fingers crossed -- I just want to lose 3lbs to start with. (please GOD) and I promise I won’t ask to be a 10. Maybe a 10-12?