Category Archives: Chubby girl

lost weight loss

i am really, really good at losing 30 pounds. but only in between bouts of my true talent: gaining 30 pounds.

once again, i’ve hit that critical mass that spurs me to horror and a rueful determination to change my ways.

but, a lot has changed since the last time i was in weight loss mode and i have some things to figure out. the most impactful:  we moved. i used to live a five minute walk away from a gold’s gym, where i logged most of my running hours on the treadmill. on the weekends, i ran the 3.2 mile path around lake merritt.

but we moved to a new house and got married, all in the same month, so my workout habit fell apart in july of last year, as wedding plans ramped up. we did a friends+family 5k run around the lake the morning of our wedding, and that was the first time i had done any running in a long time. and the last.

photo by Ali Carras

after the hannavance 5k wedding day run, photo by Ali Carras

after the wedding, i spent some time just generally slacking off and being relieved to be human again. some time turned into a few months and then i sprained my ankle pretty badly at the end of october. any working out that i had been doing came to a complete stand still.

my weight watchers membership fee mocked me every month.

as is my way, the lack of exercise led to terrible/wonderful gluttony in my eating habits and the fatness just kept coming.

my tolerance for out-fatting 98% of my wardrobe stretched a bit too thin, and here we are. but no gold’s gym and no lake.

so i’ve been taking classes at a spinning studio (that is close by, but i have to drive to). it’s too pricey to do all the time, but is probably a good twice a week option. there’s a boot camp kind of thing super close by, and i’m signed up to try that out for a month, with a groupon.

i should try to get back into some running, but i’m scared. scared of all the progress lost and how hard it will be. and just dragging my feet on the idea of running without the convenience of a park and foot path.

but the bits that i am doing are helping me feel motivated to do more and are inspiring my eating habits.

which all means that i’m back to thinking and doing a lot about food and exercise and that means that it’s bubbling up here, too.

again. shrug!

 

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de-fatting

I mentioned that I was working on my de-fatting process.  (Which I can’t think about without also thinking “Again!”)

But whatever.  Yes, I’m working on it again.  And so far, it’s creeping along.  When I’m sticking to an exercise routine and making an effort to even just halfway think about what I’m eating, it almost seems easy.

6 weeks in and 12.2 pounds lost.  Me being me and the half empty glass and what not, I tend to get a bit bogged down thinking about the 50 other pounds I should lose.  But at least 12 pounds does seem like a something.  More than a blip.

And the little graph actually makes me feel quite nice.  Look at all the down-going!

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stuff that happened while I slothed on blogging: Fat Tuesday

I got a little fed up with my own “I want to lose some weight” whine and joined Weight Watchers.  Yeah, I roll my eyes at the clichedness of it myself.

I really just needed that official weekly weigh-in and accountability.  Everything else about it is kind of fluff.  I know how to eat well and I’m familiar with exercise.  The meetings aren’t teaching me anything I don’t already know in spades, but I do kind of enjoy that self indulgent half an hour block of time to wallow in the woe-is-me-it’s-hard-not-to-eat-french-fries!

I do like tracking food and activities – most of the time.  When I’ve gone out to eat somewhere, the prospect of trying to guess the worth of the meal is just too stupid and I leave it blank.

But so far it’s gone alright.  I lost 6.6 pounds in the first 3 weeks.  And since it’s Fat Tuesday, there’s another weigh in tonight.  I have some concerns about how well that’s going to go.  There was a lot of extra eating this week and a dearth of extra exercising.  The odds may not be in my favor.  But the point is that I will go, I will face whatever the number is, and move on.  And then just do my best to make it a little better next week.

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the plight of jeans

I like to wear jeans a lot.  In the world according to me, you can just wear the same pair of jeans every day and that’s completely normal.

I’ve tried a gamut of brands and styles.  Old Navy jeans.  Gap jeans.  7 for all Mankind.  Joe’s Jeans.    Despite having owned many over the year, I don’t have a stock pile at all.  I have no tucked away pairs from high school or college.  No jeans that are too big or too small, squirreled away for later.  None, even, that never quite fit right or didn’t look good that I just crammed on a shelf.

Because eventually, the inner thighs of all my jeans wear out and explode.

First it gets a little grubby and pilly, like an old sweater.

