The Weight of the World

I've only lost about 10 lbs......

But clothes that haven't fit me in ages are now loose and actually somewhat falling off.

I wish Oscar (my scale) would come around to my way of thinking, but he is stubborn. He is just an honest reflection of the reality, can't really take it out on him (well, actually, I can and I do, but that's embarrassing.... say nothing of the fact that I am MORE embarrassed that I talk to my scale than I am of my FAT ASS! Moving on....).

I'm not loosing this weight as fast as I would like. That fact that it took 3 years to gain it, not important. (OK, so, yeah, getting involved again and cooking lots of food that almost always contains lots of love and cheese, and allowing the couch to know my butt better than the river trail used to, yeah no surprise, I easily gained weight. I KNOW! Should've seen that coming!) But why is it so fecking hard to lose?

So I've been back at my routine of exercise being a consistent part of my life. I am running again (almost daily) and weight training (4-5 days a week). I'm not really trying to diet (OK so I eat an egg every morning now, instead of nothing, but this doesn't really make up for the pizza I had for dinner last night). And there always the "Muscle weighs more than fat" theory that I cling to when I notice my biceps now have a hard curve to them. But its still not enough to completely convince me. I am still hoping one day when Oscar and I meet in the hallway, he will sweetly whisper in my ear how FUCKING KICK ASS I look (by that I mean show me a number that starts with a 1 vs. a 2). But no, he just flashes his number at me (which is SO SLOW to change). So I don't seek Oscar's company too often. And when we do, I often can be heard muttering "Feck you Oscar!" to which his number just blinks back at me. Whatever!

So instead of number gloating, I add another pair of to big "Fat Pants" to the pile of never again will I wear these. The pile to be carted off to Goodwill as soon as my closet is emptied of the "Fat Wardrobe". I like to see the pile grow. Someday soon I will part with this pile vs. shoving these items in the back of the closet, just in case. No safety nets, nothing to fall (or grow) back into.

I don't know how much I want to lose, so it's hard to set a goal. I know my body will get to a place where it will naturally stop loosing with what I eat and the activity I do. Far be it from me to fight nature for the last 5 or 10 (or even 20) pounds. I know it's cliche, but I really just want to look and feel better. I know if I work out, and eat generally better, I will lose weight. How much I don't know. But I don't want to set a goal that if I don't meet I can add to the list of things I wish I did better. So I won't set a number to meet.

It seems this time rather than looking to Oscar for reassurance, I tend to run just a little longer and little harder every week. I tend to do one more set of weight reps. Add a few more sit ups to my routine.

The numbers may never look good enough to me. Even when it does change, I find it is never enough at one time. You know how it is, you lose and then like a greedy child you just want more and more. And that ever elusive last few pounds becomes your nemesis and the number never gets low enough and you give up and say "Feck it, why am I working so hard?". Not this time. I run not just to loose weight but as a personal challenge to push past the pain. Because sometimes life hurts, but you have to keep pushing on. So I tell myself I can go just a little farther before I walk again. And sometimes life is hard and you don't want to continue, but you do. This is what I tell myself in the morning when I get out of my warm bed just before 5 to pull on my running clothes and head out into the damp, dark morning. And sometimes life isn't fair, it doesn't come easy, and you don't always get what you want, when you want it. That is what I remind myself when Oscar is stubborn.

So I won't base my success on Oscar's tally. BUT when I am up from running only 30 seconds at a time to over 3 and 1/2 minutes, I know I am making progress (actually I am sure this is better than even before when I was running). And hopefully when I catch a glimpse in the mirror of the hot girl on the treadmill, I will smile as she goes for 30 more seconds.