I was going to write this up last night, but I found myself watching Good Eats on Amazon Prime and eating multiple snacks and desserts, instead. My brain is failing me and letting me fall back into old habits. (But that’s another post.)
All things considered — Christmas cookies at home and at work, mainly — December was actually a pretty decent month on the health and weight loss front. My average weight trend has been pretty level since late summer (which is preferable to the steady gains I was seeing before that), and December was no exception.
December Non-Scale Victories:
- Mon 4 Dec: Needed more lunch, and decided on something healthy; when I went to actually buy it, I stuck to what I’d planned instead of buying something else that looked good (but wasn’t as healthy).
- Fri 8 Dec: Didn’t eat after dinner. Not a damned thing.
I’m sure there were more, but those were the only ones I wrote down. Something about planning a fairly healthy Christmas dinner would probably belong on the list.
As far as activity goes, I attended at least one fitness class per week (usually kickboxing), and sometimes supplemented with a walk or a second fitness class. I want to get myself back up to three workouts or walks per week, though — I haven’t been quite that active since September, and I know it will help me not only get to my weight goal but also to feel better and regain some of my core and upper body strength.
In retrospect, I really don’t have much to say about December, in terms of my weight loss efforts. I ate with the intention of maintaining my weight through the holidays, which I did. Even though I’d count that a victory, I’m still in the same headspace I’ve been in for the past several months: my clothes don’t fit right, my arms look like I haven’t practiced yoga regularly in over a year, and that spare tire I love to hate is back with a vengeance.
I bought a shirt from eShakti, where you can pay a $10 upcharge to have garments customized to your exact measurements. When I got the shirt, it was well made and tailored to fit me exactly. I was so uncomfortable with how accurately it fit my contours that I wore support shapewear beneath it the first time I wore it to work. That’s where I’m at right now.
There’s a relatively new employee in my building who has been attending classes at the Fitness Center at my work. She’s taller than me by two inches, and quite fit, and it’s so hard not to compare myself to her… even though I probably have 15 years on her. The tough part is that she’s built like me, proportionally speaking, but like me if I were on the low end of my ideal weight range. My brain vacillates between focusing on the workout and focusing on how much I wish I could just turn a dial, like on an old TV set, and adjust my horizontal so my proportions would be more like hers.
I wrote this in September and never posted it, but it’s as relevant now as it was then:
Today’s kickboxing class was a late one, scheduled for 1:10pm. I was glad there was a class scheduled at a time I could attend, even if it was much later than usual. I’d packed my newest pair of workout capris; an old, blousy tank top; and my most supportive sports bra — the one with the underwires AND the shelf AND the crissy-crossy straps AND the real, honest-to-god hook-and-eye fasteners.
I always stand where I can see myself in the wall-sized mirror, since I tend to feed off of my own in-the-zone-ness when I can see it. However, I hadn’t taken into account that I bought my workout capris when I was ten pounds lighter, so the mirror had the opposite effect I wanted today. Every knee up, every kick, nearly every goddamn move made my spare tire uncomfortably visible through the gauzy blue tank top. On top of that, I’d already been bemoaning my once-almost-firm now-flabby upper arms today.
It wasn’t so much that I felt self-conscious — I knew all the people in class with me, and have been in fitness classes with them long enough to know that they aren’t the kind to judge. We’re all focusing on our own workout here. What I felt was twofold: feeling physically unfit, and feeling disappointment for letting myself get to this point.
It was so hard for me to get in the zone and let myself just do the workout. Every side kick gave me a wedgie, for one thing, and I had to focus on keeping my abs braced for all the jumping jacks and criss-cross moves, to protect my back.
All I can do is keep myself on track. Beating myself up isn’t going to help. Making fitness a priority is what’s going to help.
I miss feeling comfortable in my skin. I had it for such a brief time, and I miss it.