Monday, June 06, 2011
Okay, so it's an odd video. Anyway, ahem.
Dear clothing manufacturers:
Well, maybe not ALL of you, but, really. You've had a long time of seeing the United States get heavier and heavier, yet you still don't get our bodies. You don't get our tastes or our needs. You.Do.Not.Get.It.
Now, I am well aware that money talks in this area, and that if I spend some serious cabbage, I can get tailored clothing and avoid these problems. But, let's face it. Most of us are not made of money. And we might spend for a few pieces but, really, we need more than a piece or two in order to actually get through our days and not be doing laundry (or dry cleaning) every flippin' day.
But I digress.
You continue to stink.
Consider these issues.
* For shirts, blazers and blouses, yes, you make larger sizes. Cool! But, so often, you fail to increase the size of the arm holes. For larger women, or former larger women, the triceps are often big. Hell, that's true for older women as well. Yet here I am, wearing 14s, and I swear the arm holes are close in size to what they were when I was wearing 10s and when I was wearing 20s.
* Large women are not all large in the same way. In order to avoid some of the issues here, I propose a belly measurement for your clothes, along with bust, waist and (sometimes) hip. Maybe even size these clothes differently. A size 14WB could be a bit bigger around the midsection. I cannot say how many times blazers and whatnot fit at the shoulders but then there was an epic fail by the belly.
* Pockets! Cripes, do you not realize that we carry keys, change, a smidge of makeup and a hanky or tissues? AND WE DON'T WANT TO BE CARRYING A PURSE WITH US 24/7. How hard is it to get that? Running shorts never seem to have pockets, except for one miniscule one that -- maybe -- will hold one key. Well, guess what? I have more than one key. Yeah, I drive a car AND don't live in it. Yeah, I am awesome that way.
* On the subject of arm holes, what about calf sizing for boots? I am a size 11 in shoes. I have been this size for many years and while I weighed all sorts of amounts. But it's tough to find boots that fit over the calf. First I was heavy there. Now, I'm muscular there. And the boots STILL don't fit. I know that these exist, but they often have to be paid extra for (of course, how silly of me - pay and pay, right?). C'mon. It's a size 11. Seriously, 10s and 11s and up, these are way at the end of the curve. Dontcha think the calf size would be a bit larger, too?
* Blue jeans. Yanno that belly measurement I mentioned above? Yeah. That might help in this area.
* Elastic waists. Can't you hide them better, or at least put belt loops on so that we can do that? These days, I don't wear 'em so much, but I have plenty of friends who do. And they'd prefer to not be telling the world that they're wearing elastic waistbands. Can ya cut 'em just a tiny bit of slack in that area?
And, last but not least - Vanity Sizing. Man oh man I hate this. Just use measurements, all right? And, hell, use both English and Metric while you're at it. My waist, this morning (I measured it and all) is 35 3/4". My belly is 40". My hips are 43". What size pants am I wearing? 14.
Yeah, that's got a basis in reality.
Anyway, that's today's beef. And, folks, feel free to add yours. Or, if you have a fave designer, talk about 'em! Tell the world how wonderful some company is. I've found Columbia Sportswear to be good for workout stuff (e. g. actual pockets that work), and Dockers to be decent for semi-dressy pants. Talbots isn't bad, either, but I fit into them now (I didn't used to). Plus they can run pricey, particularly for everyday stuff.
Who's out there who DOESN'T stink? Let everyone know. Shout it from the rooftops. I wanna buy my short skirt and my long jacket from SOMEONE.
Monday, May 30, 2011
So the experiment in eat more, weigh less, has been proven to be a miserable failure. But perhaps my setpoint has been, er, reset. This is very annoying.
I went from 1600 - 1800 calories/day to 1800 - 2000/day, following SP's recommendation, given my exercise regimen. And of course I went from 205 lbs. to 208.6, over the course of the 7 weeks I gave myself. I had exactly ONE week with a loss, and that was glorious loss of .4 lbs.
I didn't let up on the exercise, and rarely ate stuff I wouldn't normally eat (in there was my Dad's 80th birthday party and I had chocolate cake - as fit in with my plan!). I did my best to balance out carbs and not go insane with the salt (more food often means more salt).
But, in the end, I was doing better before I changed.
So now I'm back to eating 1600 - 1800/day.
As for how I am feeling about it, I am frustrated and less than pleased. It feels, a bit, like a wasted 7-week period. At least before, I was lower. We'll see what happens in the next 7 or so weeks.
