Monday, May 24, 2010

Goals


I just learned an interesting lesson in life—if you can’t attain one of your life goals, then perhaps you need to adjust the goal. Ha! Easy—I just did it. I’ve been going to Weight Watchers off and on forever. I realize that it doesn’t work if you don’t follow the program. I really hate that about Weight Watchers—why can’t you just pay the fee and lose the weight? But I’m so frustrated with not being at my goal weight that today I did something about it, something I didn’t even know was possible until last week. I changed my goal weight. So even though I didn’t lose a single ounce in the past few weeks, I did get closer to my goal weight by moving my goal weight up 7 pounds. Wow, that feels good! They should have given me a star and applauded my success. Actually I told the WW receptionist that I wanted to add 10 pounds to my goal weight but I think she misheard me because she only adjusted it by 7 pounds. Doggonit—I don’t have the nerve to go back and ask her to add another 3 pounds so I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.

This whole thing about aging and weight is so damned frustrating. It’s not bad enough that you get old, joints hurt, skin sags, and you find yourself turning into your own grandmother. Insult added to injury, the metabolism slows down and you can’t eat anything but a couple of grapes wrapped in lettuce, perhaps some green tea and a shrimp. That’s probably 30 points on the Weight Watchers system. I hate counting. But the horrifying thing about weight in post-menopausal women is the new weight distribution routine. Younger women gain weight in their hips and thighs. They just get curvier, even if they’re a little bottom heavy. Older women blow up in the middle, gaining unsightly abdominal bulges and becoming more like potatoes on toothpicks. I have been known to say that I felt like a fat weasel burrowed under my skin and took up residence on my abdomen. I would like to think of it as a playful, rather charming otter instead of a squirmy, obnoxious weasel. It’s a weasel.

Smokers claim they are afraid to quit smoking because they don’t want to gain weight. They may have something there. Of course there are Surgeon General's warnings on packs of cigarettes, but shouldn't there be warnings on bags of potato chips as well? I think I’ll start smoking. How bad can it be?

2 comments:

  1. Haha...this post made me laugh out loud....for real. If it makes you feel any better, not every younger girl gains weight so as to become curvier-- I would love curves but I have a total apple body type. And high cortisol, apparently. Helloooo, abdominal weasel!

    Found your blog via Foodie Blogroll, by the way. Haven't read anything but this post, yet it was enough to catch my attention!!

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  2. Thanks for reading it, Ms. Limelicous. I appreciate the attention.

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