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It’s been almost two months since I joined the gym. And in just eight weeks I’ve lost 25 pounds and two pants sizes! ...At least, that is what I fantasized I'd be able to say at this point. In reality, my weight loss number is closer to zero. In that, it is zero. I’ve stepped, I’ve swam, I’ve weight lifted, I’ve Yoga-ed, I’ve Zumba-ed, and nothing.  Well, not quite nothing. I haven’t lost any weight but I also haven’t gained any more either and that’s something. In nursing school, we learned that if a patient is getting a med or blood in her IV and she has a bad reaction to it, your first priority is to stop the infusion. Part of fixing the problem is keeping it from getting worse. It seems obvious, but sometimes in noisy situations the simplest, most obvious solution gets lost. I’m pretty sure that is why the instructors drilled it into us. It’s a panacea. I think about stop the infusion a lot, actually. Cutting up the credit cards, backing down from an argument, and putting the preschooler to bed are all examples of stopping the infusion. As is going to the gym...  To really get things moving in the downward direction on the scale, I probably need to change what I eat, i.e., stop the infusion of ice cream. To that end, I totally bought salad greens and have kept them in my refrigerator for the last couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure being near healthy foods is the first step.  As I mentioned before, though, I’m not going back to counting and logging and fretting about what I eat. It’s just not worth it. I know that, eventually, I will build muscle and my body will become more like a furnace and less like a storage unit. I am willing to wait it out a bit longer before I take drastic measures... like eating salad. In the meantime, I no longer feel like I’m going to drown while swimming laps. (Or “laps” as my 9yo daughter likes to say, complete with air quotes -- because she’s condescending.) I can make it through a step class without spending half the time marching in place and the other half watching the clock. And my back no longer aches every morning in that dooming, future-Percocet-addict kind of way. Zero pounds lost is not the whole story.  Also, I really like my gym routine. My instructors are quirky and fun. And the older ladies who are doing Aqua Zumba while I swim my “laps”, with their imperfect skin and fluffy bodies, who obviously do not care at all what anyone thinks of them in their bathing suits, serve as a powerful reminder that being out in the world and moving your body is a beautiful thing, no matter what you look like.
Oh, and I am happy to report that my supernatural tailors haven’t returned lately to take in my pants while I sleep. I don’t think they like the smell of gym clothes. |
I like to throw things.
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