Gettin' My Diet Groove On

Well, it's been 3 months since I started and I've lost 22 pounds. To be honest, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to do it. Now that I've hit that weird world of "The Mid Thirties" (yes, please note the capital letters) I've come to realize that it really IS a wee bit more difficult to lose the weight; rigorous exercise DOES make me a little more tired; the pounds just don't melt off like they once did.

This has been an ongoing thing in my life. I remember having a big life-altering change in my mid 20's: I divorced my first (gasp!) husband and got on a health program; became a vegan vegetarian who ate 50% raw and lost like 40 pounds. I would smile smugly when people would tell me I was "almost too thin" and dated and wore clothes that I had never been able to fit into as a teenager...and have never been able to fit into since.



I think the last time I was actually petite and not really aware or neurotic about what I was eating was when I was about...five. Maybe even earlier. Two or three. That's kinda sad, when I think about it. I mean...I wonder...is there ever going to be a time in my life when I don't have to plan meals ahead of time or put thought into caloric intake at every meal? Or if I decide to splurge and eat out with friends or a companion, and eat like they do, not kill myself at the gym later?

I have to answer honestly: probably not. My body is just not made to eat like everyone else. I was out with someone a week ago and we were having dinner at a really nice restaurant and I was going to order a salad and an appetizer as my entree. He insisted that I order a full entree "It's the weekend! You're relaxing!" and split dessert with him. It was nice, but later I thought about it and was really annoyed the next few days because HE wasn't going to have to deal with the repercussions of eating a full meal like that in the way I would - nor would he understand.

I see girls eating pizza, really skinny girls, with a regular coke, and I wonder: Where was I when God was handing out the rapid metabolism genes?

My mother was thin all her life. She was a sex symbol all throughout her adulthood. Even now, at the age she's at, I would DIE to have a figure like hers - as would most of my friends (including the thin ones). How come I didn't get to wade into that end of the gene pool? Don't get me wrong...I'm relatively happy with the cards I was dealt; I'm attractive, I have a "youthful" looking face (from both of my parents) and I've done okay...but in the "look at food and gain weight" department, I ended up with the shit end of the stick.

So...at the age of 35, I am finding that I can't do it on my own anymore like I thought I could. I have yo-yo'd so much that I think I broke my string. But I have been using Nutrisystem and the gym, and for now, that is doing the trick. The food is wonderful and I've been very happy on it.

I just get a little unhappy sometimes when I think about the fact that I have to always always keep in mind WHAT I'm going to eat BEFORE I even eat it...like a day before, sometimes. So much for spontaneity...or bread...or wine. I really miss booze. LOL

Oh well, I guess my aspirations to be a gutter lush will have to wait.

So...Spring Is Just Around the Corner...And I Look Like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man

...and with Spring almost here, that means that summer is right around the lil' corner right after that one. I'm not prepared for either, you see, because this winter I have put on more weight than I thought possible.



You know you're in trouble when it's winter and you are self-conscious about the coat you're wearing being too bulky anyway...but now you are worried that you might take people out accidently as you try to navigate your way through small intimate restaurants, crowded department stores, and even on city streets.

A mere walk through the park can turn into a possible unintentional homicide if you turn and accidently bump into someone, your hips making contact with them with enough force to crush an oncoming vehicle. You turn again to apologize and take out three asian tourists, your arm so massive it crushes their cameras right into their chests, which later the NY CSI crew are unable to remove without a crowbar. You bend over to try to help someone up and your left butt cheek, billowing in the wind like jello on a plate at a tired cafeteria, almost decapitates an elderly woman's Yorkshire Terrier, Maltese, and West Highland Terrier. What saves them is that because your ass is so fat, the right butt cheek compensated, and due to the fact that your heels are worn down on your right side, you fall, crushing a stoner on a skateboard.

His dying words are: "Dude."

Obviously I used the 2nd person in this hopefully fictional account, but really know that it's my fat ass that I'm talking about. So, in light of that, I think I'm getting myself to the gym this week and ordering Nutrisystem.

Wish me luck; for the sake of myself and all of New York City.