More on the subject of overindulging. For the majority of 2011 (especially the last half) I have been really stressed out. Trying to work full time at a stressful job (as a 9-1-1 operator, working 10 pm -6 am), with an unstable relationship with my boyfriend (our sleep/wake schedules were total opposites and cost both of us a lot of sleep in our attempts to see each other, kept us both on edge, and completely screwed up our eating schedules), during our attempts to buy a house, and just not having any sort of stability in my life with constantly moving. And we both gained about the same amount of weight. I discovered tonight I have gained almost 17 pounds since the last time I documented my weight. And 2 1/2 inches in my waist. I cried tonight when I saw the numbers.
He’s a foot taller than me, so that’s pretty freaking scary. I am 5’1 and have what is (at my best) a compact muscular build. I don’t want it, I want to be 18 and 97 pounds again, and about 5 inches taller (though even then I had wide shoulders, I was skinny and bony but never lithe and willowy like I always wanted to be). And I just turned 50.
|1980 with my 79 Camaro|
I actually began lifting weights in the early 80’s because I thought I was TOO skinny. My backbone and hipbones stuck out. I’m glad I did now because my bone density reading is perfect, but I am very short waisted and gain all my weight in my waist and boobs, so even a few pounds is immediately obvious. I’m straight waisted 🙁 And short. Not petite, just short.
Aaron and I joined 24 Hour Fitness a year ago today in Houston because we were both about 15-20 pounds overweight and in bad shape and we really tried. And we both did well at it for about 6 months. I actually enjoyed doing aerobic exercise for the first time. I liked the elliptical machine and the treadmill. We went bike riding, it was great. But then the house hunting started and just consumed both of us. And we both got bad about going to the gym regularly and gradually all our progress slipped away and we were back where we started and a little worse.
And I got down to about 135, was starting to look and feel good about myself.
|April 2011, after about 4 months of working out, about 135 pounds|
My goal was (is) between 115-120 pounds. For years I honestly didn’t think that was attainable for me because of all the health problems I’ve had and the hormonal crap that happened in my early 20’s when I was pregnant for a few months (yes, that blew my hormones out of the water, I went from an A cup to a C cup dammit and began gaining weight immediately and steadily). But in fall of 2009 my weight dropped to below 120 pounds. And I’m still not sure why. I think it was a combination of stress from going through my divorce and the thyroid medicine I was taking. I actually got down to a size 6 in jeans, which for me is skinny. My anatomical smallest waist (even at 97 pounds) is about a 26-28 inches.
|Halloween 2009 in New Orleans at one of the Anne Rice VL Fan Club events|
And it stayed off for about six months, then I gradually went back up towards around 135, which is where I was when I met Aaron in September, 2011. Too heavy, but not terrible. Not good, though.
|September 3, 2011, the night we met|
The shiny slip and wide belt don’t help, but in person this outfit was actually kind of cute.
But now I’m in New Orleans now and they don’t have 24 Hour Fitness in Louisiana. So I joined the local gym a week or so ago here in New Orleans, Elmwood Fitness, which is gorgeous btw. They wanted me to come in and get weighed, measured and get my BMI and then they were going to write up a personal fitness routine for me and wanted me to keep notes on my progress. But this distressed me in several ways. First, I used to own a gym and don’t like being told how to exercise (this has caused several arguments between Aaron and I also because he used to date an aerobics instructor, and I hate aerobics), I like strength training, and a little bit of aerobics. I became friends with the elliptical machine and the treadmill last year. He likes the stairmaster, maybe one day I’ll like it too.
Second, the thought of a stranger, and a male at that (they only have one female that does this and she was booked for two weeks out), taking my weight and measurements terrified me. I know I’ve gained an uncomfortable amount of weight, my clothes don’t fit well anymore, things are hurting that didn’t used to, and I know I look like crap. And I was afraid to find out. My scale has been in storage since May in an unknown box and that was just fine with me.
And it’s a huge, unfamiliar gym and I don’t want to look like an idiot. But Aaron has lost 20 pounds since I moved to New Orleans (and I know he worked hard at it, but honestly, men can lose weight so much faster than women, it’s not fair). And I really want to start working out again. And I knew I needed to.
So I told myself I was going to go and orient myself tonight when I finished painting. Which took longer than I thought, so I snuck in an hour before they closed. Which was fine, no one was there and I could wander around unnoticed. I did 10 minutes on the elliptical, which wasn’t hard because we’ve been walking so much, but my heart rate stayed around 150 the entire time. Bad sign.
Then I weighed myself in the locker room (with all my clothes on). And I actually gasped and scared a woman getting dressed. I was over 150 pounds. I haven’t weighed that much in years. And this is equivalent to the highest I ever got, my very worst. It scared the crap out of me. I’ve been eating better this month (lots of fish, chicken and salads), cutting back on desserts and alcohol, so I may have been even worse a few weeks ago.
I was so freaked out I stopped at Walmart on the way home and bought a scale with body fat percentage and BMI readings. I was going to use it till I get my other scale out of storage (and return it) but this one is much nicer and a lot easier to read. Bought a rice cooker too, I miss Aaron’s but in my rush I didn’t realize it didn’t have a steamer, so more research required on that one. It was the only small one they had, I don’t need 20 cups of rice. Soon I will have a proper kitchen again and that will help also. I’ll have all my cooking utensils and pots and pans back.
I can’t imagine what my cholesterol is now. It was normal on my last physical (it’s been 200+ most of my adult life).
So, it’s exercise and eat right or die. Of discomfort and embarrassment. Of heart disease. Of arthritis from the extra weight that is making my feet hurt like hell and causing random stabbing pains in my back.
I’m going to document my progress on this blog. Starting a new post so my results will be short and sweet (not, at least not now). No excuses, ashamed and embarrassed but beginning again. No dieting, eating better, exercising, and sleeping at least 7-8 hours a day. Haven’t done much of that this year because of our crazy schedules.
Starting tomorrow. Been freaked out all night about the weight, got caught in the thunderstorm earlier. OK, posting the results as soon as I publish this one, let’s get everything out in the open at once. In my life, I’ve found putting things in writing makes it happen. And keeps me honest 😉