Musing on weight loss: I had an interesting conversation with a woman at the pool today. She was commenting that she needed a new bathing suit, as she had lost fifty pounds. My curiosity was instantly aroused, of course, and I asked her how long it had taken: seven months. She eliminated “seven food groups” that she had food insensitivity to, at the recommendation of a doctor. (Note that I managed not to snort at the idea of being advised to eliminate seven food groups, although now (of course) I’m wondering if “cake” and “soda” count as food groups.) (Seriously, are there seven food groups? I really wish I’d asked what she can eat.) She complained about the cost of a whole new wardrobe. She complained that her doctor now wants her to add in more exercise because her weight loss has “stalled.”
As most people who know me know at this point, it’s taken me three-and-a-half years to lose 57 pounds. I didn’t need to replace my wardrobe all at once–I’m still wearing some clothes (stuff that was *really* tight when I started) and others I replaced as I wore them out. I’ve gotten really good at shrinking sweaters just a little bit (they get warmer when you do that, too).
I have been impatient with my weight loss from day one. But I have come over time to see my very slow weight loss as a huge advantage. Because it results from small incremental changes in what I eat and how I spend my time, I don’t see those changes as temporary. I find myself thinking that I’ve kept those first twenty pounds off for 2.5 years; thirty-five total for 1.5 years… It’s not the loss that’s hard, it’s the keeping the weight from sneaking back–and I’ve gotten really good at that.