Well, who said this would be easy? As I step on the scale (yes, yes, I know) I heave a big sigh. It doesn’t go down. Ever. It goes up but then right back, day after stinking day. Never down. The measuring tape isn’t playing well either. My jeans don’t fit better. I eat healthy, I exercise 5-6 times a week for at least an hour (and that’s not counting yoga). It’s a brisk, get your heart pumping exercise too, not a leisurely stroll around the mall. I sweat. A lot. So why oh why aren’t I getting smaller?
Patience you say. It’s been six months! I say. How much patience can a human have?
As I put a spoonful of cookie dough into my mouth, I asked my daughter, “why do I bother exercising?” “So you can eat cookie dough.” she said matter-of-factly. Hmmm. True. I’d just returned from a rigorous toning/yoga class with weights. It kicks my butt. What if I don’t eat the cookie dough AND still exercise you ask? Nothing. I’ve tried that. At one point or another I’ve tried it all. I’ve given up sugar. I’ve given up white flour. I exercise an hour a day, do yoga an hour, eat fruits, veg, grains and lean protein. Nothing. I’ve done no exercise, eaten pizza and still, nothing. So…what is the missing link? What is that ONE little thing I’m doing wrong that makes my body refuse to shed these extra pounds? And don’t tell me this is just where my body is supposed to be, because I’ll throw something at you. I know it’s not. I would be happy with 10 pounds less, despite needing to lose closer to 20 to be in the normal range. I don’t want to be Twiggy. I’d be happy with Marilyn. I want to lose the muffin top.
So, I sigh heavily, pack my lunch of fresh gazpacho, beans and rice and yogurt. I’ll snack on a banana with natural peanut butter and probably have at least one cookie at my meeting tonight. Counting my calories, I’ll stay within my goal of 1300-1400 after exercise. I’ll sweat my ass off on the elliptical for an hour, shower and go to sleep. And get up and do it all again tomorrow. Because at this point, what else can I do?