Arse Getting Bigger

Ok, yet again I have failed to come up with anything brilliant for today’s blog. Or anything stupid and boring. I’m not neglecting my duties, it’s just that yesterday instead of spending 3 hours writing and drawing a blog, I had a three hour nap. Yes.

The three hour nap is not unusual for me. I get up pretty early, sometimes because of dogs, and sometimes because I am so excited about having coffee that I can’t get back to sleep. So I have to make up for the lack of zees somewhere. And it’s usually sometime between 11am and 3pm.

I’m sure it’s pretty unhealthy.

Speaking of which, I’m thinking I need to adopt more healthy eating and exercise habits. Again. Seems all that weight I lost by running and not eating much is creeping back. Well, galloping back. I blame truck stop food, vacations, dogs barking and Vector. It is so disheartening to see those pounds returning, and so easily, after months of effort, miles and sacrifice. If you’re like 95% of dieters, you’ll know what I mean.

I don’t think I will ever get back to my lowest weight, and I’m not sure I should. I couldn’t sit in hardback chairs comfortably because my it hurt my spine that stuck out. It was creepy, but eff I looked great. I was a size 8 on my wedding day and looked great, if a bit bobbleheaded. I am no longer a size 8. Sigh. Not so much a bobblehead now as a weeble.

It was nice to be able to know that clothes were going to look great and fit. It was also very expensive. Because I have spent the VAST majority of my life unable to put pants in the dryer, the sudden ability to wear most things successfully was a bit of a crazy drug that ate away at my bank account like I used to eat cookies. If clothes were gold bricks, I’d be the safest bet on Wall Street right now. Sadly, most of those gold bricks no longer fit. I’m really hoping leggings stay in style a little longer.

I’ll be straight with you - it was really hard to lose that weight. I had to run 40 miles a week and eat no more than1800 calories a day - and when you’ve run 10 miles, that leaves you with about 700 calories to function with for the rest of the day. Not a routine easily maintained. It came off fairly quickly and steadily, to be sure, but I had to be vigilant. I’m not sure I can, or want to, go down that road again.

I am torn between two mindsets: One part of me is saying “You’re 45, you can relax a little, a few extra pounds is no big deal, you need a little extra in case you get sick which you will soon enough because you are 45 and things are only going to start breaking down, sister”, and; “You’re making excuses. Get off your fat duff and do something about your arse”. I like the nicey nice talking self better. Of course.

My husband belongs to the latter category. He is of the “pull up your socks and get ‘er done” school of thought on most things (other than making phone calls to repair companies). This is great for unpleasant situations and tasks, not so much for when I want to be coddled. So, I’m not going to get a lot of sympathy from him. My friends say “you look great, don’t worry” but who trusts their friends in these matters? 

So what’s a girl to do?

I’ll think about that while I eat Vector and bagels. Together. With cookies.