Weighty Caty

Yeah, I know.  Worst pun ever.

So, I went to the Health Department today.  I'd had the appointment for months.  I have to go to the HD for receive birth control pills, since I don't have a PCP and I'm uninsured.  Anyway, I went in today for my annual physical, and had to step up on the scale.  I haven't been weighed on a scale since the last time I went in for my physical, which was back in September 2010.

Like most other women I know, I've struggled with my weight for some time.  When I entered high school at 15, I was pretty heavy and I liked wearing tight clothes.  It wasn't a good combo.  As high school continued, I slimmed down, but not to the point of actually being slim, just to the smallest size I've been since puberty.  Upon attending college, I of course gained the Freshman Fifteen, and then some.  And once I lived in a dorm, it was all pretty much over, because I sat and watched TV and ate all the time, simply because I could.  This evened out, though, because I had to walk all over campus to class, and often times, I chose to walk around town to fast food places, or drug stores, or whatever.  Because I was always walking somewhere, and therefore getting in some form of exercise, eating a lot didn't blow me up so much.

But now, it's a different story.  Ever since I graduated from college, I've been packing on pounds.  This is mostly due to the lack of exercise.  I don't really eat candy or chocolate, and I usually drink water in place of tea or soda.  The fact is, I have blown up, and even though I didn't like it to be begin with, it honestly didn't bother me enough to try and fix it.

Ever since I stepped on that scale earlier today, it's been bothering me.  You see, I didn't have a number to associate with the weight gain, so I didn't really know how much I'd put on.  I knew my arms were getting flabby, and that I was quickly growing a double chin.  Even in my wedding photos, you can tell I had gained weight.

The last time I was weighed, my weight was 165.  This was bad enough.  I didn't like this number.  I tried to tell myself that it was just a number, and that it doesn't mean the same for everyone.  And it doesn't.  But as of today, I now know that I weigh 188.  That means something to me.  It means something really bad.  165 was bad enough, but the new number is way too close to 200 for comfort.  I really don't want to weigh that much.  I don't want to look like a supermodel, or even go down a few sizes, although those are nice thoughts.  I want to be healthy.  That number isn't healthy.  I want a new number.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do to start fixing this.  I'm probably going to gourd myself on water for a while, and hopefully get into an exercise routine.  I can run and walk when I take Bonnie out, instead of just walking.  And there are lots of workout videos on Netflix I can utilize.  Exercise is really my only option because I'm weak with food.  I don't want to starve, and I don't want to completely change my diet.  I like the food I eat.  Perhaps better portions are in order on that front.

I find it ironic that every year since I was 15, I've made the New Year's resolution to lose weight.  I didn't do that this year, because it's never something I live up to.  But maybe that'll change this year.  Maybe I'll finally be able to make some of this go away.  Here's hoping.