The thing that sucks the most about being fat is having to lose weight.
I’m not morbidly obese. But the girth around my waist exceeds 35-inches and apparently that makes me a statistic for a variety of health issues, none of which are fun.
It’s not that my diet is bad. I’m such a picky eater, I barely eat at all. I only put enough down my throat to keep my blood sugar stable so that I don’t pass out. I’ve logged my daily intake to see if I’m really eating more than I thought, and no, I was thinking correctly. I eat somewhere between 1,200 and 1,600 calories a day–usually the higher number on the weekends because of my favorite cocktail (I said I was a picky eater, not a picky drinker). So unless someone is slipping Ambien into my evening tea (or vodka), the weight issue must be one of exercise, right?
With that theory in mind I began the new year with the goal to exercise six times a week. I pulled out my P90X CD’s that I bought last summer after stumbling onto Tony Horton’s infomercials and started in. As it turns out, I’m only exercising about 3 times a week right now. I just haven’t been able to hit that magic 6 number. It just hurts too much.
Why is there so much pain involved in losing weight when gaining it only gives you the occasional heartburn or broken jean zipper? My arms ached so badly this morning I couldn’t get my jog bra on to do cardio (and when your chest far exceeds your stomach, you gotta put on a jog bra). So I skipped today and promised myself I’d walk faster between my desk and the coffee pot. If I do enough reps between 9 and 5, maybe I’ll be able to convince myself I did cardio all day long.
I’ve been on this masochistic regimen for about 2 1/2 weeks now. I know I shouldn’t be expecting results yet, but a little bit of something would be nice. I weigh myself everyday and have seen the scale stay flat and occasionally, after a day of strength training it even goes up a little. Which is more than a little demoralizing. My ulta-skinny sister-in-law says I should expect it. Apparently it’s inflammation from the work out. It’s supposed to be a sign you were working hard. I just don’t understand why I get punished like that for doing the right thing. The universe isn’t supposed to work that way, is it?
But I’m going to keep at it. Even though it hurts and so far I’ve only gained weight. And I added in a new element to the big plan to lose weight. I started a cleanse yesterday. At least it’s giving me some instant gratification. I weighed myself first thing this morning and a couple hours later, immediately after spending a few minutes reading in the bathroom, I became a little curious and weighed myself again. I lost 1 1/2 pounds since breakfast. Amazing. A little scary, too. But I’ll take any loss I can get right now that doesn’t involve pain.