Exactly a month ago, I started back to the gym (Curves); not because I expect to get back to “Cute and Adorable” again, but I finally realize that doing this can only improve my respiratory system and get me back in to pretty good shape. I felt that this is something I need to do, and I just accept this as part of my life and responsibility now; part of my efforts to keep fit for my kids. We all know that as long as we keep healthy, fit and active, then we have a much better chance of keeping our mental facilities for a longer period of time, and therefore avoiding that which we Babyboomers fear most; getting put in a nursing home or, even worse, just ending up a burden to the people we love.
Today, when I went in to do my daily 30 to 45 minutes of rigorous exercise, I was stopped by a woman with a measuring tape! “Halt! It’s your turn! It’s been exactly a month since you’ve been coming here, and it’s time to see what you’ve done!”
What have I done?
I didn’t realize they took it so seriously! Was I late? Did I miss a day or two? Oh, nooooo! She came at me with a tape measure, and measured my bust. Actually, that wasn’t so bad. After I had turned 55, it (my bust) had actually started to grow, and I was very upset over this. It had started to get in my way. I really didn’t like it at all, remembering after my two girls were born and how I actually knocked over poker chips and drinks with my newly acquired buxom boobs. At that point, I fretted and envisioned suddenly turning sideways and giving a short person a concussion. How embarrassing! I had never had them before, and didn’t want them….well not “bigguns” (Al Bundy speak). At any rate, the lady with the tape measure whipped the tape around my bust! Wow! What a relief! I had lost two inches! Even better, that probably means I’ve lost some of my recently acquired (within the past 6 years) back fat.
Next, she measured my waist. That was a disappointment, as I had not even lost a centimeter there. How discouraging! More HULA HOOP! By the way, there is actually a hula hoop at Curves that weighs about 4 lb., and the inside is scalloped. When you get it going, it actually pummels your waist line.
After that, she measured my upper arms, abdomen, hips and thighs. I had lost a total of 8 inches. It didn’t mean much to me because I had not noticed it before. However, what I did notice when I finally got on the scale, was that I had lost 2 lb. That, once again, was a little disappointing. After all, I’d been at this for a month now. You would think there should have been a greater weight loss.
Then the aggressive woman with the tape measure said: “Congratulations! You’ve made some really great progress. You may have lost only 2 lb., but you’ve lost 8” inches overall. This means you are increasing your muscle mass, and losing fat mass”. No one had ever told me that I had “fat mass”. That seemed to make everything a little better, but I had a moment of hitting basement when I realized that there was much more to go. “I know where the rest of you fat masses are hiding!” And by the way, it is NOT doing such a great job of hiding.
After giving it a bit more thought, I decided that it must be that nightly ice cream with The Royster. Well, that’s just one of the factors though. Seemingly, everything started changing at once about 6 years ago. There was the fact that I had to quit smoking, hormonal changes, chemo and radiation and age all collided at once. Oh, and add the fact that I had always been used to “eating like a man”, without gaining an ounce or an inch anywhere. Put that together with the fact that I live with a diet saboteur. Yes, and come to think of it, I’d probably lose weight and inches faster if I’d leave off the late night ice cream with The Royster. I sincerely hope The Royster won’t get his feelings hurt if I don’t join him in serving bowls of ice cream late at night. Serve yourself, Honey. I’ll try not to watch.
Alright! I’m encouraged. I’ve actually seen some progress, and just when I was starting to get discouraged. Over the past week, I had started thinking up excuses not to go to the gym. That’s a familiar pattern. I’m getting to know the other ladies, and I appreciate every one of them. Possibly I could get to know one of them well enough to call me every morning g to tell me to “Move AWAY from the computer and get your butt down here to the gym!” Guess I’m just lacking a little discipline, and could use a drill sergeant pal to encourage me.
Now that I am aware of “fat mass”, and where it’s all hiding, then I do feel inclined to continue going to the gym. I actually feel that I can drop off the ice cream habit. I’ll be starving the “fat mass”. “Put that cinnamon bun down and step AWAY from the computer and get your ass to the gym!” So…………..Call me!
