You may get to the end of this post and wonder if I was being a tad bit sarcastic and bitter. Let me help you take the guesswork out of that: Yes. Today’s post ranks very, very low on the “Divinity” scale.
I am not now nor have I ever been obsessed with weight. I’ve always been an advocate of Elder Holland’s advice to “please be more accepting of yourselves, including your body shape and style, with a little less longing to look like someone else.” I am not the least bit motivated by Hollywood
harlots starlets because they are not even real people. (At least the almost always fabricated versions of them that are shoved in our faces.)
Since I moved to Utah, for reasons I cannot for the life of me figure out, I all of the sudden gained 20 pounds. (Yes, I’ve had my thyroid checked and there have been no other changes in my normal health or any medications or anything like that. I’m practically a psychic in anticipating your questions.) I swear it’s Utah’s fault, but since I can’t really beat up Utah, I’ve got to figure out what to do about it. It has nothing to do with wanting to compete with all the people around me who live for yoga, decorate their cars with 26.2 and Ragnar stickers, and shop for their jeans in the single-digit-number section. I mean, despite the fact that they are probably part-alien and I kind of want to hate them, I’ve been surprised that many of them are actually really nice people. Dangit. So it’s not about that. It’s just about wanting to be the normal kind of me and not a foreign-body version of myself. Oh, and because I really want the clothes I already own to FIT me. Is that really too much to ask?? Really? Well, apparently it is. I will now proceed to list the 101 reasons I should have lost at least 10 pounds by now.
- I have exercised at least 30 minutes a day for five days a week since school started NINE weeks ago. I have never had that kind of discipline since my college days.
- I even started jogging a little bit a couple weeks ago. As I stated in my Facebook status: Cue the apocalypse.
- I created an account at myfitnesspal.com and I have tracked pretty regularly my calorie intake and exercise to try to keep it toward a healthy daily total of net calories.
- I switched to skim milk. That alone deserves at least a pound or two.
- When I’ve met up with friends for lunch or dinner, I try to order smaller and smarter.
- I’ve tried to make better choices for cooking dinner.
- Once a week, I do one-on-one dates with each of my kids and it’s usually to a cute little bakery or something. For a while now, I’ve only ordered something for them, and I’ve just had a bite, or ordered nothing for myself, or like TODAY, my son got a sugar cookie and I ordered a half Spinach salad.
- During the entire week of Halloween, I only ate 6 of those little mini candies. Okay, and one caramel apple (maybe two). But let me tell you, that took some major restraint when sugar stuff is EVERYwhere.
- I started ordering green smoothies when I crave buying something sweet. Did you get that? Green-freakin’-smoothies.
- The Great Pumpkin came to our house on Halloween night. Our kids picked out their 10 favorite pieces of candy, put the rest in a bucket in the back yard, and during the night the Great Pumpkin came and swept it away, leaving a small toy in its place. ALL the candy gone from our house. To clarify, the Great Pumpkin did not eat ANY of it.
- I have exercised rigorously enough in the last 9 weeks that at least a few days a week, I have sore muscles.
- Yesterday I went to an exercise class called “Boot Camp.” I cannot, I repeat–cannot, do push ups, yet this woman made us do like 2,000 of them. And leg lifts that made my abs catch fire. I can handle all the jumping jacks and fast running in place and such, but any exercises that actually require any muscle strength are a joke. Last night I could not roll over in bed without pain.
- When I crave snacks during the day, I’m trying to eat stuff like a handful of nuts, some carrot sticks, Greek yogurt (I think it’s nasty), or whole-wheat toast.
- I almost never drink soda, diet or otherwise. Maybe once a month I’ll have a root beer. I always drink water and occasionally milk. I should drink more water than I do, but I’m trying to do better. (Actually, in the spirit of full disclosure, in the last week when it turned cold, I did have a couple hot chocolates.)
- Except for that one time at The Melting Pot like 10 years ago, when they dumped half a glass of white wine in my cheese fondue, I’ve never even tasted alcohol in my life.
- That’s not really 101 reasons, but whatever.
pleased really, really ticked off to announce that after almost 3 months of this kind of regimen, I have actually gained almost 4 pounds. Don’t try to be all “Oh, that’s totally because you’ve gained muscle,” because if that’s true then why are all my clothes just as tight as they were when I started? So basically this post is just me saying that I’m mad at the universe and I’ve been robbed.
I know you’re dying to give me advice like go Vegan, eliminate carbs, train for a marathon, drink protein shakes, put all your food in a blender with ingredients you can’t buy at normal stores or whatever. Just to keep it real, though, I probably will not listen to you unless you are actually a nutritionist, personal trainer, or certified seer. Because, trust me, the kind of effort I’ve put in should have brought about some kind of difference. So I’m pretty skeptical right now.
I’m not going to quit, mostly because I’m stubborn. I just needed to vent. I just got off the phone with my sister, and I told her I’ll probably feel humiliated after I push the “Publish” button. So be it. This is the part where you say stuff that’s either encouraging or empathetic. Otherwise, I remind you that I am a grumpy woman who is denying herself chocolate at the moment, and I hold the power to the delete button.
I am acutely aware that on the blessings vs. trials continuum, I am still riding very high. My life is abundant, and I don’t face the thousands of horrible thing that many others are suffering. I’m still giving myself permission to be bugged, though.
Ahem. Have a nice day.