I was always a skinny kid. I never weighed myself as a kid or cared about such things much. I can remember having to weigh in during high school PE and it amused me and my best friends because of all four of us we each were 5′ tall and weighed in at an even 100 pounds. We each had a very different body build and yet we each, on paper, were the same. By the time I was a cheerleader and was doing a lot of gymnastics I had grown to 5’5″ and was almost 130 pounds. I was solid muscle and could probably be called stocky. But I was one tough cookie. I put on the “Freshman 15″ at the beginning of my first semester of college but when my parents made negative comments at Thanksgiving, I went back to the University of Alabama and lost it all and then some before Christmas break. I also grew to 5’7” where I finally stopped. I was pretty consistent until I quit school and went to work at the Dinner Theatre. There I worked from 8am until past midnight six days a week. I started each day with a pack of Twinkies and a Mountain Dew. The chef brought me lunch each day and I ate from the buffet each night. I went out with the cast every night and often stopped for donuts on the way home. Not one donut, a dozen donuts! I was having work, personal and family issues so I was depressed, but still…
Needless to say I ballooned from 120 pounds to almost 170! And in a matter of about eight months! I left that job and became the most careful dieter you have ever encountered. I measured every ingredient and journaled every calorie that went into my mouth. My portions were miniscule and for all intents I was anorexic. In six months I went from 170 pounds to 105. I was a stick figure. I was unemployed so I exercised all day long. And I ate less and less. It was something I could control in a life gone out of control so I did!
Being a very regimented and precise type of person I realized what was happening and stopped myself before I got ill. I became a vegetarian and in those days it was difficult, not much to choose from. Eventually I did get weak and sick so I resumed a more normal diet. I went to 117 pounds and stayed there. I weighed that when I married, I weighed that when I got pregnant three years later and I weighed that 3 weeks after giving birth. I have weighed that consistently until a few years ago, when Tim got me a personal trainer for Christmas. I actually got smaller but gained weight, muscle weighs more than fat and all that jazz. I ended up being very firm and 120 pounds. I was happy with that. My mom commented how healthy I looked and my doctor asked for training tips- and he was doing P90X!! When my son Jon was in training for college football we worked out a lot together. He called me “The Beast” even though he was 6’4″, 295 pounds of solid muscle. I was very proud of both of us.
And then I returned to college. At first I tried to keep working out, but time got away from me. I was dancing but not very strenuously that first semester. Then there was a semester with no dance at all, but I did “The Bacchae” so I tried to work to stay in shape. I also had to climb over an 11 foot wall each night which was quite the work out! This past year I took ballet both semesters and my body changed a lot. I was toned in a different way, a good way. I was busy in the spring with 20 hours of classes and two shows, as well as ballet and movement so all was well.
This summer has been awful. I have tried to work out every day and most days I have succeeded, but I was alone and not in a gym. I walked as much as I could and turned some of those walks into walk/ runs. But I also read a lot, and went out to eat a lot. I tried new restaurants and when I was home I tried many new and exciting recipes. I had lovely adult beverages and enjoyed dessert almost every night. There always seemed to be something new to try or to celebrate!
Now fortunately my weigh gain has been slow but definitely steady. It hasn’t been so much as to make me need new clothes and I think Kim Kardashian is safe with having the largest back side between the two of us, but I do not feel like myself. Lately, every night I promise myself to do better and some days I have. Most days breakfast and lunch have been easy, but dinner seems to hold my downfall! And while I had painters in the house this past week I have gone for a couple of walks, but I was not going to break out my dance and work out moves in front of them! So I sat and read, planning menus that would make Frank Stitt jealous!
Tonight was the worst. This morning I had a low calorie fruit and nut bar for breakfast and worked out. I had soup for lunch. So far, so good! But tonight we tried a new restaurant- Mudtown. It was quaint, but I knew I was in trouble when we saw fried pickles on the menu. I had wine and then shrimp and grits. The pickles were really good and then the shrimp and grits were plentiful and included andouille sausage. I ate and ate and ate. And I felt awful! When we got home I changed into running gear and headed out for a long run/ walk around the neighborhood. It was dark and I had lots of time to think. To think about what I felt and why I was feeling that way. We are so blessed to live in a land of plenty and I am blessed to have all I could ever want. I don’t want to starve myself like I did before, but I don’t want to overdo either. I know in the big scheme of things I am not fat. I know lots of people who struggle with their weight and again I am blessed that so far, except for my one bout with depression while working at the dinner theatre all of those years ago, I can eat what I want and be OK. I also know it is supposed to be easier to gain weight as we grow older. I agree with Dr. Oz though. He says we just quit being as active and quit caring as we age, that there is no physical reason we gain weight as we age. We just have to stay active and watch our diets. I have another birthday coming up next week and I do not plan to give up anytime soon. So what is my problem?
I don’t feel right. I don’t feel like me. I feel out of control and sloppy. I feel overindulgent and lethargic. I feel like a failure and a slug. The scale only shows five extra pounds but I feel 50 extra lbs. I know that next week I want a birthday dinner and a cupcake. I want to go to restaurant week the next week. I want lunch with the girls and Mexican food with my guys. So where do I draw the line? Today I noticed my upper arm is slowly sliding over my elbow and my chin is beginning to show signs of a wattle. When do I say to hell with it and enjoy my cupcake with no regret? When do I go to wearing sleeves all of the time? When do I turn in my stilettos for orthopedic shoes? When do I watch the scale climb and say “Who cares”?? This birthday, the next one?
Or do I keep fighting the good fight? Do I make myself work out and walk and eat less so I can at least feel youthful and healthy even if my age says differently? I am tired and just want to go to bed. Anyway, I only have two more weeks of summer. How much fatter could I get in two weeks?
