So, I’ve got to be honest with you. I’m still trying to lose my Disney Weight. Yes, we went to Walt Disney World in JANUARY. To be even more honest with you, I technically lost those Disney pounds in the springtime, then gained them back last month, which means it should now be called Youth Camp Weight. (I’m not in the habit of eating snack foods at 10pm at night, but when it’s all laid out for you like that at Falls Creek, it’s a crime NOT to eat it. Right? Right.)
I hesitate to write about stuff like this because I can hear some of you now. “You don’t need to lose weight!” And you might be right. “Need” is a strong word. But my philosophy on ideal weight has a legitimate basis. Let me give you an example. You may remember me sharing that I gained fifty pounds with each of my pregnancies. Fifty pounds! At my post-partum check up with Ana, I had lost thirty and was still holding onto twenty. My doctor was pleased with my weight as it was and told me, “This is a good size for you. Totally healthy. Don’t worry about those last twenty pounds!” (But I did. And lost it just in time to get pregnant again and start gaining it all back. Hooray!) At my post-partum check up with Emma, I had lost forty-five pounds and was still holding onto five. My doctor was NOT pleased with my weight as it was and told me, “You still have five pounds to go. Maybe you should train for a marathon.” For real?!
SAME pre-pregnancy weight. Two different doctors, two different philosophies. An American standard and a Japanese standard. Who lives longer? Who enjoys a better quality of life? Who was I seeing every day of my life with their impossibly thin selves? Clearly the Japanese, so I sucked it up, lost the last five pounds and was done. Done, I say! Take that, crazy skinny doctors and midwives! Fear the huge American girl!
Alas, that was then. And shock of all shocks — I was NOT done. Believe it or not, the older I get, the easier it is to gain weight. And the farther I get from my last pregnancy, the less convincing it is when I blame the extra pounds on the girls. (Seriously, if your child is walking and talking, that muffin top is NOT their fault, ladies. Don’t you be projecting that onto them until they’re in college!)
But it’s really not about vanity. It’s not even about health. It’s about the fact that some of my clothes aren’t fitting like they should and I’m way too cheap to go out and replace them. Pragmatism at its finest, y’all.
Through this all, I’m re-learning a simple fact — losing weight is no joke. And it only gets worse with age. The Disney/Youth Camp pounds are perfectly happy where they’re at, and I’ve been forced to go beyond simply running like a mad fool (as I have been all along) to running like a mad fool AND watching what I eat. My husband is absolutely no help at all in this endeavor as he routinely suggests that ice cream is, in fact, a suitable option for dinner. And as he assures me that he much preferred me nine months pregnant when I weighed more than he weighed. (Oh, the horror!) Yes, clearly he is lying and cannot be trusted!
If you’re out there, pounding the pavement and passing up the ice cream (even though it is KILLING you!!!), know that you’re not alone. I’m there, too, with a super-sized helping of grouchiness at times but still there. And I’m convinced, with every pound that disappears off the scale, that the hard work is paying off. Which is good because otherwise I’d just give up entirely and eat ice cream 24-7. (Can you tell what I’ve been craving?!)
How about you? What motivates you to keep exercise/weight loss goals?