I am on the cusp of being fat. That’s a hard thing for me to admit because I have been thin—even downright skinny—for much of my life.
How do I know that I am almost fat? My weight oscillates between 148 and 150. When I calculate my BMI at 148, I get a 24.6. At 150, I get 25. Anything over 24.9 is considered overweight. Yeah, so I am always living one brownie away from officially being, um, plump.
I know that if you are reading this and you have seen me lately, you are probably thinking, “Oh, pleeeeease. You are not fat. You look fine to me.” Or maybe that is what you would say to me because you are a nice person, but you might be thinking, “Well, thank God! You are finally seeing that you have let yourself go. I’ve wanted to say something, but how?!?!?”
Well, thank you for either seeing me as thinner than I actually am or biting your tongue to spare my feelings, but really, this is not about how I look or about comparing myself to anyone else—not to the super-models in glossy magazines or other 40-somethings.
And if you are over-weight and thinking, “She thinks she’s fat? She must think I’m obese,” please know that my blog is about me and how I feel about me. I’m not commenting on anyone else’s weight and I’m never out to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I know weight is a hard subject for most women. The truth is people come in different shapes and sizes, and I see that as proof God likes variety. But for me, I would like me to be a little thinner. God loves me–and you–no matter what we weigh.
It’s not about the size I wear. Or that I weigh more than my husband. (Yeah, ladies, you cringed when you read that, didn’t you?) Or really even the number on the scale. This is about how I feel.
As a former thin person, I can tell you firsthand that everything feels better when sporting a slimmer bod! Sitting, standing, sleeping, moving, everything—even typing. And of course, the obvious: Shopping for clothes! Shopping for clothes feels so good when you can just pull something off the rack and know it will fit. God, how I miss tear-free swimsuit shopping!
Ten pounds ago, I slept better and I had more energy. Ten pounds was only a year ago and so I remember it well.
I can only explain the weight gain by saying I am a stress-eater. Not too long ago, I came home to a power outage and instead of investigating the cause, I sat down and ate a box of Cheez-its. That’s a pretty typical response for me, and considering that it has truly been the most difficult year of my adulthood, I’m lucky I’ve gained 10 pounds, and not 80.
And I’m physically lazy. I hate exercise.
The question is, what am I going to do about it—beyond finding a more constructive way to deal with challenging situations?
For the first time in my entire life, I want to get serious about not just weight loss, but about my health, in general. I’ve been reading Michael Mosley’s The Fast Diet, which is less about a diet and more about a major lifestyle change that involves fasting two days per week. On fast days, I can have 500 calories and on non-fast days, I just have to eat sensibly–so no downing a box of Cheez-its in the dark. Ideally, the benefits will include lower cholesterol, more energy, a stronger heart, and even an improved memory–in addition to the much wanted weight loss. I’m giving this a go! And that is why I’m sharing it here. Mosley recommends telling people so that I’ll feel accountable. I’m sure he would also like you to think, “Now, I’m curious. I think I will run out and buy his book.”
I’m going to find my way back to the gym, too. And I’m going to buy some kind of device that lets me download and listen to books to stave off boredom while on the treadmill or elliptical or some other torture device. Yeah, have I mentioned that I hate exercise?
So, there you have it—my confession that I am almost over-weight and unhappy about it AND I’m announced my plans for radical change.
And I’m pleased to report that while typing this blog-post, I have not been snacking. Yay me! This counts as a step in the right direction–and probably the only exercise I will get today. Well, unless you count lifting my mother-in-law. Hmmm…I should count that. I have biceps these days.