What kills me is that this is NOT maintenance. I am NOT done. I am still only 5'6". I am still over 200 lbs. And I am still a 14, but those are (see how much fun this BS has been?) getting tighter. Gaah.
As for my attitude, well, tough. Sorry, but I'm not gonna be chipper about this. It stinks. No, I am not giving up. Don't worry about that.
But I'll be damned if I'm gonna say that this makes me happy, recommitted, or whatever. It doesn't. It stinks, and I am tired of it.
On to the next round and, hopefully, better news. I'm goin' swimming today.
Monday, May 23, 2011
We got back from Cape Cod on Saturday, and things looked okay on Sunday morning, only up by .2 and I'm thinkin', this isn't so bad.
Oh, no. That was *yesterday*.
Silly me. I am not allowed to lose weight anymore! So long as I remember that, I won't be disappointed, eh? Because, of course, I'm up another 1.4. Yes, oh, thank you, sir, may I have
I am tired of this nonsense.
I am in the final week of my "eat more, see if you can reset the setpoint" experiment, and so far it has been a big, fat failure. As in, I weigh what I did in April.
See why I'm a lil ticked off, eh?
I can totally see why, and how, people backslide (hell, I regained several times when I was younger. This isn't exactly unknown territory for me). I can see it, and I can hear it, the siren song of sugar and idleness and alcohol and oh, one won't hurt you!
And then suddenly it creeps back a little, but your clothes still fit, even though they don't look quite so hot, but you go with it, because a little play is natural. And then you're just wearing the stuff with forgiving waistbands and then you buy a few bigger pieces because you need a nice dress or a suit for a job interview or whatever and then you do that again and I swear it is like being a backsliding alcoholic because 14 is okay, and then 16 and 18 are okay and then 20 is okay because it's not the size 26 you used to be, eh? And then suddenly you're back to 26 but somehow that's justifiable because it's comfortable and you used to be that size and people loved you and you were fine and now you know better and you can do it again, right? Right?
Except you're older, and more cynical, and the low-hanging fruit was plucked a long, long time ago and you are staring at yourself in the mirror and thinking, I am too old for this nonsense, and I hate this, and I am tired of it and why can't life be easy like it used to be and oh poor me and God I hate my life and my clothes and my body and wouldn't it be good if somehow someone would invent a way to make it easier and I would do that except right now I just can't haul my butt off the couch.
Yeah, I know those thoughts, those feelings, those actions.
And they have crossed my mind lately. Let it go. Be Zen. Toss it all away.
It all seems so simple. Backsliding. For sliding is easy. You just let gravity take a hold of you and whoosh! You're back to where you were before except, for real, you're lower and the mountain is steeper and you just haven't got as much energy as you used to.
This morning, on the site that I manage, I had a discussion (I don't want to say fight although I was hopping mad) with a girl who was trying to convince people that REM sleep burns more calories than running on a treadmill. And she was annoying and self-righteous and I did my best to present the arguments and say, yes, you do burn a few calories at rest because your heart and your lungs are powered by calories, but to say that that is more than running is just downright irresponsible.
It got me angrier than it should have, and so I am attempting to at least be Zen about that.
As for being Zen about the weight gain, I am not Zen about that.
I am annoyed. I am tired, yes, but I am annoyed. And I am also -- and this seems a nutty thing to admit -- I am hurt.
I am hurt that my body has decided that, for whatever reason, eating well and exercising and drinking water and getting rest are just, somehow, not even cuttin' it for maintaining the weight loss I've achieved so far. I am hurt and I am angry. Something, someone, needs a spanking. Bad body! Bad! Naughty!
So, where do I go from here?
Back to basics? Uh, no, I've been at basics all along. Basics are not working for me. Basics are, right now, a rut. I track. I work out. I eat right. I drink the damned water (I live in the bathroom enough already, thank you very much). I watch the salt. I don't go carb-crazy.
Tomorrow (for today I have a job interview, and that is a part of why I am stressing right now, too), I return to my gym, and pound the treadmill, like I have been, like has not been working for me, for I know that giving up is not in the playbook, and depending on REM sleep for my weight loss is a lot like depending on elves to get it done.
Look out, naughty body. You're not gonna know what hit ya.
Monday, May 16, 2011
First, thank you all again for your kindnesses last week. I am actually feeling a bit better although the stress level continues to be pretty high. But I am workin' on it.
