Last week I stepped on the scale for the first time since January and found out I had gained 26lbs, making the grand total since September of last year, 40.
FORTY.
Do you know what weighs that much (besides shame)?
- That 5 Gallon Water Jug you struggle to put on top of the office water cooler
- The 15 foot canoe you want to row out into the middle of a lake to drown yourself
- The toddler you won’t have in 3 years because you did not give birth this year, but somehow gained the same amount of weight as your friends who did!
As much as I sound all “woe is me” above, I can tell my drugs (or therapy?) are working because this weight gain doesn’t seem as big of a deal as it has in times past. I didn’t really feel much of the aforementioned shame, but I did feel frustrated that I had to try to lose the weight, that I’ve lost multiple times, yet again.
When my mother and I walked the beach last week I noticed that many women were donning bikinis and just being in their bodies. In recent years it has become noticeable that people are trying to live in the now and feel the ocean breeze on their skin without thinking about how their ass looks in a bikini. Something is beginning to click in my brain where I just think, WHO THE FUCK CARES? Some people do care what others look like for some reason, like it warrants an opinion outside of the individual , but I honestly just don’t anymore. It’s not about what I look like to you or some stranger, it’s about how I look to me and maybe it has always been that way which is why it has been such a struggle for me to maintain a healthy weight.
Many feel my weight gain should be attributed to my seeking out a new antidepressant cocktail which may hold true for 10 or 15 of those pounds but not the full 40. My mother keeps trying to pin it on thyroid while my therapist thinks it perhaps is a defense mechanism I have used subconsciously to protect myself from men. Personally, I think it is all of those things combined, plus working out 1 hour instead of 2 and eating right 60% of the time instead of 80%. This brings me to the question- how do I figure out a lifestyle that keeps the weight off while remaining sane and staying true to myself. I want to enjoy food, but I want to do it like the French and not be a glutton, which I am wont to do.
Why lose the weight? Mainly because I feel uncomfortable and keep hitting things with my ass because of it’s growth. Do I need to lose the full 40? No. But I should probably try. Try before that number climbs and I actually can’t fit into anything in my closet. My big concern is that I won’t be able to lose that weight without changing my meds, this led me to signing up for a weightloss clinic to see if I can get any off before taking that step.
When signing up for this program I went on a scale that detailed water mass, muscle mass and bone mass, as well as went over how weight is distributed throughout the body. It gives you an idea of what you would weigh if you had ZERO body fat; my fat free mass weight is above the lowest desirable weight for my height and my muscle and bone mass are larger than the average female so I literally am BIG BONED. The number you normally see on the scale that torments you is one of many and it doesn’t nag at you like it does when that is all of the information you have. There is something about seeing a smaller number which is just your fat that helps you separate it from your body somehow. It’s no longer my body that is fat, it is that my body has fat.
Below are my measurements from last week- I look at the body fat number: 87.8 and think about the fact that when that number would have been 47.8 I still thought I was too big! What a nut. I didn’t dislike how I looked, but was and still am, all tied up in personal and ancestral history.
As I embark on this little sprint in the grand scheme of my weightloss journey I am glad I have the nutrition foundation I have. I’ve figured out what my body likes for fuel, and thank all my past gains for helping me to learn the hard way about proper nutrition and what true health is; small long term changes add up. Besides my weight gain other numbers have gone down or remained the same when I got my annual biometric screening done this week and am extremely healthy due to maintaining proper nutrition more than I don’t. I’m thankful I won’t have to learn portion size when this sprint is over or learn how to choose “this over that” and what I can and will substitute (gluten) and what I won’t (cheese). Perhaps this past gain is to remind me of the real reason WHY I had gone balls to the walls two Summers ago to get into the best shape of my life. It wasn’t entirely for my future pregnancy, or to attract my future mate, but for myself to feel better about me. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel sexier or prettier or worthy when I was at my physical best because I was an emotional and mental mess.
I saw this quote on Instagram, it’s attributed to a Mark Jones, “when we get triggered and get curious our life transforms. When we get triggered and get reactive our life stays the same.” I’ve been reacting, it’s time to get curious. First question, how the fuck did someone think to compare their weight gain (or loss) to a canoe?
too fat to be italian 