Is this not a mathematical impossibility? If 3,500 calories = one pound, then I would have had to consume 10,500 calories, in addition to the 1,000 or so calories required to sustain my life, to gain those three pounds back. I like to think I would have noticed myself eating 10,500 extra calories in one day. For example, if I'd singlehandedly eaten one of these:
Well, I don't think that could have escaped my attention, not least because I would have wanted to smoke a cigarette and cuddle with the empty plate afterward. It would have been that good.
Anyway, the point here is that I didn't eat an entire Black Forest cake. I didn't eat anything untoward at all. You can't tell me it was the extra handful of sugar-snap peas that put those three pounds back on the scale. But there they are, and here I am, once again unable to zip up my pants without lying down on the bed.
I am not pleased. Not pleased at all.
6 comments:
As I get older, the more my body changes, and the less pleased I am. I just don't get it. I'm not doing anything different. Ugh.
I have many pounds I must lose in the next 13 months. I, too, am not pleased. Sadly, if I could lose just five teeny-tiny pounds (and keep them off), I could go off my blood pressure medicine.
Instead, with the exception of the early days of widowhood (time during which chewing was just too much effort), I cannot drop those pounds. It seems my 'natural instinct' is to weigh what I currently weigh.
I dislike menopause. I dislike aging. I dislike exercise.
And I LOVE sauces, wine, vodka, etc. I eat my veggies, and while I'm not a vegetarian, I'm also not a huge meat eater.
I don't freaking get it, but I'm coming to terms with it.
After all, who would you rather have for a friend? A hungry, grouchy, bitchy woman, or a woman who says, "have another slice of pie and another glass of wine, and give me more dirt on our mutual enemies!"?
No answer required.
P.S. "Many pounds" are actually eight pounds; unfortunately, when you're only five foot, three and a half inches, that's a lot.
Sigh. I hear you.
I'm still hauling pregnancy fat. And, uh, the "baby" is almost 2.
Double sigh.
What if our society saw this body change in women -- which seems to happen to almost all women as we age -- as a beautiful thing? How would our world be different? (Had to, V!) ;)
I can live with the changes -- I just can't afford to keep buying bigger clothes to accommodate them!
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