I’ve lost a lot of weight.
The funny thing about that is that when I actively attempted to lose weight in the past I was always struggling to get under 180. Nothing I did seemed to effect any change on that. Six months after my divorce I settled in at about 135-140. Which put me pretty much universally into a women’s size 6.
I posted a while back about my thrill at reaching a size 8. Size 6 was a surprise discovered in the dressing room of an Old Navy and verified in the dressing room of a JC Penney encompassing a variety of brand name jeans.
Feeling pretty smug about it, I went ahead and looked up those dumb height-weight chart/BMI calculators online.
Stupidest thing I could have done! I am still considered overweight.
So now I am even more obsessed with my body, my weight and my FAT. Thank you, stupid charts!
I am now aiming for under 125. Which isn’t happening as easily. I swear in those six months following my divorce that pounds simply chose to drop off me with no effort on my part. They were just like, “Oh, well, our time here is done. See ya!”
Not the case anymore. I don’t know if it’s the stress of moving, being financially strapped, dealing on a daily basis with moody teen girls, or what. But I’ve actually gained 5 pounds back in the past 9 weeks!
Granted, the first couple of weeks here I took full advantage of finally having a kitchen to myself again. I baked breads, pizzas, homemade soft pretzels, full course dinners, cakes, cookies, brownies, cinnamon rolls — all the stuff I hadn’t been able to do and missed doing.
There’s so much satisfaction in combining a bunch of ingredients and creating something delicious — none of that add water and eggs boxed crap that delivers no sense of pride of accomplishment here! Perhaps that is the culprit. I shouldn’t have eaten it after I made it! 😉
Going to be heading back to grilled chicken breasts and steamed veggies now, and taking the rest of my household with me. Clocked in about 8 miles this week using an iPhone app called RunKeeper and hoping to clock in 10 next week to work my way up to something decent. We shall see how it goes.
In the meantime, I’ve concluded those BMI charts can go to hell. I won’t be visiting them again when I hit size 4 — because honestly, I feel like that’s freaking TINY compared to the size 14s, 16s and 18s I’ve journeyed through over the past twenty years!