I knew it was probably bad, but it was easy to ignore. After all, this entire summer I lived in cute cotton sundresses and elastic waisted skirts. It’s just too hot to have fabric clinging to your body. I love summer clothes. They hide every glass of wine, bowl of guacamole and bag of salt & vinegar chips. It started in February, really, about the time I started this blog. I was lonely and bored after quitting my job. Then depression hit full on in May after Chelsea died and I just couldn’t get motivated to do anything but eat, and sit, and ponder. By the time I pulled out of my funk, it was the middle of summer and swing dresses and backyard bbq’s, vacations full of late night dinners and big buffet breakfasts. The size of my butt had become sort of a mystery.
Then the weather turned, viciously, and I had to reach for my pair of favorite jeans. They have been washed so many times the denim feels like felt.
“Hmmm…these are a little snug,” I optimistically thought trying to pull them past my thighs. I managed to tuck my extra body into the jeans but was acutely aware that they were not going to button. As I stood there staring at the stack of denim, searching desperately for my “fat pair” it pained me to remember that I had already given a large percentage of my “skinny jeans” away. The sound of the receiver’s voice still burned my ears, remembering how after each pair was tried on the comments, “These are a little big, but I think they will work” or “I can’t believe you would want to give these away” were spoken out loud. Really? You thought I wanted to give them away? No, they were just a sad reminder that my body is turning against me. And although I am well aware how this personal conflict has grown, it still feels like an ambush.
To add insult to injury, my “fat pair” of jeans didn’t fit either.
I refuse to buy new jeans in the next size. That feels like complete defeat. However, I do need something other than sweat pants or yoga pants to wear outside the house. Thank goodness for the Salvation Army Store – I succumbed to buying one $5 pair that will do for now.
About a year and a half ago we got a Nintendo Wii for the family. The Wii Fit became part of our daily routine. It was easy to hop on and off since it was hooked up to our family room T.V., which is right in the center of our house. Even after the kids went to bed, DW and I would challenge each other, trying to top scores and unlock new games. We are very competitive, I even took advantage of the fact that I was home during the day to rack up the points. It is pretty sad scrolling through the top scores and realizing I hold not only most of the #1 scores on any given game, but also #’s 2-5 as well. Foolishly the Wii got moved to the kids playroom, the finished loft above our garage. It seemed like it made the most sense. Why did we need everything hanging out in the middle of the house when they had their own space? It’s not like it is that far to walk up a set of stairs, right? But “out of sight, out of mind”. DW and I didn’t get back on the Wii again.
This week the Wii was moved back downstairs so that we could play it with DW’s parents while they were here visiting. We were all slightly shocked and embarrassed when the Wii greeted us.
“Welcome back. It has been 501 days since we last worked out.”
501 days? How bad was it, really? The last time I took a body test was in the middle of a Girls on the Run season and I had been running at least four days a week to keep up with my team. My Mii was waiting patiently for me to step on the scale. Her smile seemed a little crooked this time, a glint in her eye suggesting she knew this was going to be embarrassing. She had that “mean girl” look, hands on the hips to showcase her slim Mii body, reminding me that I could no longer hide behind the flowing fabrics of summer.Right foot. Left foot.
“UUUGGHH!” moaned the Wii as I hoisted my full weight on the board.
Calculating…calculating. I swear another moan escaped during the process and my Mii’s grin grew wider.
Then the moment I was dreading. The numbers flashed before me.
10.1 lbs more than my last weigh-in.
I stood there numb. Luckily I had the sense to take this body test in private and not be embarrassed in front of the rest of my family before I had a chance to digest this new information. My mind started to play games with me, excusing the weight as no big deal. Afterall, in all honesty, even at this weight I still fall within the “healthy” range for my height and age. There is like a 20 lb leeway right? My BMI is normal and not overweight so what really is there to complain about?
Perhaps the fact that I have a closet full of clothes that I can not wear.
Then my Mii sighed -her slim body changed to reflect this new weight. She was obviously annoyed with her new physique. I continued the body test, taking a series of exercises to measure my balance and agility in order to calculate my Wii Fit age. It all seemed pretty easy and simple. At least I still could boast a young face even if my body was giving away my age. I felt pretty confident as the Wii started calculating the final tally.
Was that a smirk on my Mii’s face?
I stood patiently.
“Based on your current weight and scores, your Wii Fit age is…41.”
I blinked. What? Four years older than I truly am? My eyes started to water as I turned off the screen. I slunk up the stairs to bed, crawled under the sheets in silence.
“What’s wrong?” asked DW.
“I’m old and fat,“I sulked.
There was a moment of silence. Too long a moment actually.
“Well?” I asked peeved.
“You look great,” DW replied.
He always replies in this manner no matter what the question. Do you like my hair? How does dinner taste? Do you like the color paint I picked for the walls? His answer is ALWAYS it looks great! Yet somehow, I felt no comfort in his words. I had nothing else to say but goodnight.
“And you know I love you,” he added.
Today I signed up for Jazzercise. And the Wii is staying in the family room.