Then it gets a bit threadbare.

And eventually, it just rips.

And because that inner thigh area is just so soft and squishy, there’s a fascinating fleshy protuberance that comes through the rip.  When I say fascinating, I mean that I can’t stop myself from touching it.  It’s like a weird hernia, all soft, but firm from being squished through an opening where there should be no ooze.

{I seriously considered posting a picture of the fleshy protuberance.  I may not be ready for crotch shots just yet.}

So, then I usually get a patch sewn on at the dry cleaners when the first thigh blows out.  And then a second one.

But the erosion continues and there are new rips.  New fleshy protuberances.

And eventually, I admit that yet another pair has been defeated by the unyielding friction of my inner thighs.

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“It was worth every second next to that hot nut cart”

Have you seen this TED talk from Brittany Gibbons?  She’s one of the founders of Curvy Girl Guide, an online magazine that covers all your basic lady magazine fodder, but told from the perspective of regular sized women.

She started this campaign to get women to hate their bodies less by showing off her own body, standing in Times Square in her bathing suit.  The video of this talk is breathtaking.  Her conviction is contagious and her palpable fear at being on stage makes her seem real and relatable.  She’s not some Amazonian plus sized super model lolling about in her knickers telling me that I should believe in my own beauty; she’s a regular lady, being nervous about taking off her clothes in front of strangers.
At the end, she shows photos of other women in their bathing suits.  They all saw her on tv, baring it (mostly) all, being brave, and sending this message that she’s ok with how she looks.  And I totally teared up.  People being inspired by other people is always a tear jerker for me.

I loved everything about it.  Almost.

About five and a half minutes in, she says “I’m a mother three times over… I’ve earned ever single curve on my body.  And if that’s not sexy, I don’t know what is.”

And I felt annoyed at her.  Like she didn’t totally own up to her body, which she did say was the same body she’s had since she was 8.  She *earned* every curve by being a mother, which made those curves holy or something, instead of just the ordinary result of too much couch time.  No free pass for being fat if you haven’t been a mother?  Does she think she wouldn’t be sexy or be less sexy if she hadn’t had children?

I asked her about it, actually, and she graciously responded saying that it took motherhood for her to understand and appreciate her body.  Which I get.  I think.  I’m not really sure how much I can grok that perspective without being a mother myself, but I think I get it.

But still.

I don’t think it matters why you got fat, or why you stay fat, or if you’re working to be less fat.

What other people say or think is irrelevant.  Be ok with who you are.  Change things that you don’t like if you don’t like them.  But you can still be ok along the way.  You’re ok if you’re a mom.  Or a dad.
I’m ok.  You’re ok.

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you feel like somebody’s watching you?

I was reading a blog last week that brought up an issue that i’ve seen a cart load of times on various healthy living and weight loss blogs:  “I worry about working out because I’m afraid of other people seeing me.”

This particular blog was addressing an US Weekly article that Runner’s World Magazine posted on Facebook about a chubby KFed going for a run.  The article touched a sore point for a lot of people, who are afraid of being judged and ridiculed if they step foot outside to exercise.  If US Weekly can make fun of Kevin Federline, then probably everyone else is making fun of you, too, right?

In response to the article and the resulting flack that RW got for posting it, Ben basically says that the fear that other people are judging you is “nearly 100% in your head.”

I just had to say that I really disagree.

Maybe I am on the supreme court of judgmentalism, but I always notice people, including those people working out.  My eyeballs are open.  And I know what overweight looks like.  Or what morbidly obese looks like.  Which is not to say that I can calculate your BMI just by looking.  I’m not the Rainman of fatness here.  But given the miracle of sight, I do see people working out and I notice if they’re overweight.

I notice people’s clothing.  Their hair.  Their makeup.  If they can walk in their high heel shoes.  And to some degree, these things say something.  Like you have a corporate job.  You like wearing all black.  You spend time getting your hair done.  Maybe I will guess that you are a tourist from Belarus.

