Contrary to what modern media would have you believe, it is important for men to have an attractive spouse. Not just attractive to them, but to other men, as well. It’s a matter of pride; a source of superiority.
My face has always been cute. Even at my heaviest, I was still pretty. However, from the chin down, I was gross. And that’s MY opinion, not my husband’s. He never said anything even remotely like that. About 6 months ago, I decided it was time to do something about it. I had been diagnosed diabetic and hypertensive. I convinced my doctor to let me try to remedy this with diet and exercise. I started on a plan of cutting my calories and lifting weights. I managed to get myself out of the danger zone with the diabetes and high blood pressure. However, my weight loss came to a screeching halt. I hired a “coach” to plan my meals and my workouts so that I could optimize results. All was well for the first few weeks, but again, I came to a screeching halt. That is what leads me to today’s post.
After Monday’s weigh in, I was still at the same weight I had been for the last couple weeks. I’ll tell you what… that is incredibly frustrating when I am eating chicken and vegetables out the wazoo. Frankly, I am waiting to sprout feathers from all this chicken. I hate chicken, by the way, but it’s a means to an end, so I endure. I lift weights 5 days per week, and do 20 minutes of low intensity cardio, 3 days per week. And I don’t just lift the cute little pink neoprene covered weights. I lift the big boy weights, with as much poundage as my body can possibly move. I love it! I love the feeling of physical strength, but more importantly, I love the emotional and mental strength it gives me. I feel like I can take on the world and nobody can stop me.
So anyway, after my weigh in, I was so frustrated and so disappointed, I thought “I should just give up. My body just doesn’t want to get rid of the fat. It hates me”. Well, my body doesn’t hate me, but for whatever reason, it is determined to hold on to every molecule of fat it has accumulated over the last 21 years. I guess you could consider my body a hoarder. It refuses to get rid of any of the clutter. So what did I do to punish my body for this act of rebellion? I ate like a pig for 2 days. For 2 days, I ate “bad” carbs, dessert foods, and all the off plan things I could get my hands on. Not one piece of chicken. But as I sat there last night, wallowing in self pity and disgust, something occurred to me. I just gave my traitorous body exactly what it wanted. I succumbed to terrorism. What the heck!!! I am a proud American. I should NOT cave to terrorist demands!! That also means, I reverted back to comfortable behavior. Familiar territory. The “Quit Zone”.
God gave me this body. We only get one and we have to ride it all the way to the end of our life. If I want to have more time on this planet to do what God has called me to do, I need to take care of this vessel. If I want to be able to enjoy playing with my grandkids, I need to be able to move around. If I want to fulfill my husband’s need for an attractive spouse, I need to get rid of this fat. And really, I am a purveyor of false advertising to my husband. When we dated and when he married me, I was MUCH smaller. I was tall and thin. Now, I am tall and fat and my body looks like a busted can of biscuits. This is not what he signed up for. Well, I am recommitted to changing that. So just sit back and watch as I work my magic and eat the stinking chicken.