Monday morning, as is my custom, I stepped on the scale and discovered that over the course of the week I had gained four pounds. Yeah, fuck that. It’s the most weight I’ve gained since starting “Operation Skinny Bitch” a year ago.
Not that I am consumed by monitoring my weight… Well, yeah actually I am. But I think anyone who’s lost a significant amount (I include myself here) has to be vigilant in order to maintain the weight loss. I don’t want to be one of those women who have sets of clothing in multiple sizes to accommodate their various fluctuations. I’ve listened to middle-aged women in my church who now wear clothing sizes well into the double digits (and some with a “W”) talk about how they wore size four or six when they got married. What the hell? How in the world can you let yourself go like that?
Perhaps because I was never a skinny kid/teenager/young woman that I was never allowed to take my metabolism for granted. I’ve been to that place where stylish clothes don’t look great on you, where you’re uncomfortable on the beach, where you can’t buy button-up shirts because they pooch open at the chest. I don’t want to go back. Is it easier to grow up skinny and fall into becoming fat? I wonder what those people think when they look back at photos or find old clothes. Have they just resigned themselves to being overweight?
Last week was a bit of a food orgy: ate out three times, a lambic and a giant piece of chocolate cake Friday night, a bridal shower. I’m sure these all contributed to my poundage. Now I am attempting to be more vigilant about what I put in my mouth. I don’t want to go back to measuring out my food portions and being super-anal. I did that for six months, and it was exhausting. If I could just control my horrid snacking impulses…
Of course, it doesn’t help that Adrian and I celebrated Shrove Tuesday with pancakes for dinner last night. Plus my run might get rained out this afternoon. Piss on this.
Happier times: I am finally getting my hair cut into some form of a style. It will be the first time shears have touched my locks since July. Hair’s pretty gnarly right now. Such is the harsh reality of “Operation Long Haired Hippie”.
Happy Year of the Rooster everyone!