A very weighty post.

If you heard a scream on Monday morning and could't work out what it was , no need to worry. It was me. Reading the number on the scales. The rather large number on the scales.

You see I have always had a rather unhealthy relationship with my weight, since I was about 10 when I went to the Doctor and he told me I was fat. Huh? Until then my weight had never even occurred to me. From that day on the issue of my weight has never stopped occurring to me. For the record I wasn't fat either, I was a teeny tiny bit chubby, but I was an early developer. I was the kid that stopped growing in Year 7.

My life every since then has been a constant battle with my weight. You see I am a believer that your body does have a natural "set point" That is the weight you are meant to be. Unfortunately though my body and I disagree on what the "set point" is, like by about 10 kilos. 

I watched a TED talk that was recommended to me by a friend, and the women presenter was talking about her own weight struggle, and she said she had her light bulb moment, when she quit dieting and just ate what she wanted to. The key, apparently, is to "listen to what you body is telling you." Sounded like an awesome plan. So I did. I ate what I wanted to (still exercised like a champion) and listen to my body. It told me " I want to be fat". Well that didn't exactly go to plan.

I also gave up on the scales about 12 months ago.

Yeah I know- but this number directly effects my clothes number and I really like my clothes and I could never afford to replace them.

 My mood was very reliant on the number that appeared on the scales. If I didn't like the number, I would do the scales dance- you know the one that must be done first thing in the morning, before you have had anything to eat or drink, after you have been to the toilet with no clothes on- not even a hair elastic to weigh you down. If you don't like the result you lean on the towel rail, or move the scale to that point in the floor (or on that mat) where the number will magically decline. The last resort of course is to get off the scale and reset to point to a fraction below zero.

Did I also mention that I exercise. A lot. Like 6 days a week. I run - on a bad week 50km. So here is the facts that I forgot. EXERCISE DOES NOT MAKE YOU LOSE WEIGHT. It will help you maintain a weight ( I said HELP), It will assist you in losing it WHEN YOU STOP SHOVING AS MUCH FOOD AS YOU WANT DOWN YOU GOB- that is, are on a diet.  Although surely there must be a special place in the world for someone who runs 2 marathons and a ultra marathon in a year, and manages to put on 8kgs.

I was living in the great world of denial where my clothes were getting tighter. I was telling myself that my jeans were shrinking in the dryer (until I found a dirty tissue in the pocket- they didn't shrink, I expanded). Actually I think I thought all my clothes were shrinking, and damn those shops for making their sizes smaller.

My turning point was when I put on my "big pants". They are from Zara and  I have one pair in a 6  and one in and 8. So anyway, I put them on, they were snug. I checked the size it said "8". I thought " Oh Good, I'm fitting into my skinny pair, all that running must be paying off." Then half was through the day I remembered they were American Sizes. My 8's were really 12's. They were my big pair. Whoops.

This was a few days before my mini vacation- so I decided to deal with it when I got home. So Monday was the day. I stepped on the scales. The NEW SCALES. The result was horrendous. They were digital. I couldn't adjust them, I couldn't lean on the towel rail, there was NOTHING I could do to make that bloody number go down. So I did the next best thing. I woke up my husband and shouted at him.
"Why didn't you tell me I was getting fat?"
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell me I was getting fat? The scales say I have put on 10 kgs."
"Is that why you woke me up?"
"It's an emergency."
"The scales weigh heavier than the old ones."
I breathed a little sigh of relief. Still in denial I was thinking (hoping) he would say 8kg heavy.
"Like how much?"
"2kgs"
"I'm fat and I'm going for a run."
No answer.
"I said I"M FAT AND GOING FOR A RUN."
Still no answer.
"I SAID I'M FAT AND GOING FOR A RUN"
"I'm ignoring you because you are carrying on and being pathetic" You can see know why our relationship works.

I got home from my run, faced reality, joined Weight Watchers. I told my mum. She said "Well you do eat and drink a lot."
I said "Really? Well I do exercise."
and she says " Well your father and I were talking about how much your family eats. You would be rich if you all stopped eating so much."
"Well... I like eating. And Drinking. It's not my fault I inherited the German fat genes and have no metabolism." (I didn't actually say the part about the fat gene, or the metabolism, because I may have realised at thats stage that mum may have had a point .)

I was talking about metabolism at work today with two work mates. One of us was eating fruit, one of us was eating a low carb protein bar, the other a sausage roll with a muffin stuffed with a friggin chocolate chaser.  Guess which one wants to remain anonymous.  We came to the conclusion that after you have kids your metabolism slows and after you hit 40 (I was the only one that could comment on that) it dies. DIES, DIES, DIES.

So reality has finally hit home. Protein only, low carb, high carb, shakes,low fat, full fat, 5:2. It's all crap. If you want to control to your weight there is no magic. You just have make sure you don't eat more than you use. So if I want to stay (or get back to) a size 10 I will be watching my weight for the next 21 years. Because I have decided the day I hit 65 I am getting fat. I am going to start wearing kaftans, eat a pie every day for breakfast, have one of those amazingly yummy almond custard scrolls from bakers delight every day, drink coke, and if I have to drive around in a gopher beeping at all the kids to get out of my way I damn well will. 

I was trying to find a funny photo of an old overweight lady in a gopher, but I found this instead.

My disclaimer is I know I am not really fat or overweight but for me I am not happy with my size when I am bigger. I can't fit into my clothes, and my bottom half becomes two sizes bigger than my top half. It's all about being happy and healthy.


An Update -- Well there has been a very interesting update to the great weight gain of 2014. So remember how I told you that the scales were new and weighed heavy?? Well tonight my husband gets home from the Doctors and tells me that yes the scales are out- BY AT LEAST FOUR, I repeat FOUR KILOS. So it would seem the great weight gain was only a moderate weight gain. I may have somewhat over reacted (so unlike me). On the plus side my week and a bit or being a Weight Watcher has resulted in a 3.5kg weight loss. Meaning I only need to lose .5kg.
Cake anyone????