I think the majority of you have complained about your weight at some
stage on your blog. Well you can add me to the list, because this is
another whinge-session on the subject.
Today I realised that I've been struggling with my weight for 12 years!
Twelve years of constantly wanting to shed fat from my hips and tummy.
Twelve years of looking at myself in the mirror everyday, pinching
parts of myself, looking at myself side-on, stepping on scales and
ruining my day, trying on clothes in change rooms - and also ruining
my day. Twelve years of wishing that I was thin and beautiful.
Thing is, I'm not overweight, I've never been overweight. In fact, I
was probably on the thin side for a few years there. Right now, I'm at
a healthy weight. In fact, it's only been in the last two years that
I've had enough weight on my body to actually grow boobs - for the
first time in my life I'm not flat-chested!
Nevertheless, I've always wanted to lose a few kilograms.
Now, the sad part of the story is that most girls do the same thing to
themselves. It's not until a few years down the track that we can look
at pictures of us as a 19 year old and say "My god, I was thin and
pretty - why on earth did I feel fat and awkward?" So right now, as a
27 year old, I wish I had the body that I had 10 years ago (with the
new boobs added).
Yet in 10 years time, I'm probably going to think I looked great as a
27 year old while I stare at myself, wondering how I let myself get to
that stage. Hmmmm...
Everything works against us.
It's not just the old metabolism slowing down with age. I mean, it
happens, but it's also just an excuse. So much of it comes down to the
basic diet and exercise thing.
You know, I find it irritating how everyone wants to give weight-loss
advice. I don't mind hearing people's experiences - in fact, I like
hearing about them - but I can't stand it when people say "apparently
[insert fad diet] causes [insert some pseudo-scientific theory] you
should try [insert homemade advice from someone with no training in
nutrition and dietetics whatsoever]." - grrr! (Okay, I always hate it
when people who think they know about something crap on about
something they know nothing about.)
I do have a point here! And my point is that it's hard. It's easy for
someone to say eat less or exercise more but it's so hard to actually
do it. I also feel sorry for people who have no understanding at all
about nutrition. At least I understand about the kilojoule/calorie
content of various foods and, well, I studied biochemistry, dammit - I
know more than the average person about how food is used by the body.
But that doesn't make it any easier.
Okay, I'm a health professional. I have given advice, loads of times,
to people who try to buy quick fix diet drugs at the pharmacy ("they
don't work, don't waste your money, they're just hope in a bottle")
and I can explain how prescription weight loss medications work
("don't expect miracles, and you still have to make changes to your
diet and do exercise - for life!").
I even am a really healthy person when it comes to food. I eat three
healthy meals a day (cereal, oats or toast for breakfast, a
chicken/ham/beef/cheese and salad sandwich for lunch, and a home
cooked meal for dinner made with fresh ingredients). I snack on fruit,
I don't have more than one coffee a day - no sugar, I drink 2 litres
of water a day, I don't drink much alcohol and if I do, it's never
more than two glasses, and I choose things that don't look too creamy
or oily when I eat out.
If that was just the case, I wouldn't have too much to worry about.
Except for this: I binge.
That's right, despite doing the right thing 99% of the time, as soon
as someone puts chocolate/cheese/dip/chips in front of me, I turn into
a mad person and eat like I'm preparing for the next famine.
It annoys the crap out of me because I'm like this Jekyll and Hyde
character when it comes to my diet. I'm in control *almost* all the
time, and then I'm not - and I ruin everything.
The other side which I really need to work on is the moving about
more. At the moment, I do a dance class once a week, I walk for half
an hour in my lunch breaks at work, and most days, I also walk 20mins
home from the train station. But that's not enough - not for someone
with a sit down job.
When I was working full time as a community pharmacist, I'd easily do
10,000 steps on the pedometer per day on the job. However, it's scary
how little people in sit-down jobs move. We don't move!
