Sunday, July 19, 2009

Scary Numbers....

I went to the doctor's office on Friday because I was out of refills on my blood pressure medicine. I have been monitoring my weight ..... watching it go UP, I mean ..... but I was still unprepared for the scary number I saw on the scale at the doctor's office. It was only 3 pounds less than when I went into labor. Unless I can manage to give birth to another 7.5 pound tumor, I'm in trouble.

I'm an avoider. Normally I don't even look when they weigh me at the doctor's office. I just look down while they keep sliding that heavy, noisy thingie across the top of the scale. Looking down was what got me in trouble this time. They have a snazzy new DIGITAL scale, and the display is located somewhere below the beltline. I guess it's slightly less humiliating that every person in the room can't see your weight.

What I can't figure out is why THAT number was scary. And all the other ones in between a healthy weight and the scary one weren't scary themselves. Why hasn't every single number higher than the number before scared me into taking some kind of action?

I wish losing weight meant DOING something instead of NOT doing something. I was already trying to depend on daily exercise to overcome what I put in my mouth every day, and that obviously isn't working, not at this age. I'm a DOER. I get things accomplished by DOING. It's so hard to lose weight because I have to AVOID doing something. Not easy for me.

I'm embarrassed to say that I lost 50 pounds once before. It was 16 years ago. I don't know how I managed to let myself gain that first 5 pounds back, never mind the 45 that followed it.

The scary number, however, has prompted me to reevaluate. Or perhaps evaluate. I've got to stop relying on exercise as my only means to lose weight. I've got to reduce the number of calories I eat and stop making excuses.

I would like to say I've struggled with my weight all my life. What's closer to the truth is that I've let it win.

I don't know why I have such a problem with food. Whether I'm at a buffet or one of those posh places where you get tiny (appropriate?) portions, I have this fear that I'm not going to get enough food. And once I get it, I feel obligated to eat it. All. And more.

This has got to stop. While I consider myself healthy because of the amount of exercise I get, it can't be good for my heart to have to squeeze blood through all this blubber.

Time to turn over a new leaf. Fifty pounds by the time I turn fifty. Fifty by fifty. It doesn't have to refer to my dimensions.

2 comments:

Julie said...

I know, I know! I weigh the same as I did nine months pregnant. Since I also still wear the same size clothing, I'm guessing that the clothing manufacturers are Americanizing clothing. I tried to put some 20 year old pants on the other day just to see. It was horrible, I could get them on my butt, but there was no way that snap was going to meet. I've cut way back on my food intake, tried to cut out a lot of fat, only eat chicken and fish; but still the weight just sits there. Unfair!!!!!!!!!

KatyDid53 said...

I'm right there with you, baby girl! Only I'm actually 20 pounds HEAVIER than I was the day I gave birth. There's just something not quite right about that.