Uncomfortable

This past January my friend Di and I had plans for a lunch.

Winter in New England can be very cold. So everyone has to bundle up.

Kind of weird because it seems like the entire Northeast female population is wearing the same fluffy black coat. The ones that can make a person sort of look like a sausage about to burst out of its waxy looking casing.

Both of us have gained weight. Both of us are little women. Like five feet tall.

We hop into my car, try to get situated so we can belt ourselves in and be on our merry way.

Well, there we were. Twisting, turning and almost grunting trying to get comfortable. Picture, if you will, worm larvae. The puffy jackets don’t help.

We came to this stunning conclusion.

Having extra pounds is just downright uncomfortable.

That is really what it comes down to, isn’t it?

I am uncomfortable.

Not body shaming myself or anyone else. I don’t think we should all look like anorexic models. I don’t want to go on crazy diets. Just want to be at the normal, healthy weight I’m supposed to be.

I’m not comfortable in my clothes because they no longer fit properly. I have clothes I cannot wear. I’m not comfortable passing a mirror (clad or not), catching a glimpse and gasping out loud, “Good God!” I’m not comfortable looking at photographs that show the obvious gain.

A lot of people who are overweight are uncomfortable.

In bathing suits. Shopping for clothes. Always leaning toward the stretchy pants. Self conscious.

I recently saw a posting on a page for a reunion at my high school.

A woman said she ran into another gal (did not name her) and asked if she was going to attend the reunion.

The reply was, “No, not looking like this.”

The woman had gained a lot of weight since high school. So she was going to miss this fabulous opportunity to meet with old friends.

Because she was uncomfortable with herself.

I felt really bad when I read that. I think she absolutely should have gone to the reunion. No one cares about her weight gain.

But I understood how she felt.

I weigh more than I ever have in my life. Except for pregnancies.

Never really bounced up and down with weight but in later years I always picked up a few extra pounds on summer home visits. Usually I dropped those within the first two weeks of my return. Getting busy and back to a routine. Shed the suckers without blinking an eye.

This past summer was no different. There was the usual flurry of activity that happens. Graduation party, birthday parties and nights out at restaurants. Eating all of my favorite foods. The veal parms and the fried clams. Steamers dripping with butter and Casserta’s Pizza. Four road trips with food on the fly.

So I picked up the usual few pounds.

When we returned back home, after seeing the kid off to university, I figured I would drop the additional weight.

It didn’t happen this time.

I returned to a different house and country with no set or usual routine. I had an empty nest. Husband working all day. I didn’t know anyone.

Days and weeks passed. I didn’t lose a pound.

Then on November 6th I quit smoking.

Went home for the Christmas holidays. I don’t know a soul who actually loses weight during that time. I was no exception.

So, what to do?

I figure if I can quit smoking I can do anything.

Have to give a shout out to my brother. He inspired me in a few different ways over the holidays.

So when I arrived back home from the airport on February 7th I hopped on the scale. Hopped right off and documented that number which was at an all time high. It’s probably not even the real number. I call it the air travel weight. Lots of bread and junk.

But I documented it just the same.

I used the Fitbit app on my phone. Like I used an app for smoking cessation.

It’s me that is going to do the hard work but I like to see graphs, progress and encouraging messages.

It comes down to this. It’s all about what I eat. And how much.

I do walk at least an hour a day. But that is because I want to be outside and doing something.

My point is that even if I never left the house or lifted a finger I should be able to lose weight. By being aware of every morsel that I eat.

It can be frustrating. Sometimes it seems there is no rhyme or reason to a gain, loss or plateau during the process.

But today when I stepped on the scale it was a solid ten pound (and a few ounces) loss. Finally the scales have tipped in my favor. I have fifteen more to lose.

Some of you reading this might also be feeling a bit uncomfortable.

You can find comfort.

And you can start today.

Hop on the scale. Write down that number. Get a Fitbit. Set a goal. Challenge a friend. Track your progress. Reward yourself. Document everything that goes into your mouth.

You will absolutely get results.

That’s all there is to it.

You can do this.

Be comfortable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Snow

I am at my mom’s house in New England. Got a bit of snow this morning. Didn’t last too long and there was not much accumulation.

But it still needed shovelling. Like it always does around these parts.

So I strapped on dem duck boots, gloves and cleared the cars. Then I did the driveway, sidewalk and stairs. I did the neighbor’s sidewalk and then went to the other elderly neighbor’s house and did her driveway, sidewalk and stairs.

By the time I was finished I had more than seven thousand steps on the old Fitbit!

Cleaning the snow around the cars reminded me of a sad story I read last year.

A father in the Northeast was shovelling the family car out of the driveway while his wife and two little children, escaping the bitter cold, waited inside the running automobile.

They soon died of carbon monoxide poisoning while he was just outside shovelling.

The tailpipe was clogged with the snow and it forced the carbon monoxide into the car.

What a terrible, terrible tragedy. The father was paralyzed with the shock of it. Who wouldn’t be?

Stay safe this winter.  If you are living in a snowy region remember to check that the exhaust pipe is clear. Also to keep furnace vents in the home clear of snow.

 

 

 

 

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Walk In The Park

Each day I take a walk by myself here in Delhi. Mostly at a local park named Lodi.

I try and give the Fitbit some action. But I also sit and do a lot of watching. There is always something going on here. More than twenty types of birds. Hawks swooping down with their unique scream agitating the crows. It’s a cacophony that the forty young deaf people doing some type of team bonding in the middle of the field cannot hear. Soccer/football playing. Family photo sessions. Picnics. People working out on exercise equipment. Contortionists in the yoga section.

Starting to see some of the same people each day. An old fellow with what appears to be a radio in his hand. A guy walking a Bull Terrier just like Spuds Mackenzie-except black. Too many young lovers to count. Not sure if they are same ones each day. An elderly man who is undergoing chemotherapy walking with a cane and a young assistant. He wears a tweed jacket that is too big for him and a black Greek fisherman’s woolen cap. A guy playing the flute on a bench in the middle of the park.

India really is incredible. You never know what to expect. Every day is different.

See below for some of my park photos. I hope you enjoy them.

I am all for this.

Wait a second! The back of these signs. I’m getting mixed messages here.

Bird house in the middle of the park? Check out the two photo bombers.

Hundreds of these birds in the park. Never gets old.

Caught my eye. Sacred Fig. Considered a sacred tree for Hindu folks.

Very cool. Section of park that has exercise equipment for those in wheelchairs.

Not the best quality photo. Color coordinated Sikh family photo shoot.

Loved these carvings.

Hijra (transgendered folks) looking for monetary donations from people in the park.

Not sure what the colored smoke symbolised.

Lily pads.

Stepping stones.

I call this one Narcissus.

Sweet potato man. As in the potato is sweet. I am not sure about the man.

Hawks on the ground, in flight and resting in the trees.

Vendor with a lot on his mind.

Palm trees.

Spud Makenzie’s Indian cousin.

I happened upon this crew. A parakeet chowing down with three squirrels.

M for Mary.

A dog just curled up and napping away.

Seriously how does one do that?

I liked this sign. They certainly spelled it out for visitors.

The end. I slip under the chain to exit at Gate 11. Not where I entered. 🙂

 

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

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