The life of a writer is both solitary and sedentary. Meaning, I am alone and sit on my ass for the majority of the day. LOL
Not that I don't enjoy doing both, but these behaviors tend to result in surly attitude and widening hips. The first, I have to admit, I've always had, but the second ... I hate. As a teen I thought I had a weight problem. Now, as a grown up, I realize the weight problem was only physical development -- **shudder** boobs, butt, and hormones! Nothing feels worse than to go from a Size 10 in the childen's department to a Size 14, then Size 16 in the women's section in one summer, simply because "melons" develop on your chest and your waist gets smaller than your hips.
Thirty-two years ago I went from 85 pounds to 135 pounds in one summer. Yes, part of it was reaction to the emotional issues facing me (in the form of my parents' divorce) but the other part was puberty. I hated my body and all the icky changes taking place in it. As a grown up, I've tried to put it all in perspective. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But what I have learned is being healthy is more important than being skinny.
I write about women with full figures because I have that. I may not like the big boobs and 'child-bearing' hips, but nature gave them to me and I'm dealing. Unfortunately, my full-figure has gotten a bit out of hand. I know this not because of the mirror, or the pictures of me, or even the plethora of stick figure advertisements bombarding me with what NY ad agencies consider my 'short-comings', but because my asthma has been out of control.
I'm not new to lung problems...I was born with asthma and have spent countless hours of my life in emergency rooms and doctors' offices over the last four and a half decades trying to treat and manage my asthma. One factor that makes it worsen: excess weight. And, I freely admit, I have a lot of that. About 70 pounds worth.
I have tried numerous methods to manage my weight over the years. As a teen I tried diets and diet pills. No bulimia -- so don't do the barfing thing -- and starvation wasn't my schtick -- I love food too much. In my late 20s I did okay bringing the weight down, but when I moved to Alaska and grew too comfortable, the pounds started piling on again. By the time I moved to North Carolina I'd topped 180. When I tipped the scale at 210 this past Christmas, I was depending on rescue inhalers at least three times a day, if not more, just to get around my apartment and climb up and down the stairs to get to my car.
I decided to get serious. As a self-employed author I don't have medical insurance. Yet. And I'm definitely not into surgery (my weight isn't that out of range) so I went to a diet program offered by a reputable international corporation. If anyone wants to know, I'll tell them which program I'm on. I signed up on June 23, 2011. I weighed 204 pounds.
I visit my consultant once a week, buy my meals, and try to follow the plan as closely as possible. For me that can be difficult since I'm used to not eating. Not because I was starving myself, but because I would forget to eat and my body got used to it. Now, I set an alarm on my cell phone to remind me when to eat my meals and snacks. Eventually I know that I'll have myself trained to eat when I'm supposed to, but until then, the alarms work.
Currently I've lost six pounds in four weeks, better than I've ever done on my own. And I've decided that posting to my blog at least three times a week will keep me more accountable. And I'll also be sharing some of my recipes and home 'remedies' for stuff. Someone I shared information with about growing and hardening fingernails suggested I share the 'remedies' in my blog.
Please feel free to comment.