Cell Intelligence
According to my mother’s scale, I have lost maybe ½ to ¾ of a pound in a period of two weeks. This wondrous success is attributable to the book 10 Years Thinner: 6 Weeks to a Leaner, Younger-Looking You.
But then again, I tell myself, muscle weighs more than fat!
I got up this morning and sneaked off to exercise without my motivational music. The house was still filled with gentle snoring, but I could no longer stay prone. I will gently pound my body into shape using the miracle of lunges, squats, crunches and push-ups both forward and backward. My knees and ankles are not exactly happy, but they’re not screaming that loudly, and I do feel good having done them, and I am promised a leaner, younger-looking me if I do these things, so who am I to argue?
For the last 10 weeks I have given up sugar, grains – all of them, dairy, and everything else that has assisted me in building up my substantial bulk over the last five years. I am also taking vitamins, drinking a ton of water – well, not a ton – let’s not exaggerate – maybe 70-90 ounces a day, and of course, doing my exercise routine at least 4 times a week (and to be fair, I’ve only been doing those exercises for about 5 out of the 11-12 weeks).
So how come things aren’t moving more quickly? I’d be okay with the scale if the zippered opening of the pants from the past would close more easily telling me that my lean muscles are taking the place of my not so lean rolls of what I lovingly call my protective covering.
I’ve spoken to people who have wowed themselves with results from this book – but, oh yeah, they’re not 57 and 40 pounds over-weight. But I had hoped to experience more success than I have been, and frankly, I’m stymied. Why am I literally FIGHTING this battle of the bulge? I am doing everything I need to be doing, at least according to the book.
Part of me (oh those damned parts) feels like all I’ve been doing is taking a magic pill and sitting on the couch waiting for the miracle, but I haven’t; I’ve been doing the work. Or at least the outer work.
Frankly, I’m not so sure that we humans really have the weight thing figured out. It should be calories in – calories out = success or failure, but that doesn’t take into consideration our considerable inner world which has its own agenda – believe me I’ve been working with its agenda for years and you would be very surprised at what some of the inner intentions are. And those intentions are the ones that matter. Those are the ones that will sabotage and create the anti-miracle. So you think that doing X should produce Y, just ask the inner saboteur or the inner judge or the inner joker. They get their way; the laws of man are not restrictions to them. Just as they can assist in the creation of miracles – getting things to happen as they shouldn’t be able to according to the laws of man – they can seemingly work their opposite magic or I guess that would be anti-magic.
Every pound I created, I created with the help of anxiety, anger, frustration, unconsciousness, fear, judgment, hatred, self-flagellation, hiding, and I could go on. If that is true, then stored in those many new cells are all the things that built them. I built them with junk and the junk has to come out – but I don’t want to look at the junk, I just want to look at my size 12 pants and wish they would button (or the size 10s). So my next weeks will be spent in dialoging with the keepers of the pounds in order to figure out what it is they want from me now in order to let go and release their hold on my at-their-mercy-figure. I will report back with results in four weeks. Wish me luck.
All the luck in the world! Maybe "what I lovingly call my protective covering" really is a clue to the inner, mental reason for the body's hanging on. Or maybe the mystery of stomach hormones is at work (turns out that diabetics who undergo stomach-stapling or lap-band surgery often are no longer diabetic THAT WEEK, before they lose any weight at all. Stomach hormones are thought to play a part). There also seems to be a virus that enables its host to hyper-efficiently wring out calories from food that previously would have passed undigested through the gut. Okay, that's enough of that. Don't want my response to be longer than the post! :)
ReplyDeleteIn my humble opinion, we are really screwed up in this society with the body image thing. Not everyone is meant to be willowy, lithe, and a size 6. In fact, what most people don't know is that the average American woman is a size 14 and what's wrong with that. I think the inner person is a lot more important than the outer person and, Nancy, your inner person is beautiful. When I look at you, Nancy, I see a lovely person. You need to look in the mirror and see that person too. Still, I know it's frustrating when you really are going with the program and getting no results. Why not just quit thinking about it, eat healthy, exercise and don't worry about what the scale says.
ReplyDeleteI like Susan's comments better than mine!
ReplyDeleteI think the source of the problem can be found in your first sentence - you're using your mother's scale! I'm just certain all that deprivation and sweating would show results on a more forgiving scale, one more inclined to celebrate the fine shape of the inner you that's wrapped in the protective coating you so lovingly describe. Once you weigh on that better scale, you can treat yourself to a hot fudge sundae. I'll have one, too.
ReplyDeleteOh, Peep. You've got it!! That's the problem, absolutely. It's mom's scale and, Nancy, you know you can never please mom's scale. It's simply not going to give you a break. Wait for a different scale. But in the meantime, just eat healthy, quit counting calories, quit stepping on that damn scale every day, and have a hot fudge sundae at least once a week.
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ReplyDeleteWell, somehow I published my last post twice, so I just deleted one of them.
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