I make observations in the gym and out running, as well.
If you’re in my line of vision and you’re chubby, I will notice.
But the same goes if you’ve got an incredible body.
And if you’re exceptionally, boringly normal, I will probably see you, too.  But you might not spark enough cogitation in my brain mechanism to warrant a fully formed thought.
Instead, I will have a fleeting notice of the guy with the really big arms and I will make the assumption that he probably works out a lot.
The really thin girl who is frantically pedaling away on the elliptical?  I will notice her and I’ll wonder about her.
The chick on the treadmill next to me in the terry track suit walking at 1.5 mph (for reals) pace while she farts around on her phone at 6 am…  I am definitely wondering about her, too.
If I saw a guy like Kevin Federline running around my lake, I would think in my head that he was fat and I’d wonder why he chose to run without a shirt.  But I tend to wonder the same thing about fitter guys, too.  Are they just really warm?  Do they think they look awesome?  Are they actually trying to show off their bodies in a kinda douchey way?  Or do they just like the way it feels?

I don’t think I’m special.  I think I’m pretty normal really.  And that means that most likely, people other than me are looking at you when you exercise.  You’re not invisible.  Surprise!

And people are going to notice if you’re overweight.  Which doesn’t mean that they’re thinking that you’re gross or that you don’t belong or that you suck.  But for most of us, our overweightness is not a secret.  It’s not like I’ve squirreled away an extra 50 pounds that I’ve discreetly hidden away in one foot.  You can see it, no matter what I’m wearing or what I’m doing.  It’s not a judgement.  It’s an observation.

If you are new to working out and you’re feeling nervous about all the *other people,* I do have some actual recommendations other than the above pontificated “get over it.”

Wear clothes.  KFed chose to go out without a shirt.  He knows he’s chubby.  He’ knows that there are paparazzi.  Obviously, he’s not worried about people seeing the fatness.  If you are, put a shirt on.

Get a good sports bra.  If your gazongas are bouncing around with wild abandon, people ARE going to notice.  I love the Moving Comfort Fiona bra.  Skinnie Emmie loves Enell.  There are tons of options.  Just get one that says it’s appropriate for the type of activity for your cup size.

Similarly, wear clothes that fit.  I don’t think it really matters if you were loose things or clingy things, although I’d recommend experimenting to see what you like if you are new to this.  But it’s really important for your workout clothes to fit well.  I know from personal, unfortunate experience that a too small top is going to ride up, exposing your tummy – be it perfectly flat and rippled or blobby and bulgy.  If you’re oozing out of your clothes in ways that the clothing was not designed for, other people are probably going to notice this, and not in a nice way.  If your clothes are specifically designed to expose oozing flesh, then by all means.

I was always worried that people were going to see me stop running and slowing to a walk and that they’d *know* that I was out of shape and couldn’t keep running.  Which was true, I was out of shape and I had to stop.  Looking back, I’d say that there are two things that would have helped here:  1)  using the couch to 5k program (which I did use and complete at a later time).  Having something else that is specifically telling you “it’s time to stop” is helpful.  You’re not wussing out.  You’re following instructions.  Don’t feel bad.  2)  slow down and pace yourself.  There’s a difference between having to walk because you’re completely out of breath after going too fast and walking in between intervals of running as you build up endurance.

Do it with a friend.  Having a pal makes everyone feel less self conscious.

Take off the Five Fingers.  Seriously.  They look weird.  They’re all gonna laugh at you and maybe throw tampons in the shower.

Ask for help.  If your gym doesn’t automatically give you a proper tour when you sign up, ask for one.  It helps to know where stuff is and how to use it.  And if you want to do the workout that you saw in last month’s Shape magazine, but you don’t where the stuff is that you need, just ask.  Those beautiful people at the front desk who joke around with all the regulars?  They can be totally helpful and in my experience, I’ve never sniffed an iota of judgement from one of them ever.

And finally, even if you are out there, jogging way too fast, with your boobs flying, your tummy flopping, all by yourself… what’s more important?  That you’re out there getting one step closer to being better, fitter faster?  Or that people are looking at you?

 

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fat tuesday

Well.  Shrug.

I won’t be quitting my day job to become a weight loss blogger today.

But I got on the scale this morning as planned, so I might as well just tell you.

It was not awesome.  Nor was it terrible.  I lost the mass of a small rodent from my person!
And considering that there was some girl-date drinking (1/2 a bottle of wine and a champagne cocktail), some birthday boy drinking (2 paulaners) and then some more birthday boy drinking last night (2 glasses of rosé), I’m not disappointed at all really.

