|Me (apparently), only younger and less crabby.|
But I'm trying.
In January Devin and I decided to be better about our diets and drop a few pounds. New Year's resolutions and I don't work well together, but motivating each other could be promising. I don't remember all the details, but we cut down portion sizes, ate a good breakfast, basically eliminated alcohol and didn't eat/drink anything but water after 7:30 p.m. And then we would weigh in weekly.
After struggling with an ulcer my last year of college and beyond, adding on a few pounds from constantly working (and eating while working) the last few years instead of working out and getting a little too friendly with the food over the holidays, I thought this plan would do me and my stomach some good, so we did it. The first few weeks weren't terrible. We planned to celebrate our success of sticking with it for that long with great food and beer in Des Moines with Dan and Karen. And celebrate we did.
We stayed with this lifestyle for a few months, and it was great. I was doing Zumba two nights a week with my friend Julie, and on other nights I tried to ride my cruiser (don't laugh) on Devin's trainer while I watched my DVRed HGTV shows. It worked well. I actually lost some numbers.
I first really noticed when we went to Omaha for Valentine's Day. Before our reservation, we walked around Village Pointe for a while. I wore a pair of black dress pants that I bought at the end of high school or early in college (yeah, they're a little old, but they accommodate my long legs). Devin noticed before I did because I kept tugging them back up (subconsciously, maybe?) only to feel them slip right back to where they were. Long story short, I had lost weight and inches, and people apparently can't buy belts - for pants - at Village Pointe. *Grr*
(I'm reminded of this today because I grabbed those same pants out of the closet this morning without even thinking, and they're a bit baggy, just hanging on my hips. Did I notice before I got to work? No. Did I wear a belt? Pffsh! Who does that?)
So I needed new pants. And a job, since we were moving to Omaha at that point. In April I had two interviews, and thankfully my suit still fit well enough. I went shopping after the last (and eventually successful) interview in search of new dress pants. I didn't have much money or much hope for finding anything long enough in the store, but at least I would have the brand and the ability to order a tall pair online.
I went to Gap, based on a friend's suggestion and was pleasantly surprised to see talls and extra talls. I didn't get my hopes up though because "tall" often only goes to a 34-inch inseam, 35 occasionally. I need at least a 36. So, I grabbed "my size" and headed off to the dressing room. Way. Too. Big. Say what?
I went back for the next size down. Better, but still too loose. You're kidding me. The next size down, I feared, would be too small, as I've always been in between sizes. I tried it anyway, and my jaw dropped. They were perfect (actually called Perfect Trouser), and I was ecstatic. I took a picture of the size tag and immediately sent it to Devin. Two pant sizes? I never remembered being in single-digit sizes, probably because all I had were men's jeans and aunts' hand-me-downs growing up (I was a farm girl. We never went anywhere fancy). I had actually surpassed my goal of returning to my high school weight, losing more than 10 lbs. in just a few months. It was an amazing feeling, and those pants looked good, making it worth the $60 I spent on them.
Yesterday was Devin's first day at work. After I got home, I had a little less than a half hour before he would get back, so I somehow talked myself into going to the workout room (since I've been slacking on the being-healthy thing) and using the elliptical machine for about 20 minutes until I saw him drive up. No one else was there, so I decided to find something to entertain me on TV since ours is still in the closet.
I wanted to watch Food Network, but Paula Deen was cooking, and I can neither stand her accent nor the ungodly amounts of butter she uses in her meals. Next. Then I found my beloved HGTV. Oh, how I miss Color Splash, Property Virgins, House Hunters, Dear Genevieve, Sarah's House, etc. It must have motivated me. I made it the full 20 minutes, averaging over 7 mph for 2.5 miles - way better than anything I could have done while trying to "run" outside or on the treadmill. Trust me, an accomplishment.
That's probably a pretty lame amount to time to those of you doing marathons and riding your bikes (not cruisers) up massive hills for hours, but it's manageable enough for me right now. I'm actually considering going again today, hoping to beat other exercisers since there's only one elliptical machine.
And I want my date with HGTV. Bang For Your Buck starts at 4:30!
Here's to putting in a little effort in the "me" category, wearing smaller sizes and rocking my first strapless dress that I ever tried on and had the guts to buy. *Cheers!*