Last fall I told myself that I was going to “up” the level of my fitness commitment so that I’d be my best ever by my 50th birthday, then my back went out in early November and again in December so my workouts became almost non-exist for a month. During that time I also decided to relax my attention to eating well and, as a result, I gained ten pounds. On January 1st, I told myself and my blog readers that I was back on track and that the ten pounds would quickly melt away. Well, that hasn’t quite happened. A string of illness in our family during the first three months of the year followed by our wonderful European vacation and then stress over the adoption conference, taxes, regular family stuff, etc. has resulted in my weight being at an all-time non-pregnancy related high. So, as in the past, I will start again with a new fitness commitment.
It’s tough starting over, though. I am excited and hopeful, but I feel that I’ve been beaten up so many times in this weight loss battle. The difference now is that the few pounds feel like so much more. I’m gaining weight differently as I approach 50. What used to be just a little pudgy in my tummy is now flab around my entire middle! I mentioned this at my Pokeno group last week and the exclamations of agreement around the table were startling. It seems that as we begin this aging process, our bodies respond in new, different and, sometimes, unwelcome ways. There’s a lot that’s great about this time of life: the serenity, the questions of what can be next, the blossoming wisdom; but there are also aspects, like weight gain and distribution, that simply suck!
However, I’m going to hold on to the hopeful thoughts. After all, this could be the time when I lick weight issues for good. It took several attempts to quit smoking before it stuck almost thirty years ago. I’ve had more than several tries at weight loss, but I guess it’s at least good to keep trying. I’ve kept major obesity at bay, I enjoy exercising and it’s better to be the Restart Queen than the Give-Up Grump.