De-Fluffing: Day One:
19 July 2012
It wasn’t just the rear view photo the #$$%^& outdoor camera took of my butt, that convinced me to diet, de-fluff the fluffy Kath. I will not post another photo until I can post one that doesn’t look like I take up three lanes on an interstate highway.
Today: Day one:
Well, okay. Yesterday was the real day one of my DIET. After e-chatting with a friend who has managed to defeat the food monster, I started thinking hard about why I am down to two pairs of pants that fit. One of which ‘fits’ because it has elastic in the waist band. I knew about my friend’s journey, (She is writing a fabulous dieting book that she’s let me peek at.) and it finally dawned on me. It was my turn. Again.
I’ve had weight issues since I was nine. Fat then fit. Fat then fit. Over and over. Three years ago I once again got fit. I felt good, had more energy, had no indigestion, could wear the clothes in my closet (Some were even too big!), and didn’t need to wear incontinence pads when I walked daily. Does anyone else notice that there are consequences when a bladder gets squeezed by crowding fat cells?
I got in the shower, where I talk to myself. As far as I know, they can’t bug a shower, so there are no witnesses to my craziness in there. So I lectured myself:
“Are you crazy? You are not going to live forever. When exactly are you going to lose all this weight that is making you feel unhealthy and look worse?”
“Look worse?” Self answered.
“Yep. When you get out of this shower, turn on the bathroom lights, and look in the mirror.”
“LOOK in the MIRROR?” Self gasped.
“Yes. Really look. Now get out. Your fingerprints are gone; you’re so wet-pruney.”
So I swallowed hard and checked my mirror. Either the woman looking back was fourteen months pregnant with a Blue Whale, or I had gained back every ounce I’d lost three years ago.
While I stared horrified, I remembered my friend and her husband had joined a gym. I posed the suggestion to The Prince Consort, who managed not to do a victory dance, but instead got online to look up gyms.
If we did this, and got a coach to help us with the right exercises correctly done, I knew what the first demand would be. Get on the scales. I started to rethink the gym idea, until I caught that fluffy woman in the mirror’s eye.
“Weigh yourself.”
I did. The good news is apparently I have a strong heart, or I’d have been laid out on the bathroom floor. I weigh a good ten pounds more than my worst suspicion. At five feet nothing, ten pounds is like what? Twenty on a regular height person. I have 35 pounds to lose! ARGH!
And yes. I weighed twice, three times. My evil scale thinks it’s hilarious to lie about my weight when I first step on. Depending on the kind of day it’s having, it either treats me to a new low in pounds or goes for the heart attack heavier-than-two-elephants-and-a-blue whale poundage. Usually three step-ons gets to the truth.
And the truth was Horrifying. So I sort of started the diet right then and there. I didn’t start food journaling, but I did cut out desserts numbers two through four.
This morning I got out the paper and pencil ready to start the food journal: count calories and stop eating when I hit the day’s goal. But I didn’t know the calorie count for GrapeNuts. So I searched online. And what do you know, there are Apps for that! I downloaded a good one that will track consumption, look up calorie counts, track exercise, all on the iPhone and the iPAd. Which means my only refuge from dieting will be my computer?
So for the first time in a while I had a reasonable breakfast, not just 50% creamer coffee and a mutant-large bagel. I went for my walk, weights on my wrists, arms pumping. I even found a slightly longer path with lots of hills for stretching the plump legs.
I’m posting this hoping I’m not the only one out there with food problems. Whether you need to gain weight, maintain weight, or lose weight, I’d love to hear what works for you and what does not.
I’ll check in again when I’ve made some progress. Or better if I discover something wonderful. Or if someone out there has really good advice. Remember, I’m not above considering magic. No drugs. No AS SEEN ON TV, but magic, okay.
So lunchtime is creeping up. For breakfast I had Grapenuts and V8, then treated myself to coffee with a little creamer (Can you believe it? With less than 50% creamer, I could taste the coffee!) I think lunch will be my old fall back. 2 oz of sliced meat on half a pita pocket. Maybe a little tomato and pickle. And mustard. LOVE mustard.
Dinner will be harder. TPC is the house chef and cooks wonderful dinners. I will have to convince him smaller portions for me on a salad plate are not an insult. And then having licked my plate clean, I will have to NOT drool on him while he finishes his portion.
Kath the Fluffy