October 4:  193.0
October 11:  189.6
October 18:  191.4
October 25:  190.8  =  – 0.6 pounds this week

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fat tuesday

One of my biggest blogging pet peeves is weight loss bloggers who don’t lose any weight.

Actually, it’s not the unmoving numbers on the scale that bug me so much.  It’s the purported use of the blog as a source of accountability and support followed by the subsequent bashful admissions of poor eating choices and the gym schedule that never was.  It feels all bait and switch; I want to follow a story.  Stagnation, even if you have tons of excuses for it, ain’t a story.

Which is all a big fat preface to saying that I gained weight in my little weekly weigh-in today and I am feeling really sheepish!

I had some little snarly thoughts about never blogging about weight loss efforts again.  Which isn’t the same as abandoning the efforts, because I’ve still got some purple snow pants to squeeze into.  But maybe it would be better to just not blab about it.  Like any sane person.  Or I will become my own biggest pet peeve.  And that’s too paradoxical for current musing.

Soo… I bequeath myself one more chance.  But, if the scale tells me something dumb again next Tuesday, then I’m just gonna keep that little gem to myself.

Or maybe make Fat Tuesday a once a month occurrence.

Whatever!  We’ll see, shall we?

Right, so.  The dirty details, eh?

October 4:  193.0
October 11:  189.6
October 18:  191.4  +1.8 pounds

RATS.

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fat tuesday

I am too fat for my snow pants.  Again.

As a lovely example of my contrariness, when everyone else is getting all twitchy about readying their bikini bodies, I’m very busy eating a lot of cheese.  Instead, I get all worried about being winter wear ready for ski season, because of these stupid snow pants.  I refuse to buy new ones.  I will use the ones I have!

This year, I ran a half marathon at the end of March and another at the end of July.  Which seems like something that would encourage thinness, I know.  But I get all tangled and weird, using these herculean physical endeavors as excuses to have treats.  And hamburgers.

And then!  After it’s over?  Oh, THEN!  That dreamy period of sloth we call “recovery.”  You’re supposed to do it.  Take a little break after you do something so taxing!

Me?  A break?

Mmmm.  Yeah.  Ok.  That sounds delightful.  I think I need to make some popcorn to go with this recovering.

So Sir Isaac comes along and he’s all “You’re at rest!  Stay at rest!”

Next thing I know, it’s been a month since I’ve put on my sneakers.

Twice this year, then, I’ve gone through periods of it’s-ok-to-eat-too-much-cause-I’m-in-training followed by I’ll-start-exercising-again-soon-but-right-now-I’m-in-recovery.

Which means that now I’m fat again and I can’t fit into my snow pants again.  (Yeah, this happened last year, too.  Not because of the marathons.  Just because of natural proclivities for fatness.)

All of which is to say that I’m on the wagon again now and have about 20 pounds to lose before Christmas.

Hence, there should be a “fat tuesday” post every week, while I try to regain my former levels of svelte-like chubbitude that mean I will be able to fit into my size Large snow pants.  Because Large is large enough, dag nabbit.

Week 1 -3.4 pounds

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the forces of good and evil collide

The official race photos came out.  I was super excited to see them.  Because zomg!
I ran a half marathon!

But then I saw them.  And then a lotta self-beat-uppery commenced.  I could rant and rave an ocean of vitriol about these pictures, but suffice it to say, I’m appalled by the fatness.

This is somewhere in between 9 and 10 miles, I think.

Look!  You smiled!  And you waved!  And seriously!  LOOK!  That is you.  Doing this crazy scary thing that you didn’t think you could.

But it’s like I can’t properly look.  I can only see the bad parts.

I think part of what appealed to me about all the running was that it’s like shirking this woe-is-me fat girl personae.  And I hate that lady.  She’s embarrassing.  I would rather either a) not be fat or b) pretend that I’m not.  So I don’t like talking about her.  I’m not even feeling so confident about writing this right now, because it feels like such a big admission.  I hate that fat lady.

I don’t want to dwell on her.  So let’s move on.  That’s enough looking at the pictures.  I’ll just use this to try and re-focus on efforts of not-fatness, and now that I’ve released this little snarl, just be nice to myself.

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