We might *think* we do - I mean, I *always* take the stairs - no
elevator for me - but the fact that we spend hours sitting on our rear
ends means that we can never move enough unless we purposely do a lot
of purposeful moving about - each and every day. There's no "days
off" from it - it has to be a regular thing.
At the moment, it's 5.30pm and my pedometer reads : 6,381 steps.
That includes a half hour, fast-paced walk during my lunch break. It's
surprising because I never realised I did do little - I've been up and
about - but it's nowhere near the amount of movement I should be
doing. I have to do *twice* that to even try to lose a little weight.
I need to do 10,000 a day to just maintain this shape and not go to
seed. (And yes, I know pedometers do not measure the intensity of
exercise, but they're a great indicator to prompt people into
realising how much, or how little, they do in any given day.)
Okay, now that I've gone on and on and on here, I think that there is
no point to this rant at all! I just had two points to make:
1. Stop binging Jezzy, you undo all your good work.
2. Move it, girl. You have to burn baby, burn all that stuff off -
particularly if someone's brought cake into work.
I just want, for one moment in my life, to be able to be one of those
thin fashionista-types. I want to be hot. I know it's superficial, but
it'll make me happy, dammit!
4 comments:
Thing is Jezzy, it probably wont make you happy, because there's always a bit more to lose, or a bit of your body that you're not happy with! And nobody really wants to end up looking like Posh Spice do they?
That said, I know where you're coming from. I've always been pretty small, and still never truly happy with my body. I'm not sure what the answer is though.
And what are you talking about, you are hot!
I hear ya. I used to weigh 105kg at my pretty average height of 5'10"-ish, but then I went on a diet which was part Body-for-Life, part Montignac, part Syndrome-X... and got down to 85kg in the space of a year. Then I moved out of home and got back up to 98kg at my heaviest... then went on a proper Atkins diet and dropped to 82kg. Now I tend to hover between 88-92kg.
But it doesn't matter how much weight I lose (or gain, for that matter); my arse is always two sizes from my waist... which, like most things, I seem to have inherited from my mother and her South American genetics. Big Latino Butt and all that.
I tell people that I have a 34 waist and a 38 bum... and it's true... and they laugh, because they don't understand just how fµcking difficult it is find appropriately proportioned pants. If they fit around the hips, my butt sticks out like silicon tits from a bimbette's chest. If they snuggle the seat, they keep falling down everywhere else and are usually too long in the leg. Argh!
Most of my wardrobe is from the mid-to-late 90s, when it was more fashionable to wear an overshirt (which always covered my Achilles' Bum)... but sometimes, especially in summer... I really just want to dress up nicely with shirt and belt and pants without looking I've had a bum lift/tuck/implant. For now, though, my big black coat(s) and I are well acquainted... I am almost perpetually inside one... which scores some strange looks in 45 degree summer heat... which I don't feel anyway, because it's all about humidity for me (yech!).
But anyway, that's a completely different set of damage.
I keep telling myself "lose some weight, then do some heavy-duty clothes shopping!" since most of my wardrobe is frayed or worn (no pun intended) in one way or another, but the motivation, and especially during a mid-winter depressive funk, is simply not there. The fact that I have a wedding to attend at the end of November seems to kick me along quite nicely, so I know that'll be enough to get me into the spare room with the weights and the treadmill, instead of heading straight for the kitchen with its endless temptations of spring onion dip and Barbeque Shapes and those tubes of instant coffee/condensed milk (which you're supposed to mix with hot water, but ended up being sucked dry in the space of about 20 minutes). Oh, and have I ever mentioned that I am a two-dollar whore for cookies and cream icecream?
*does the bum dance*
I am only skinny, with boobs, and able to eat whatever I want when breastfeeding children. I think it's time to have another baby. That's all I'm sayin' ;)
I give up. I lost inches but not weight most of my life.
I settle for getting into the pants I have now. I got rid of the "skinny clothes".
I like my men like draft horses and I need a man who likes a big woman.
I never was skinny, I never will be skinny and I may as well have some more ice cream while that though rings through my brain...
LOL
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