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I caught the tail end of some news magazine tv show a week or so ago.  You know the kind, something like 20/20 or Dateline.  It was talking about the magazine and internet ads for weight loss. You know the ones I mean, it shows a before and after picture and the ad says something like, Take Off 50 Lbs in 2 Weeks With This Amazing Weight Loss Secret.  It always has a before and after picture and a testimonial from Wendy or Joe or Bonny or whoever.  According to the tv show, one of the women featured in the ad HAD taken off weight, but had done it over a longer period of time by working out and reducing her food intake.  She made the mistake of posting her before & after pictures on the internet and the pictures were pirated to be used in the ad.  Apparently there were several other people who had the same thing happen to them.  One guy sold his picture and the company that bought it then used photo editing software to create the after pictures.

As skeptical as I am about these ads, I must admit that it didn’t occur to me that the pictures were stolen or photo shopped.  I guess if I had really thought about it, I would have figured that they had either just exagerated the story or there was some creative photography taking place.  So why did this story stick in my mind? Because anytime I see those ads, there is always a split second that I’m tempted.  Maybe it would work.  Maybe there is a magic something that would melt off 50 lbs in 2 weeks without exercise or diet.  Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause.

I will admit that I have been suckered into some of these pitches in the past.  I remember trying the grapefruit diet, there was one very silly one involving aroma therapy which was supposed to stop your appetite.  There was even one that involved getting needles every week and the scary thing is that I have no idea what was in the needle.  I know that there is only one way to take off weight – eat less, move more.  Too bad it took me so long to come to this realization.

 
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OK….big deep breath……I think I finally see the body changes.

I went into town today and tried on some wool trousers.  As usual I took a size I knew would fit and a size I thought might fit.  The little ones were almost too big.

I repeated the exercise in another shop with the same results.

At one point I muttered to myself, “You’re almost small.”

Doesn’t sound like much but it’s quite a big deal.

NOW…..here’s what usually happens when I get to this stage:  I don’t take the time to look carefully at my smaller self and get used to what I look like.  Instead, I get focused on the farcical idea that “the diet is over” and I start eating anything I want.  Before I look in the mirror again, the moment is over. And six months down the line, I’m back to where I started.

So this time, it’s all going to happen SLOWWWWWWWLY.

I’m going to keep trying things on and remarking that I am almost small.

I am going to keep journalling what I’m eating.

I’m going to keep noticing until, well, I’m not sure until what.  I’ll let you know when I get there.

 
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When I weighed 125 pounds and was running 8 miles at a time, I wore a size 10 and once, for about a week, I squeezed into a size 8.

Today, with 145 pounds of middle aged “shapeliness”,  my size 6 jeans are getting a baggy.

It’s wrong!  Nothing more than a cynical marketing ploy to keep the baby boomers spending money.

And I rarely miss the opportunity to rant about it.

However………

after reading a couple of articles, I have to confess that, just maybe, the only “wrong” is that women choose to believe that a size 10 today is the same as it was twenty-five years ago. If we are the intended dupes of this marketing strategy, then we’d better get smart and let them know that we’ve caught on.

The truth is that our old size 12-14 bodies are now size 6 or 8 and I need just to get over the new number and not be distracted by how small it seems.  If I need to be a Gap size 4 to have a healthy waist size, then I need to be a size 4.  And I also have to accept that, if I wear a size 10 today, it’s the same as the size 16 of my youth.  There’s no way around it.

Of course, in better quality stores, I wear a bigger size – which arouses my cynicism again.  What’s the motivation behind: “the cheaper the store, the more generous the sizing”?

I guess the bottom line is that we can’t rely on clothing sizes to let us know if we’re losing or gaining weight and we can’t actually say with confidence, “I’m a size____” without qualifying what that means.  All we can do is find clothes that fit us and flatter us and cut out the labels.  I will not be duped.

 
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I don’t want to sound fanatical, but where the heck do you measure your waist?

People who make clothes say it’s the narrowest part.

Dr Oz the You On A Diet guy says at the navel.

Other’s say just above the navel.

Well……those three places range from 33 to 36 inches – almost healthy to quite risky.

Any thoughts?

 
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So what’s the verdict of the 3-way mirror?  In a word:  lumpy.

At least lumpier than I have been at this weight.

But I bought a dress and have decided to be less lumpy by Christmas though I can’t yet find it in me to make a major gym commitment.

It’s partly my fear of euphoria – whether diet-induced or exercise-induced – but that’s another post.

It’s also partly that, as soon as I start getting results at the gym, it’s time to pack my bags and head to Canada where I have no gym membership.  I need some help and a plan.  Maybe it’s time to hire a professional to help me design a routine that I can do no matter where I’m living, with a gym or without one.   Maybe that’s what I’ll ask for for Christmas.  (Lightbulb moment, perhaps!)

 
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I’ve got today free so I’m off to Manchester to try on clothes.  I don’t care if I buy anything but I need to spend some time in front of three-way mirrors to get to grips with what I look like at the moment.

Wish me luck.

 
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I’ve said more that once that I’m inventing the 21st Century Diet.  That is, if I can just maintain my moderately overweight body, I will eventually be overtaken by almost everyone else and finally be “thin”.  Looks like it could really happen.

According to this report, many obese people don’t recognise how overweight they really are.  One of the reasons is that, as society gets fatter, people compare themselves with those around them and don’t feel so fat any more.

In my view there is a very clear tendency for individuals with obesity to feel that they do not stand out from the crowd,” says Jonathan Pinkney, a consultant in endocrinology and diabetes from the Association for the Study of Obesity (ASO).

This is because the median BMI has increased so much. For example, if some 4% of women now have a BMI of more than 40, then arguably you need this sort of BMI to begin to look obviously obese when you walk down the street.

I guess it’s the same but opposite phenomenon as healthy sized celebrity-obsessed people who are convinced they are fat by comparison.

 
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I probably could have said that yesterday was a “catch” but I didn’t move except to walk from the car to the grocery store.  I did park at the furthest space from the doors but I didn’t quite manage to work up a sweat by the time I got to potatoes.  Which I suppose I should count as a bonus.

As for food, it was easy because I’d cooked the night before.  (Every once in a little wee while I manage to get organised.)  It was hard because I wanted more.  Not more of a particular anything – just more.  It’s that time of night when the Man is out of town and I know I can eat whatever I want and no one will ever know.  Except me.  And you if I choose to be honest.

But here’s the big new:  I got out the tape measure.

My weight is pretty steady these days and I think in terms of a handful of pounds to my goal.  But I feel “squidgy” from lack of exercise and wanted to know why.

After almost 3 months away from the gym and depending only on walking and a bit of running, the change is as follows:

  • Bust: was 38 – now 39.5
  • Waist: was 32.4 – now 34
  • Hips: was 39 – still 39

The Inverted Triangle Returns!

So it’s back to the gym three times per week. That’s all it takes to change the shape of my upper body and it’s worth it.  (Cue fantasy of my own Concept2 rower- not outrageous but would need a new house to accommodate.)

The miraculous element of all of this is that I don’t feel like a failure, or like eating ice-cream, or like crying into my morning coffee as I write (all things I may have done in my food-insanity past).  Instead, I just feel like going to the gym.  Which is where I’m headed now.  Interesting.

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