Monday, June 20, 2011
By all rights, I should be angry.
I should be screaming and swearing at my betraying body that has, in one week, gained back the two back to back hard-fought losses of the prior two weeks. You know, the first losses in God knows how long?
Yeah, I should be PO'd.
And it's weird, but I'm not.
It is PMS time (which explains much of the gain, I suppose), and I should be RAILING.
I am also waiting to hear on two possible jobs. For people who told me last week that I'd hear by the end of that week. And the previous week they had made that promise about the prior week. Yeah, I should be LIVID.
But I'm strangely not.
Perhaps I've hit the zen sweet spot. I don't know.
I do know that getting angry and laying blame hasn't done a damned bit of good. All that's gotten me is tired. Not thinner, not faster, not a job. Just tired.
Now, this is not gonna be a rah-rah blog about how adversity is good for us, yadda yadda yadda.
Truth be told, adversity STINKS. Even if you want to do difficult things, there just comes a point where you wanna cry Uncle, where the 27+ miles walked and the 1600 - 1800 calorie diet followed last week shoulda done SOMETHING. It can be hard to make that effort and to feel that it is all for naught -- but the truth is, it was not for nothing.
Alas, though, it does not always come across on the scale. What is most maddening is the fact that putting it on is EASY. It does not take much to slip. It is, you are often like the little Dutch boy, with his finger in the dike, trying to hold back the river and finding it nigh well impossible.
But taking it off is HARD. Don't EVER let ANYONE tell you that this is easy. The first few steps can, actually, feel easy. But the long haul, the years, the miles, the stacked up plates full of good food choices that stretch from here to the moon?
Those are difficult.
This journey takes a LOT. Don't ever let anyone tell you this is a walk in the park, even if you're walking in the park when they tell you that.
You are the strongest people I know.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Ha, you thought, perhaps, that the clothing rant was over!
Oh, no, mes amis. It is far from over.
Let us, ahem, discuss what is, erm, under the shirt. And the pants.
I am speaking, of course, of our skivvies. How many of us walk around all day and are uncomfortable?
Now, I am well aware that constructing a bra is, in many ways, a job for the Army Corps of Engineers. It is a complex system of angles, pads, hooks, straps, cups and, perhaps, a bit of anti-gravity. There are different types, too, for enhancement or minimizing or whatever. It's a wonder any of 'em are relatively inexpensive, truth be told.
But why, oh why, is it that finding the right fit is so dang complicated? It is a set of measurements. And it is actually more measurement-driven than any other piece of women's clothing. It should be EASY to get a bra that fits.
I am a 36C. This morning, when I measured myself, my bust was 39.25" and my band was 35.5". According to Macy's www.macys.com/campaign/social?campai
gn_id=39&channel_id=1 I am a 36C, whether you go with a 35 or a 36 for my band size. Well, all righty then!
Except that I gap out on the sides, unless I am wearing a sports bra.
It is supposed to actually fit me! So -- here's a wacky idea -- unless it's some sort of a hotsy-totsy ooh la la type of bra, couldya people make it with higher sides? Otherwise, it looks like I am stuffing into something that does not fit.
And now to head southward.
I have found that Fruit of the Loom fit. Hanes Her Way, for me, do not. Same size (6 these days). Really, this should not be a radical difference. Yet it is! For, while I can get both types on me, the latter manufacturer's product, ahem, has a lovely tendency to go to places where it is not supposed to go.
My only advice is -- and you can't try these on in a store, so you end up buyin' 'em, is to try on, wear for a day, and see how often (if at all) you have to tug. Life is too short to be tugging. Know what I'm sayin'?
By the way, this can be a male issue as well, according to my husband.
Finally, something that more people will see -- shorts. How many people here wear shorts that continually ride up if you walk for more than, I dunno, a block?
My husband even has this happen to him, and he is a good 30 lbs. lighter than I am, and with decent legs (there's your ooh la la right there) without thigh rubbing. So why is he getting ride up?
My request to shorts makers - I dunno, but FIND A WAY. Perhaps the bottom part of each leg could be cuffed with a very slight weight in it? Of course longer shorts, like the kind that hit at the knee or so, have much less of this problem. But those are no good when it's 90 out. I would like to be able to wear shorts in skeery hot weather without, among the other things I deal with in life, also have to spend my time figuring out how I am going to, surrepitiously, adjust 'em. Over and over and over again.
I swear we will have World Peace a lot faster if all underwear issues could get resolved.
So, to all undergarment manufacturers out there -- pun intended, of course -- GET CRACKIN'!
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.
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