A couple of weeks ago, I posted that I had dropped 37 pounds. Shortly thereafter, I caught something nasty that kept me away from the gym for about two weeks. On top of that, though we continue to eat pretty low-fat meals, we’ve strayed away from the strict measurement of our fat intake. We’re making meals that seem low-fat, but I don’t have a book telling me that I’m getting X grams of fat a day. Moreover, I feel as if I’ve been snacking a lot more, though I do keep my snacks more or less healthy (I’ve rediscovered sherbet, for example, which is fat free and yummy; I’ve also rediscovered pretzels, which I never used to like very much because they struck me as being sort of bland). And I’ve been drinking a lot more calories in orange juice (downing about a gallon a day for a week or so). I also had begun to feel as if I was starting to get a little chubbier than I had gotten. So when I returned to the gym at last yesterday, I fully expected to have put 5 or 10 pounds back on.
As it turns out, I was down a few more pounds. I’ve punched through the 200 mark, weighing in at 199 yesterday and 198 today. I’m still no featherweight, but this is the first time I’ve been under 200 pounds since probably college, so it’s a definite milestone. It also makes getting back to my college weight seem entirely plausible. I’ve lost 42 pounds and have 13 to go. Can you imagine losing 55 pounds? That’s an average sized child. It’s a third of a slightly below average (I’d guess) adult woman. I’m not bragging here. I’m stupefied at the thought that I had let myself get to the point at which, after losing the weight of an average 7ish-year-old, I’m still technically overweight and still have enough fat around my gut to get a good double handful.
One thing I’ve noticed lately is that as I’ve found myself getting closer to being trim, my body image has changed for the worse. 42 pounds ago, I thought I seemed a little chubby. Now as I walk by the row of mirrors on the way to the shower in the locker room, I see a little jiggle around my waistline, and I see the little sag of what’s left of my gut, and it looks somehow worse. It’s as if where before, I was so far from being trim that I seemed pleasantly filled out, I’m now close enough to being thin that every little bulge stands out. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy with where I am, and it’s not as if I’m going to stop eating or start yakking after I eat. It’s just interesting to see how my perception of myself has changed over the last couple of months.