Life has finally caught up to me, and although I own several fairly new bathing suits, I found myself, as my grandkids would say, “still growing.” I had to have a new one. I dreaded it, and I knew by the number on the scale and the other clothes I’ve had to buy recently, that it would probably be a much bigger size than I’m used to ever wearing.
I could have stressed about it. I am stressed about my weight. I don’t want to weigh more than my last pregnancy weight. I don’t want to wear a size this large, and I want to be able to reach over and tie and untie my shoes without grunting, “Ugh!”
But, as much as I didn’t want to have to try on that size bathing suit, I knew I couldn’t squeeze myself into an old one, and look any kind of good. So, I sucked it up, and went shopping at a discount store that almost always has cute clothes in stock. I must have picked a good day, because I found two – one in the size I need now, and it’s pretty cute – and one in the next smaller size, in case I do lose those first 10 pounds. I wore the new one last weekend, watched the grandkids play, and picked up a bit of a tan.
This morning, though, I had to go in for a physical. I usually don’t mind that, I love my P.A., but I know I’m at least 20 pounds heavier than I was last year, and I wasn’t happy about my weight then. She quizzed me for a bit, and I said something about wishing I weren’t this big, and she told me that when women get to a certain age, they just gain weight. The only way to stop it, she said, is to do 30 minutes of aerobics, every day, without fail. I made a face. Since I’m in between jobs, I’ve started talking a 20 minute walk most mornings, but not all. I go to the gym 2-3 times a week, but not daily. And those meds I’m on that make me hungry sure don’t help.
A few months ago, I tried one of those mobile apps for people into fitness. It let me track my intake, calories and exercise on a daily basis. I did that for about six weeks, and lost four pounds. Then I went to visit my mother, and ate some Tudor’s biscuits, and some Gino’s pizza bread. And . . . you get the picture. I didn’t exercise. I came back home, the weight came back, and I thought about all those teeny, tiny portions I’m supposed to be eating and keeping track of to keep my calories under 1,200 a day. No wonder people hate dieting.
I decided to try to eat more veggies, and consume less sugar. And keep up with the walking and the gym. I’ve never lost weight easily, or fast. My P.A. said all my lab numbers are fine, and to keep up the good work. I have too many other things to stress about right now without obsessing about that number on the scale, or the size of my latest bathing suit. I’d like to be a size 10 again, but I think I’m better off concentrating on how good proper exercise and a better diet will make me feel.
Like all women, I’d like to be fabulous looking and fit. I know I have some control over that, but some seasons of life are easier than others. And some seasons are slimmer, too.
It’s bathing suit season. I’m not the size I want to be, but I do have a cute bathing suit. And who else, knows, or cares what size it is, anyway? I’m ready for the beach.