It has to be one of the most uncomfortable feelings in recent memory for me, as I sat there suffering in silence thinking of the regrettable choice that I made in attire. Though not a problem on previous trips, it most certainly was one now. I loathe a warmup or shorts on flights, I’m old school. I’m just now really traveling in jeans or khakis having given up the old school notion of “dress to impress” for a flight, but right now these jeans ain’t hittin.
I wore the jeans sans belt because I don’t have that TSA pre-check (#$;#$$) meaning I have to pass through regular security and place my whole life in those bins. Wearing a belt was not a priority. However, the lycra in these bad boys have reached their outer limit. What formerly was comfy and roomy has become the binding for my shame. I made it just fine to the airport and to the gate but when I strapped into my teeny economy seat the unthinkable happened and thank God no one could see.
I felt air hit, I pulled my shirt down and pulled my hoodie down in the back, lest I reveal to no one and nothing but the seat I was sitting in my issue, my shame,
my plumber’s crack.
I don’t know that the belt could cover the sins of my diet the last 18 months or so. My a@$ is fat to the tune of +45 lbs in the brief aforementioned timespan. So I sat and suffered in silence while plotting how I would leave my seat and reach for my bag in the overhead without revealing my whole a@$.
Not that cut but it certainly was an exciting weekend of golf at the Masters, with Tiger playing into Sunday young Jordan Spieth busting all these records on his way to victory. I actually enjoyed watching this tournament, while doing a little busting of my own:
OUT OF MY CLOTHES!!!!
and not like the Hulk but more like this. You see in the space of one year and the onset of the big P, a sista has put on 8-10 pounds depending on what day it is. I am distraught, dismayed and sometimes disgusted but not too disgusted because I had a big hunk of CAKE just yesterday. Hence, the cut from my closet clothing that this new body can no longer fit.
Since it’s warming up here I was redoing the closet, moving the the winter stuff over and the summer stuff up front. I thought it might be a good idea that I should try on a few things that I had in that fit well last year but perhaps would be questionable this year and they were more than questionable. I think I can no sit a plate of food on my butt and and maybe a salt shaker on my stomach. Pulling thos dresses out had me all up in my FEELINGS. Even though I now that weight gain and a whole bunch of other stuff can and in my case is happening during this time, the medical reasons weren’t enough to help me feel better. What did help me feel better? Shaking it off the next day and putting in some treadmill work. It was that or lay around and sulk which is actually easy for me as a person who has struggled with poor body image forever and ever amen. The thing is, the loss of the dresses weren’t enough to get me out the door and to the gym. What did? The desire to have a good quality of life in the long term. I don’t want any further diabetes complications, nor acceleration of spinal and other joint problems. I just want to live and live well, so I continue to work. If the work means that maintaining this new body is the best that can be done and all my numbers look good, then I will learn in time to be satisfied with where I am.
What about you ladies AND gents, how do you handle weight gain physically and mentally? Let me know in the comments or on any of these other platforms.
Until next time, see you at the MALL, where I’ll be buying something that doesn’t require sucking in or Spanx.
Sunday January 4, 2015 a day I won’t soon forget. This was the day that the Lord had made, I SHOULD have rejoiced and been glad in it but ummmm, well this is what happened.
I got up hit the mat for yoga practice with this, ate, showered and prepped for church. This Sunday was dreary and rainy so my attire needed to be appropriate for that and be comfortable as I’d be shooting some photos of service. I selected a variation of my go-to uniform, long sleeve tee, pencil skirt, boots and tights. Standing in the closet I take the skirt off the hanger and step into it, pull it up and WHAM, my butt got in the way of the zipper, I did a spin maneuver to zip it most of the way, when BAM I hit the final obstacle my gut. I sucked it in, spun that skirt around and asked can I move without the skirt RIDING HIGH and will wearing it be a distraction, remember I am moving during church? To answer I did some fancy pageant walking, checked my hind parts in the mirror and added a long sweater over the tee and a scarf, deemed myself presentable and headed out the door.
Once moving the skirt was fine, sitting wasn’t a problem either, truly the Lord was WITH ME as he KNEW my skirt struggle and how it almost derailed me. I enjoyed service, got my shots, talked to my buddies after church and flew home to remove the red sausage casing from my body and exhaled.
Ye olde broad’s new body was borne of changing hormones with a dose of grief but the main culprit was food, specifically obscene amounts of snacks chased with red wine and Guinness. Do I like this new body? Nah, but with age comes wisdom, instead of performing the self beat down, I just copped to it and am continuing with modifications that I’d already begun to make. I also know that I am not alone.
Some of you fine folks out there may have indulged a bit during the holidays, maybe you’ve been sidelined by an injury or illness, been crazy busy or have never felt a need or want to exercise or be mindful of your diet until now. It’s okay, as long as you’re upright and above ground you can make a change.
What’s your red sausage? Are you ready to let it go? Let me know in the comments.
Until next time see you on the road wear I’ll be wearing a red skirt, looking like a HUMAN instead of a sausage.