I just stepped off the scale.
For the last five years I’ve shied away from the scale as the pounds piled on. At the highest point I felt so buried and encased that movement was impaired, as if a giant elephant sat on me. Rolling over in bed became an effort, getting up out of a chair, and of course walking. Walking is the key to the weight gain in the first place since my knees are completely shot. They shake, they buckle, they HURT like hell. Clothes seemed to shrink, and the tops riding up and the pants riding down grew worse and more annoying. My blood pressure soared and I was always hot.
In the back of my mind, I knew the last straw would be bras and underwear. I was up to the largest size in the only bras I could find that are comfortable and wearable. If I got any bigger I’d have to go without a bra! There is no way I could do this, and I’m sure the “bra police” would bust me if I tried. (No pun intended.) Is it me, or are the plus size unmentionables the cheapest, most poorly made, ill fitting Chinese made crap out there? I tried all of them, and none of them fit. I have a whole drawer full of Hanes and “Just My Size” (which I now call “Just Too Small”) panties where the leg openings are gigantic, yet the hip is too narrow, as if made for a Martian. So they migrate right up the crack in four strides and are thus unwearable.
And why are the neck openings gaping and huge in plus sized tops, while the arms seem kind of tight creating a rumpled look on the shoulders? For the love of Mike it’s hard enough to cover up all this fat without the clothes taking on a life of their own and conspiring to twist and deform with every move I make, making me even more dumpy looking. And jeans. Oh, jeans. To get the butt and thighs to fit, the waistband is about four inches too big. So I take in darts on each side in the back. But that pinches my fat “Venus of Willendorf” stomach when I sit down pushing all that blubber right into my diaphragm so I can barely breathe.
The problem isn’t the clothes, it’s my misshapen, obese body. I’m short waisted and narrow shouldered, and very long legged, and being fat on top of this is a fitting nightmare. I HAVE TO GET THIS WEIGHT OFF!
Two months ago I embraced a weight loss strategy I could live with for the rest of my life, and I am glad I can step on the scale and for the second time, whoop with victory. Fasting on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays is bearable because I know I can eat whatever I want on Fridays, Saturdays, Mondays, and Wednesdays. This is working for me!
I’m only weighing once a month, on the “First Friday” of each month. Today is June’s first Friday. The pool is up and the weather is warm and beautiful. When I stepped on the scale I was pleased to see I’d lost another eight pounds for a total of eighteen since I started the alternate day fasts.
I’d have lost a full ten like the first month, I’m sure, if I’d refrained from pigging out on a fast day that fell on Mother’s Day. We took my mother in law to the all you can eat Asian buffet (she’s diabetic). If you’re going to eat in a restaurant and you have “issues”, make it Asian. Asian cuisine is the lowest in fats and the highest in nutrition to calories because they use so many veggies.
Today is the big eating day, the celebration day. My reward will be Death by Chocolate!
YUM!
alternatedayfast 