Digestively, though not weight-wise. I ate well, really, but I am over 40 and must be very close to homeostasis so I need to trim just a little more. I added some good cardio this week but need to do more. (Even though some weighttrainers seem to feel that cardio is a muscle-wasting fool's errand, I'm not buying it.) I suspect I should be at 1600 calories but I don't feel like doing it, so there. Do I sound defiant?

I was reading on Escape From Obesity her heartfelt post about the frustration and even grief she feels at waiting so long to get control of her body. I encounter this problem too. I am an ordinary reasonably good-looking woman-- millions like me-- but as I am sure my handsome and distinguished audience knows, an ordinary good looking girl in good shape can get a LOT of attention. Which is a mixed bag. When I put on 50 pounds with my son, I could go to the beach without being scrutinized. I always felt my body was flawed and did not really enjoy intensive attention sure to uncover said flaws. It was sort of nice to relax and not worry about it. If I could have waved a wand and shed the weight, I would have like a shot, but I enjoyed the side benefit. Buying clothes was a lot simpler too.

Now, of course, as I've started to shape up, I've started to draw eyes. Not neck-swiveling, following down the street eyes, which will never be my lot again, and that's okay really. But I'm pretty sure that people, men and women, on occasion, do check me out a bit. That or I'm making it up, but since I get to experience my own reality, who's to argue? Right? And I have to deal with some grief that I didn't do this at 28, or 35. I have this mental deadline of about 45 where you cross some kind of invisible line where only your properly-conditioned spouse finds you sexy (or at least he's too kind and also too fond of self-preservation to say otherwise). Since I'll be 43 in two months I better do some cognitive work on myself fast :)

What helps me is remembering that wanting to look pretty was not enough of a motivator. This is, after all, something of a pain in the ass. Wanting to soothe my inlaws (who are highly critical of the overweight, although my MIL has mellowed), definitely not. It's the number on the blasted glucometer. I don't want diabetes at 45. I want to beat it back valiantly for at least another ten years. It's not completely within my control-- I don't even have the classic, apple shaped diabetic body, I am a total pear-- but I am going to do my damndest not to have to be on daily meds, not to have watch my sugars in case they tank because I'm sick and I took my medicine, not to experience ulcers that won't heal and, God forbid, toes and feet and legs that have to be nipped away bit by bit. (The latter seems to happen more for the careless diabetic, but you know, I am not the most methodical person in the world.)

So that's my manifesto. I better come back here and read it when I'm flagging. Doing okay, really, as I get plenty of high-quality food. Just need to lose some more damn weight, sigh.


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