****WARNING: HEAVY SELF-PITY AND WALLOWING AHEAD****
I have long acknowledged that I'm overweight. In terms of "standards" (whatever those are), I qualify as obese. Not chubby, not overweight, not heavy, but obese.
I don't FEEL obese.
I received proof in the mail yesterday, though, in the form of some pictures. My friend VT sent some pictures of me and Katydid on the tandem that the BRAG photographer took. There I am, waving at the camera, smiling, having a wonderful time.
With a huge belly hanging over the top tube of the bike.
I could ignore it if it were one picture, but she sent three different shots. Three different days, three different outfits. Same huge belly. I would scan the pictures in and post them here except that I'm afraid the reaction would be, "Well damn if she isn't right....That's one huge belly."
I wouldn't be so inclined to whine about it if I didn't already try my damnedest to do the right thing. I exercise almost every stinking day, except for the days when I exercise TWICE. I eat right for the most part, since Hubby is diabetic and I have to watch what he eats (though I have to admit we've been lax about that lately). Still, I don't pig out on a regular basis. I talk about beer a lot more than I actually drink it; most of the time I drink water. We don't eat a lot of junk.
Seventeen years ago I joined Weight Watchers and lost 50 pounds. Now I weigh 10 pounds more than when I joined WW. I was successful enough that I became a WW leader, but over time I stopped being diligent, then I stopped being careful, then I stopped caring I guess, and the weight all came back.
I realize I'm almost 50 years old and my metabolism has crept away stealthily, but I'm TRYING. Everything I read these days says that in order to lose weight at my age, I need to exercise 1-2 hours every day. Great. Now I need to get up at 4:00 AM instead of 5:00.
I'm not just going to wallow in self-pity (tempting though it may be). I am going to give WW another try, especially since I can do it online now instead of going to weekly meetings. I know I will never be rail-thin, but maybe I can get to the point where it doesn't ruin my whole day to see a picture of me on a bicycle.
Damn getting old. Damn having these genes. Damn being 5'2".