It has been 4 days since my initial weigh in. This sucks. I am not going to lie. Seeing those numbers on the scale was like waking up with a pimple on my wedding day. I had not seen numbers that high since my post baby check up at the doctor for my now 15 year old. How did I end up here and how am I going to get myself out of this.
If this were 20 years ago this would be easy…A pack of Virginia Slims light, Diet coke and a bag of pretzels and it would all be of in 2 weeks. But this is not 1996 and I cannot nicotine/caffeine the pounds away. I am going to have to work my old menopausal ass off and truthfully I don’t know if I have the emotional/physical stamina to do this.
I said I would blog about this so I will but I can see how some days are going to be harder than others. For example today… I have been dieting for 4 days and I have not lost an ounce. I think I may have even gained a pound actually.
On the day of the weigh in my husband came with me to the gym. In hindsight this was probably not the smartest move given my emotional state. The line to get on the scale was extended to the steps. Which was about 30 people deep. Wait a freakin minute. I thought this was going to be private. I did not realize I would be getting on a scale in front of trainers and members of the gym. WHAT??? After waiting on that line for what felt like an eternity I got on the scale. I wanted to cry when the numbers reached up to those of a small circus animal. How did this happen? I mean I sort of know how this happened . Too many nights of an extra glass of wine, bread basket, cappuccinos, eating off my kids plates, a bite of this a bites of that, an emergency box of candy hidden in my glove compartment. The list is endless. Now here I am standing on a scale in a room full of strangers vulnerable and exposed. You know that dream where you go to school naked? This is it but I am wearing spandex, which by the way is much too tight.
So after this humbling experience they usher you over to a table to meet with your “coach”. Which happens to be a trainer armed with all the training tools the military uses to knock you down and drag you backup. They give you all these fabulous offers and discounts on private training, supplements, tests, classes, a meeting with a nutritionist… the list was endless. I think they may have thrown in a small child but I am not sure because after the fourth or fifth item I was already plotting my escape.
Needless to say I left the gym and my head was spinning. How am I going to get this weight of? How did I get this fat? How am I going to motivate myself to get here? How can I keep my one glass of wine per week? What the fuck am I going to eat? Do I really look as bad as I feel? Who killed Jr? Is Elvis really dead? What ever happened to my cabbage patch doll?
Well friends here I am. Four days later and I am still a hot mess only now I get emails from Danielle, my perky 22 year old coach. Reminding me that she is here for me and asking what I am doing to change old habits. Other than purging my glove compartment of a stale box of Hot Tamales I am not sure how I have changed. I am pretty sure when I said to Danielle “I am entering menopause and and don’t know how I am going to do this” she was thinking the same thing. As well as “how did I get this old bag on my team.”
I vowed to blog about this so I am. I am determined to figure something out and take this weight off. I am not sure how but I will. I have to weigh in again next Monday. I have six days to pull it together and figure something out. There is no way I am getting on that scale Monday and seeing those numbers again. Somehow someway the scale has to start moving in the other direction. Until the next weigh in….happy eating!
