150.
Really, I'm shocked. I've slowed down but I haven't gained anything back, which is sort of a miracle over the Christmas holidays. I'm extremely lucky in that my winter holidays seem to be a lot less food-saturated than those of many people: My office Christmas party is a very modest mid-afternoon get-together; most of our friends are not the party-hosting types; my mother does not like to cook so we've never had big holidays meals. I'm really subject to very little potential temptation.
Being off of work makes it harder since, obviously, there's more food and more boredom at home. On the up side, being off makes it easier to squeeze in exercise.
As I mentioned earlier, we went to dinner on Christmas Eve with some friends. On a whim, I dug out of my closet, and tried on, the black Ann Taylor straight skirt I got secondhand when I switched from a scrubs-wearing job to an office job. It fit perfectly when I bought it, but hasn't fit at all in a couple of years.
Lo and behold--it fits again!
I did as much of a happy dance as one can do in a mid-shin-length pencil skirt, and then reached for the pink calico skirt with cummerbund waist that I made, wore about twice, and then promptly outgrew. I tried it on a couple of months and probably fifteen pounds ago and it was still absolute and total wishful thinking. I've been trying to convince myself to cut it up and reuse the fabulous fabric but I love the girliness of it so much, and love the idea of it so much, that I haven't been able to do it.
Lucky thing I didn't cut it up, because it fits, too. Well, very nearly. A couple more pounds and I'll be right back into it.
I've (re-)gained a whole wardrobe! My skirts fit again. My expensive-and-shockingly-awesome Western shirts fit again. Things I never dreamed I'd wear again . . . fit.
I'm seriously stunned. I can't imagine how people feel who actually lose significant amounts of weight. I only went from 174 to 150, which is pretty respectable percentage-wise--what is that, 15? 16 percent?--but really means that I wasn't that big in the first place and basically went from bigger-normal to simply normal. Not really that big a deal. Not like my ex-boyfriend, who has lost 135 pounds and counting. That is an achievement. (And he quit smoking!)
I've also realized that I've shrunk myself back into the size range where I can start sewing up my dress patterns without having to a lot of alteration. They'll still need alterations over the hips and backside (because being smaller doesn't mean I'm suddenly in proportion. Unfortunately) but I won't have to resize them.
I know all this blabber about clothes sounds superficial but it's serious motivation not to get lazy again and let my weight creep back up (I'm not saying that everyone who gains weight is lazy, but in my case, it was all about laziness).
I've already committed to jogging more. I've only been managing twice a week but I'm determined to make it three times a week, alternating with walking. It bothers my legs less now that I'm both stronger and lighter, and of course I don't get winded like I used to.
I've also realized how lucky I am not to have had a mother who dieted. I know that she did worry some about her weight--she's taller and larger-framed than I am and tends to flesh out more than I do--but she never talked about it in front of us. I was spared a lot of food-related emotional trauma.
Also, bless her heart, she never says a thing about my weight until after I've lost it. She's told me twice that I was getting "a little chubby", but said it after I'd trimmed down on my own. Again, I've never been really heavy, but I've been tubby enough that a weight-conscious mother could have made me very uncomfortable. Thanks, Mom!
Really, I'm shocked. I've slowed down but I haven't gained anything back, which is sort of a miracle over the Christmas holidays. I'm extremely lucky in that my winter holidays seem to be a lot less food-saturated than those of many people: My office Christmas party is a very modest mid-afternoon get-together; most of our friends are not the party-hosting types; my mother does not like to cook so we've never had big holidays meals. I'm really subject to very little potential temptation.
Being off of work makes it harder since, obviously, there's more food and more boredom at home. On the up side, being off makes it easier to squeeze in exercise.
As I mentioned earlier, we went to dinner on Christmas Eve with some friends. On a whim, I dug out of my closet, and tried on, the black Ann Taylor straight skirt I got secondhand when I switched from a scrubs-wearing job to an office job. It fit perfectly when I bought it, but hasn't fit at all in a couple of years.
Lo and behold--it fits again!
I did as much of a happy dance as one can do in a mid-shin-length pencil skirt, and then reached for the pink calico skirt with cummerbund waist that I made, wore about twice, and then promptly outgrew. I tried it on a couple of months and probably fifteen pounds ago and it was still absolute and total wishful thinking. I've been trying to convince myself to cut it up and reuse the fabulous fabric but I love the girliness of it so much, and love the idea of it so much, that I haven't been able to do it.
Lucky thing I didn't cut it up, because it fits, too. Well, very nearly. A couple more pounds and I'll be right back into it.
I've (re-)gained a whole wardrobe! My skirts fit again. My expensive-and-shockingly-awesome Western shirts fit again. Things I never dreamed I'd wear again . . . fit.
I'm seriously stunned. I can't imagine how people feel who actually lose significant amounts of weight. I only went from 174 to 150, which is pretty respectable percentage-wise--what is that, 15? 16 percent?--but really means that I wasn't that big in the first place and basically went from bigger-normal to simply normal. Not really that big a deal. Not like my ex-boyfriend, who has lost 135 pounds and counting. That is an achievement. (And he quit smoking!)
I've also realized that I've shrunk myself back into the size range where I can start sewing up my dress patterns without having to a lot of alteration. They'll still need alterations over the hips and backside (because being smaller doesn't mean I'm suddenly in proportion. Unfortunately) but I won't have to resize them.
I know all this blabber about clothes sounds superficial but it's serious motivation not to get lazy again and let my weight creep back up (I'm not saying that everyone who gains weight is lazy, but in my case, it was all about laziness).
I've already committed to jogging more. I've only been managing twice a week but I'm determined to make it three times a week, alternating with walking. It bothers my legs less now that I'm both stronger and lighter, and of course I don't get winded like I used to.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I've also realized how lucky I am not to have had a mother who dieted. I know that she did worry some about her weight--she's taller and larger-framed than I am and tends to flesh out more than I do--but she never talked about it in front of us. I was spared a lot of food-related emotional trauma.
Also, bless her heart, she never says a thing about my weight until after I've lost it. She's told me twice that I was getting "a little chubby", but said it after I'd trimmed down on my own. Again, I've never been really heavy, but I've been tubby enough that a weight-conscious mother could have made me very uncomfortable. Thanks, Mom!
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