I am 44 and 11/12ths years of age and me and my perimenopausal self are retaining two things today: water and a bad attitude.
This post won't be for the faint of heart or the easily offended, but it might be exactly what the neurotically driven and easily frustrated types are calling for.
But there I go already, talking about myself.
It all began a few days ago when I pulled my Lucky jeans off the rack in the basement where they spend their time drying (you didn't think I put my fancy Sweet n' Low jeans in the dryer did you? I'm not that masochistic). I knew they'd feel snug after a washing—even in cold water—because I wasn't born yesterday. I get how jeans roll.
Except that my oh so Lucky jeans were trying to roll over some new chub in my general ass region, and the region in question wasn't having any part of it. At least not willingly.
After pouring putting the jeans on, repeatedly assuming a tight fetal squat position and stretching with all my might, they still felt just a titch too snug.
Now don't get me wrong here, they were buttonable and all, but let's just say buttonable is a loose term compared to the last time they graced my muffin top-clad bod.
The problem really crystalized on Day 2, when I put them on for a second full day of wearing, and they felt exactly the same. Usually after a day they stretch out enough to make the second day a much more pleasurable and life affirming experience.
But this time? No noticeable shift in snuggage.
And then all of a sudden, everything felt too snug: my bra, my shirt, my vest, my socks, my underwear—even my glasses. I made a beeline to the Sweatshirt and Yoga Pant drawer in my bedroom, and officially gave up on being a presentable middle aged woman for that particular day.
Just like George Costanza said about sweatpants being a sign that you've given up, well… yoga pants say pretty much the same thing, ladies.
Here's where I tell you that today I'm struggling. Struggling with the day in and day out effort it takes to maintain a healthy lifestyle. If today is your Day 1 of the process, please, for the love of Jillian Michaels, STOP reading now.
The struggle is a part of this process, though. After 14 months of exercise, eating right, and a corresponding 30-pound-ish weight loss, I'll be honest: some things do get easier.
And some things ebb and flow.
Getting the muster to exercise is not a challenge for me any more. Sure, I'll skip a swimming day every now and then, mostly because I don't like the fact that on Thursdays, I can't get into the pool until Noon, and Noon is during my official work hours, and sometimes I think the need to earn income is more important than dousing myself in chlorine. But by and large, the exercise thing is not something I struggle with.
Right now, I'm struggling with what I assume the results should be with such a concerted effort on my part. True, I was playing fast and loose with Weight Watchers for a while there, but the past two weeks have seen me emerge as a model plan participant.
But that particpant's jeans are getting tighter, and no, it's not because my butt is getting more muscular. That I can guarantee you.
A one-pound gain at my bathroom weigh in on Saturday isn't exactly boosting my morale much either.
Don't get me wrong. I am neurotic where my body image and weight issues are concerned. I promise you that I'm working diligently to uncover the real truths in my life that cause me to have these particular issues. That said, it still doesn't erase the fact that some days, I'm going to feel unlucky in my jeans when they're feeling too tight for comfort.
I am going to question the work, the planning and the focus.
I am going to get tired of making the newer, more healthful meals that no one really likes as much as the older, less healthful ones.
I am going to wonder what it's going to take body wise and weight wise for me to stop beating myself up for any perceived lack of success.
I am going sometimes think to myself, "Aw, f#@& it. Those donuts aren't going to kill you."
My point today is that if you're in this process with me, you know that not every day is stellar. Not every day is full of wild success and inspiration. Not every day is going to feel all that lucky.
But the part that is pretty lucky? Each new day you're lucky enough to get is a fresh start to live the best possible life you know how to.
I'm still in. I just really needed to get that off my chest.