Category: weight

I Deserve Better

All I used to care about when I was dieting or working out was how I looked. I dreamed about the clothes I wanted to be able to wear, hoped all those crunches were going to give me flatter abs, and impatiently waited for the scale to register a lower number.

I still care what I look like, no doubt. But now, at 51 I worry about things I never paid any attention to when I was in my 20s or 30s: my blood pressure reading, cholesterol, heart health, joints.

I just had bloodwork drawn for a doctor’s appointment, and given my weight gain and general neglect of my health, I was surprised how good all of my results were. This old body is tougher than I give it credit for, I guess. But luck will run out eventually if I don’t make some changes.

My motivation now is much more than looking good. I want to be healthy, strong, and fit, too. I want to be around to enjoy as many days and as many experiences as possible with my husband. I want to see all of my stepkids’ milestones, their weddings, their babies, their achievements. I want to be able to keep gardening and taking care of our yard. I want to be able to pick up my grandkids and play with them without passing out or needing resuscitation.

And, ultimately, the “why” that makes my heart ache: I have promised myself so many times, over and over, to take better care of myself, and then I don’t. I let myself down more times than I can count. I don’t want to do that anymore. I deserve better from myself. I will take care of every stray cat, feed the birds and raccoons and possums in our yard, drop everything to help my husband or one of the kids if they need me, but I can’t spare the same love, time, and energy for myself? Come on now. I can do a lot better than this!

Well, today is day #3 of doing a lot better, and I am slowly but surely making changes to be healthier and happier. When my husband and I went grocery shopping last night, I reacquainted myself with the produce section, figuring out healthy things to snack on that I will actually eat. I have searched online to bookmark workout videos to try (and then, believe it or not, have actually done some of them)!

Considering I didn’t get my act together until half the week was already over, I don’t know what to expect at weigh-in tomorrow. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe at least a small loss. Hopefully not a damn gain! We’ll see tomorrow morning. Either way, this is just the beginning, and I am proud of myself for finally taking this step and committing to it.

Moving the Goal Posts

I had a conversation with my husband the other day that really set the wheels turning in my head.  It started with him saying, “I need to talk to you.”

Uh-oh.  Nothing good ever comes from that opener, does it?  That’s how people bring up divorce, or mortal diseases. I cautiously approached him and waited for him to start talking.

He hesitantly added, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way…”

Double uh-oh.  Now I knew he was going to tell me something terrible!

Instead, he told me he wanted me to know that he truly loves the way that I look right now.  He said I am perfect the way I am.  He said he is attracted to me if I choose to lose weight, too, but he didn’t want me to feel like I had to lose weight to make him happy, because he would be happy if I don’t lose anything.

I would assume he was just saying that to make me feel better, but my husband is not a sugar-coater. He is blunt, like me, and very honest. He does not say something unless he means it. It’s one of the many things I adore about him.

This is good, right?  I should have been happy, grateful that he loves me the way I am, relieved to have any imagined pressure taken off me.  Instead, I was upset.  And it took me a long time to figure out why.

After a few days of picking at the edges, working out the knots, it finally unraveled and seemed so simple once it was laid out in front of me.  The majority of my reasons for wanting to lose weight are external: wanting to be a better role model for my stepkids, wanting to look good for my husband, wanting to prove to others that I can do this. 

My stepkids are now mostly grown, so while I can still be a role model for them as a strong, healthy adult, my influence is limited when they are saturated with unhealthy expectations and attitudes from others.  And when my husband said he likes me the way I am right now, well, *poof*!  All of my external reasons for wanting to lose weight deflated.  I was left with an empty box, no compass, no direction.

Or so I thought.  I have focused so hard, so long, on shallow reasons to lose weight that I nearly forgot about ME.  I am pretty short, so my current weight is simply not healthy.  I used to really enjoy running, and I struggle with it now because of pain in my joints.  I used to take pride in my fitness, and I derived happiness from it.

It’s a huge shift in my thinking, my planning, my goal-setting.  I have no idea now what my goal weight is, but I know it’s not a goal weight that I set while trying to fit back into a certain pair of ancient jeans that haven’t fit since I was willing to work out for 2 hours a day.

I am going to weigh in tomorrow morning for an updated, accurate starting point.  I may not know for certain where I want to end up, but I know for certain it isn’t where I currently am.  So step #1: pinpoint  exactly where I am right now.

