A Year of Eating Healthfully
I've always had a hate relationship with the scale. Ever since sixth grade, when we had to be weighed in front of everyone, and I weighed in at a beefy 106 pounds, I've avoided scales and weighing myself. I didn't know it then, but I was five feet tall as a sixth grader, and according to the charts, I was only six pounds heavier than the chart said was normal. But even the chart didn't take into account the type of body one might have. Over the years, I've learned a lot about body types and how a person's body type affects what that person will weigh. Also, each individual has a weight that his/her body is most comfortable at, making it difficult for that person to get to a lower weight. All through high school, from freshman year through my senior year, I couldn't get under 150 pounds. I played volleyball, basketball, and ran track, but I could not budge the scale to 149 or less. Today, almost thirty years beyond high school, my weight still likes to edge up towards 150, but with a lot of diligence and cardio workouts, I'm maintaining in the lower 140's.
I still don't get on the scale very often. I definitely still have issues with the numbers, so I try to go by how my clothes are fitting. A year ago, my clothes were tight. I refused to buy new sizes as I knew I needed to do something to get the weight under control. When a person lives with someone who totally doesn't care about what goes into his/her mouth, that person starts adopting those same bad habits. It's just easier. And all that greasy food, that sweet food, that fast food starts showing up around the waist, on the hips, and all over the backside. My clothes were beginning to protest, and I'd know this for awhile though I just kept telling myself I was imagining it. Then I saw a picture of myself from Christmas at the in-laws. E-gad. That was enough for me to say enough.
The next day, I ordered P90X and began the ninety days of getting back into shape. I also bought a juicer to begin a juice cleanse. In the first ninety days, I lost twelve pounds. Not a huge amount of weight, but it was half of the total I wanted to lose. I knew it was going to take time. The pounds didn't pile up overnight, so they weren't going to come off overnight either. I also knew I needed to make a commitment to eating healthfully each and every day in order to avoid having to go through this again. When the ninety days ended, I switched to running on the treadmill and have been running ever since. I know I've lost a few more pounds, but I can't bring myself to get on the scale. I look at it everyday, but this awful feeling creeps through my limbs, spreads through my torso, and only when I walk away does the awful feeling abate. So I continue to go by what my clothes are telling me. They're all saying thank you now. All are much looser on me, and I bought a pair of size six slacks the other day. I have not been a size six ever. I was stunned. Profoundly happy, but stunned.
With nearly a year of self-improvement over, I'm looking forward to the another year of continued improvement. Now, the focus is less on losing the weight and more on increasing my endurance, less on the scale and the numbers that will stare back at me, and more on chosing healthy foods. I love shopping for healthy foods, trying all the different combinations of veggies that can go through the juicer, and being strong enough to say no to a cheeseburger and fries. This year has been a good year, and I'm confident the Christmas pictures will show this to be true.
I still don't get on the scale very often. I definitely still have issues with the numbers, so I try to go by how my clothes are fitting. A year ago, my clothes were tight. I refused to buy new sizes as I knew I needed to do something to get the weight under control. When a person lives with someone who totally doesn't care about what goes into his/her mouth, that person starts adopting those same bad habits. It's just easier. And all that greasy food, that sweet food, that fast food starts showing up around the waist, on the hips, and all over the backside. My clothes were beginning to protest, and I'd know this for awhile though I just kept telling myself I was imagining it. Then I saw a picture of myself from Christmas at the in-laws. E-gad. That was enough for me to say enough.
The next day, I ordered P90X and began the ninety days of getting back into shape. I also bought a juicer to begin a juice cleanse. In the first ninety days, I lost twelve pounds. Not a huge amount of weight, but it was half of the total I wanted to lose. I knew it was going to take time. The pounds didn't pile up overnight, so they weren't going to come off overnight either. I also knew I needed to make a commitment to eating healthfully each and every day in order to avoid having to go through this again. When the ninety days ended, I switched to running on the treadmill and have been running ever since. I know I've lost a few more pounds, but I can't bring myself to get on the scale. I look at it everyday, but this awful feeling creeps through my limbs, spreads through my torso, and only when I walk away does the awful feeling abate. So I continue to go by what my clothes are telling me. They're all saying thank you now. All are much looser on me, and I bought a pair of size six slacks the other day. I have not been a size six ever. I was stunned. Profoundly happy, but stunned.
With nearly a year of self-improvement over, I'm looking forward to the another year of continued improvement. Now, the focus is less on losing the weight and more on increasing my endurance, less on the scale and the numbers that will stare back at me, and more on chosing healthy foods. I love shopping for healthy foods, trying all the different combinations of veggies that can go through the juicer, and being strong enough to say no to a cheeseburger and fries. This year has been a good year, and I'm confident the Christmas pictures will show this to be true.
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