Last week, I went to NY for my Dad's 80th birthday bash (no pics yet), and saw various cousin type people and a relative who is ill (and for whom this song was chosen - so now you know what kind of a treatment that person is going to get). Specifics about the ill family member will not be forthcoming, as that person is entitled to their medical privacy, of course.
Though I gotta say, it's interesting. I rarely see my cousins, seeing as they all live in NY and NJ and we are in the wilds of oh so far North Bahstin. In all fairness, one of them has small children. I recognize that visits are not easy or cheap, and I am totally understanding that as I haven't worked in a dog's age, and I know some others haven't, either.
But we all hugged so much tighter this time. And the vibe I got was -- we may all be thinking this, consciously or unconsciously, that this might be one of the last times we can all do this together. So it's a tad bittersweet.
My father is the last male of his generation on that side, and one of the last on the other side, as well. Even his younger brother (5 years younger, I might add) is gone. Dad is IT. And he seems to take that in stride, kinda being everyone's Dad now. He doesn't just have a son and a daughter, and a son-in-law and a daughter-in-law and one grandson. Oh, no.
He's got three other daughters. And one other son. And another daughter-in-law. And another son-in-law. And another grandson. And two granddaughters. And they may call him Uncle or Great-Uncle but they come to him, and he jokes with them, as he fixes their light fixtures or fiddles with their computers or explains about refrigeration (inside family joke: if you ever have insomnia, call my father and have him explain refrigeration. It's better than Ambien. Trust me.). And he offers advice. Or sometimes he's just there, and he makes an example.
He is up at 6:30 AM like a shot, every single morning. He still walks faster than I do. He can fix things. He has over forty patents (most of which are hanging on the walls of my house). He wears bowties. He is a jokester. The belt on his pants gets higher every year and is now under his armpits. I imagine it will become a headband one of these days. He forwards every Internet warning there is. He teaches senior citizens how to use computers (and, probably, also how to send that kinda junk). He loves my mother unconditionally. He is everyone's Dad and Grandpa. He has a work ethic that is off the charts, even as he jokes that he never worked a day in his life. Well, it's not work if you love it.
He and Willie Mays turned 80 on the same day, May 6th, 2011. And to that I say, Say Hey, Dad.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Okay, Tim Curry in the 80s. Rawr.
All righty then.
So, life is mixed. On Thursday the 5th, I called my pals at Unemployment. Oh, answer these questions. Ah, you're still not working. Extension until mid-August! Score! Then this morning, I put in for a check and their computer spits out, oh no, you've exhausted your benefits. WTF???!!??!?
So now I have to call them again, and of course they are busy, fast busy signals. Gaah.
But there are also a lot of job calls suddenly. I am guessing that one of the sites where I am listed ( www.dice.com ) must have offered some sort of a May special. It's all centered around May, and these recruiters all seem to say that they found my name on Dice.
Prospects but nothing concrete yet, of course. And prospects don't pay the bills.
As for weight loss and working out, that's also less than optimal. I gained a pound since last week. Thank you so much, experiment in eating more calories so that the fitness tracker stops screaming at me. I am still continuing with the experiment, it'll end at the end of the month, but this is annoying and dispiriting. My measurements are meh, some slightly up, some down. My calves are slightly firmer, I suppose. This does nothing toward getting me back into size 12s.
"Hey baby, I dig your hot calves!" I do not hear this too often.
I walked a good 25 miles this week and went to my gym 3 times. Part of the walking/jogging included a 5k that totally was not a 5k. We did it for brain tumor research (God, that's an awful disease to have) and the course was absolutely not laid out long enough, as Mr. J and I both got honkin' amazing PRs that had no basis in reality. Others also said they felt the course wasn't long enough. I am guessing, based upon my usual speeds, around 2.85 or 2.95 miles, as opposed to 3.1. I mean, I did it in 36:10 (they did not have an official timekeeper; this was by Mr. J's watch). Since my best before that was 38:12, when I weighed a good 24 lbs. less than I do now, well, no. That was so NOT a 5k. But it was nice, and our finisher medals look like dog tags so we are all set if there is a scene of M*A*S*H ever filmed here - we can be extras.
I am going back to the gym today, and I am going to call my friends at the Commonwealth and try not to turn purple as I explain to them that they TOLD me I had an extension, so couldja please enter that stuff properly into the computer already???
And I also wait for news for a relative, who needs treatment (I am being deliberately vague about this but it is not a happy disease - not a brain tumor, though) and so that is tossing me on edge some more.
And I am workin' on my hot calves.
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