Discussing weight is a tricky issue due to the offending factor. There are ‘thin’ people who have never struggled with being overweight and some of them may say obesity is disgusting. Of course, that’s their opinion, and if their claims are true that they ‘eat what they like’ and ‘don’t do any exercise other than walking upstairs to take a bath’, then they’re blessed with perfect metabolism and are very lucky. Some people have fucked-up metabolism or thyroid issues and the weight piles on. Others simply eat the wrong food and don’t do enough exercise. I was one of the latter, and it took a good while for me to accept what I needed to do in order to lose weight. It took many years for me to get my head around finding the right diet plan, doing regular exercise, and believing I could lose the weight—and wanting to do it.
Because I’ve been in the mindset of ‘fuck it, I’ll always be fat, can never lose weight’ I totally understand obesity and how a person can get bigger. It happens. Life, depression, having kids, being comfortable…God, so many reasons why it occurs. It can take a long time to get your mind to accept you have a ‘problem’—if, indeed, a person sees being overweight as problem in the first place. Some people are happy as they are, thankyouverymuch, and for a long time I was one of those people. So what if I carried extra weight? So damn what?
It wasn’t until I started getting out of breath when walking short distances, struggling to combat the urge for just one more doughnut etc., that I looked down at myself and realised, for me, I had to do something. I got scared that my eating habits would escalate and make me ill. That I would die young. This enlightenment doesn’t happen for everyone—as I said, some are happy as they are, and that’s their business—but I wanted not just to lose weight, but to feel better and live longer. That’s my life choice, one I cottoned on to just in time, because I feel I was teetering on that fine line between being able to lose weight without it being too much of a chore, or going the other way and adding more pounds to my body and giving up ever trying to get them off.
Below are a couple of pictures I took this morning. One is of a pair of trousers that fitted me on Boxing Day 2009, with a pair of jeans I currently wear placed on top. The other is of my midsection while I’m wearing jeans today the same size as those pictured. At times it has been hard work. Doughnuts are what I crave, so to get my mind off accepting that I don’t need them has been hard going, but once the weight started coming off I got more determined to keep going. I hope to place a smaller size jeans on top of the ones here at some point this year, even if it’s Boxing Day by the time I reach my goal. That means it will have taken one year to ditch the pounds I promised myself I would dump.
If you’re on the losing weight, healthy eating, or exercise plans, good luck, and remember: YOU CAN DO THIS!
The exercise regime is going well. I never thought I’d be an exercise-type person. I mean, the thought of jumping around and getting sweaty just didn’t appeal, and I honestly didn’t understand the fitness bug until I embarked on my mission to lose weight for good this year. Yep, I’ve tried it numerous times before, got to a reasonable size, then slipped back into my old ways, regaining the pounds I’d lost. Something clicked in my mind this past Christmas. My old habits had to change, and I accepted that to lose weight and keep it off, I’d have to exercise as well as adopting a healthy eating attitude.
Diet aside (that’s a whole other topic), I started aerobics at home—much more comfortable with that. After all, no one is here to see me heaving about in the living room, or there to laugh when I cock up a move and fuck up the dance routine. No, I’m all by myself, and I can mutter, “Silly cow!” and continue on as though nothing ever happened. Then came the swimming idea. I had to lose enough weight to be able to go—no way would I go before I was comfortable in a swimsuit. So I got comfortable with my size, and we started swimming last week, primarily to teach Smallest to swim and secondly to lose weight/tone the bod/get fit. Hubby has an amusing post on yesterday’s swim trip HERE, and he’s voiced all the things that went through my mind at last week’s session. But I must say, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed swimming. Don’t get me wrong, I hate people splashing and getting my face and hair wet (God, what a boring cow I sound. “Don’t splash me! Don’t get me wet!” I’m a pool. How can I not get wet, for eff’s sake!), but the actual act of swimming is cool. I managed 34 lengths compared to last week’s 18, and felt better for doing it after having 5 days off from doing aerobics, which was naughty indeed, but I told myself my body needed the respite. That was my excuse anyway…
Already I’m looking forward to next week, and I have my exercise days all planned out for this week. Hopefully my body will be more toned by the summer. I’ve hated previous summers, where I’ve felt uncomfortable shedding the layers and exposing my less-than-voluptuous body for the eyes of those slimmer than me to take the piss out of, but this year I’ll feel a lot better about myself. I know we shouldn’t care what other people think, and for the most part these days, I don’t, but I do care about what I think, hence me doing something about the vessel that carries me around. Whether it’s because I’m getting older and I’ve realised that if I don’t care about my body it won’t serve me too well when I’m even older, I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m going to keep going.
One day I’ll walk on a beach in a bikini. One day.