I am going to start with losing 10% of my weight.  I have read that losing 10% of extra body weight can have significant positive effects on health, so that will be my mini-goal.  

I also need to put some thought into meaningful goal posts for me.  Not fitting into a pair of jeans, but things that add value to my life, like running a certain distance again.  Being comfortable during those runs, not in agony.  Getting back to things I used to enjoy, like maybe kickboxing, definitely strength training.  

I have some homework to do this weekend, but I believe I am finally on the right track to move forward in a healthy way to get to a better place for myself, mentally and physically.

Happy Weight

Sunday morning, we decided to let the kids sleep in, since we had been out late, having fun.  My husband and I snuggled under the covers in the chilly morning, talking about the day ahead, joking around.  He patted my hip, started to say something, then said, “Never mind” and brushed it off.

Yeah, right.  I wasn’t about to let that go!  I asked him what he was about to say.  If you’re going to say something, then just say it, right?

He patted my hip again and said he would not be upset if I didn’t lose any weight at all.  Then he said he felt bad even saying that, and that of course it’s up to me.  He asked if I was offended.

Offended?  Because my man is happy with how I look?  No!  Ha.  How could I be offended by that?  I laughed and told him it was fine.

It did get me thinking, though.  My goal weight and my goal size are relics from years and years ago, when I was much younger, much more active, with a much faster metabolism.  How realistic am I really being?

Whether he likes how I look right now or not, I know it’s not an option to NOT lose weight.  I am too heavy to be healthy.  I feel it in my knees, the bottoms of my feet, and in my fitness level (or mostly lack thereof).  To just stay at this weight is disrespecting my body and choosing to be unhealthy.  That would be quite stupid.

But it did shift my goal mindset to health instead of weight or a clothing size.  It pushes my goal into a hazy, gray area, because I can’t define it with a specific number, but more of a “I will know it when I get there” concept.

I will be at goal weight when I feel healthier; when I have more energy; when my feet don’t hurt from simple walking; and when I can finish a workout and feel proud and happy instead of just relieved that I didn’t die of a massive stroke.

I remember reading once that your healthy weight is whatever weight you can maintain without having to place a lot of undue work and focus and stress on staying there; basically, where your body seems happy to be.  That is what I want to find.

My old goal weight has been as low as 125 or 130.  I know, from being at that weight before, that I have to work out extensively and obsess over every bite to get to, and stay at, that weight.  I don’t want to do that.

I want to be healthy, fit, happy.  Why has that been so hard?  It sounds so simple, doesn’t it?

I decided to challenge myself to walk at least one mile every day the rest of this week.  If I can’t even do that little bit for myself, then for heaven’s sake, I may as well just throw the white flag of defeat and admit that I really don’t want this enough to work for it.

Happy the Way I Am?

My weight has ricocheted from damn near underweight to oh-my-god overweight while my fiance has known me.  I was over 200 pounds when he met me, and I got down to 125 or so briefly several years ago.  I’d love to be anywhere near that again!

My fiance has never said anything negative about my weight or my appearance.  Even when I criticize myself the harshest, he tells me he loves me just the way I am.  He has encouraged me when I was struggling, and he has dealt out tough love when I needed it, but has never insulted me or put me down or made me feel like I was not measuring up.

Not long ago, we were joking around and snuggling, and he had his arms around me and suddenly said, “I know it’s selfish, but I kind of wish you don’t lose a pound.”

I was stunned.  I thought he was only tolerating how I look, patiently waiting until I lose weight.  But he told me he likes my body the way it is now.  He quickly added, “But I want you to do what makes you happy.”

Of course I’m happy that he likes how I look.  Who wouldn’t be?  That’s a wonderful thing to hear.  I would be hurt if he told me he was not attracted to me.  But knowing he is happy with how I am now makes me think, well, why bother?  Why try to lose weight, then?

Well, no matter what, it’s not healthy for someone as short as I am to weigh as much as I do.  And I am not happy at this weight.  I’m glad he isn’t waiting for me to turn into a supermodel-skinny walking skeleton, but the cold, hard truth is, I still need to get some weight off for my own happiness and health.

I’ve slacked off a bit over the last week or two, and it’s time to get back on track.  It just so happened that I got a nice raise at work (yay!) while the kids were home, so we celebrated that, and I let the celebration turn into another day, then another.  Time to quit the partying and get back to working out! 🙂

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