How's it going?

 

Picture yesterday.
I have a "start day" photo, but it's so
unflattering - not so much in the body,
but in my expression. I forget to smile!

This is week two of the weight loss meds. Today is Friday, and injection day is Thursday. I have found that this blog is very useful to me as a journal and a reference, keeping me honest in my memories. It's so easy for a memory to become a story, and as it does so, it morphs and changes. That's not all bad, but it's good to also have a reality check on the past. And so I think it's worth capturing what's going on with me even when I feel like the answer is "not much".

The first week on the meds was fine. I had a great deal of trepidation, but all I have felt is minor versions of classic side effects. My stomach feels full quickly, and remains that way for a while. I'm gassy (and I was gassy before, too!) and sometimes those burps seem to carry some acid with them. I am often cold - no more am I embracing the weather in full Scandi style. Instead, I'm huddling in layers, under electric blankets, and not going out as much as I was before. (My tiktok girlies tell me this is a common symptom.) My sleep varies, with several periods of being wakeful in the middle of the night, other mornings the wakefulness starts at 5, and I just get up. (One night I peed FIVE times, leading me to adjust my hydration schedule!) Don't know if this sleep disruption is a symptom, as this sometimes happened anyway. I'm consistently getting to bed earlier, which helps.

Wednesday, the day before injection day, I was truly hungry for the first time. And for the first time that week I went over my daily points. (My WW reset points week is injection day.) Weekly points had been accumulating, from leftovers and activity, so there was plenty of buffer in the budget. I am focused on the protein and fiber numbers, and it is truly an effort to get there. I just added "calories" to the summary stats WW posts for each day, and I find most days have been below their suggested minimum of 1200. I don't want my body to go into starvation mode, start digesting my own muscles, and become hyper-efficient, requiring heroic efforts to lose any weight. I've been at least close to the targets every day, but I'm now planning to add an evening snack every day I seem to be falling short. My work is to have an inventory of snacks that move me in the right direction, not ice cream or Trader Joe's treats.

The injection paraphernalia I have to assemble for
the actual injection. I had the instructions out for this,
the second injection, not trusting to memory. 

I'm trying to undo years of a habitual after-eating flop to the couch and instead get up and move around after eating, which is really helpful in reducing any discomfort. I'm also trying to slow down my eating, and I'm breaking meals into smaller pieces - stopping partway through a meal, but coming back to the leftovers after an hour or two. I'm eating, but I'm on a major campaign to preserve or even build muscle through this, and so eating enough is really important to me. For the first time, I'm really using the WW app to plan in advance in detail. I try in the morning to build a day that will reach the four-way optimization of enough protein, fiber, and calories, while staying below the total points.

I've talked to my trainer about the WL meds, and she's on board with upping the weights and really going for improvement, not just maintenance, to fight muscle loss. I've had great workouts, and right after the workout I'm drinking a protein shake. They are excellent sources of protein and fiber, and I've found a brand that is fine. It tastes good, and I'm able to eat a tangerine or something afterwards to do away with a not-terrific aftertaste. I'm also sticking to my 15 minutes of cardio on the days I don't lift weights (so 2x weight training, 4x cardio, one day off). I was exhilarated yesterday on the Nordic Trak, and again today on the stationary bike, to find it had gotten much much easier.  The purpose of the cardio is to improve my cardio-vascular fitness, and the last two days were the highest I've gotten my heart rate up in a long time. I'm trying to hit the cardio commitment for the entire month of February and I've tied the purchase of some fun new tech to achieving that. When I talked about a newer, higher commitment for March, my trainer wisely suggested seeing if I'm still improving with the 15 minutes - and I am. So we'll see how it goes.

What has happened to my weight, by day 9 of the meds? I believe I have ranted before about how I think about my weight:  it is not really the number that appears at any one moment on the scale, but an average based on the trend. Variation around that trend is caused by water, and other transitory factors. And certainly the weight has been as volatile as ever this week. Here is the picture:

My weight in 2026- turn phone to landscape
The small green dots are daily scale readings. The dark blue line is the weekly average of those.
The big red dot is the first day of injection. 
The orange fuzzy lines are the 5-pound range I've been in since midway through 2022. 

 My weight was at the top end of my range since the beginning of the year (including my mid-January vacation). My daily scale readings have certainly gone down since the first injection. This is not uncommon, in my first week of trying to lose weight. But I won't really consider I'm well on my way to actually losing weight until I consistently see numbers below the bottom orange line - out of the past few years' range. 

But it certainly is nice to see the trend line going down!

 

 

A Year (+) of Intuitive Eating

(Note: to see this graph on a phone, turn horizontally.) This is my weight graph from 1988 to the present. The actual pound numbers are deliberately left off, but the horizontal grid lines are ten pounds apart. The blue horizontal line is my aspirational "goal weight" (to which I no longer aspire) and the red horizontal line is where my body seemed to have settled during late middle age, and where I'd be thrilled to get back to. See how my weight shot up faster than ever in 2022, when I first read "Intuitive Eating".

I first wrote about Intuitive Eating (The Thing) back in January a year ago. I revisited it later that month, and then, in May, wrote a "Fuck You, Intuitive Eating" post.  I had gained more than 15 pounds, and was was extremely annoyed with having done so. Never-the-less, I didn't reject everything the book, and the approach, had to say. I had made some changes, learned some things, and it has stuck with me.

I pretty much spent last year telling myself I was going to ignore my weight and focus on activity, as a way of being more fit and stronger, not as a way to lose weight. I've had some physical challenges, from my knees and my back and getting covid, so my progress is not what I'd like it to be. But I don’t want to ignore my weight any longer.

The Intuitive Eating principles are good, and there is nothing in them I will disagree with. To refresh memories, here they are: 

1. Reject the Diet Mentality
2. Honor Your Hunger
3. Make Peace with Food
4. Challenge the Food Police
5. Feel Your Fullness
6. Discover the Satisfaction Factor
7. Cope with Your Feelings Without Food
8. Respect Your Body
9. Exercise: Feel the Difference
10. Honor Your Health: Gentle Nutrition

But the implementation seems to wander into territories I do disagree with. I joined a Facebook group specifically aimed at beginners to IE, with moderators and others answering questions. There, IE seems to be based on these ideas:

1. Few people actually lose weight on diets.
2. Of those who do, almost all gain it all back, or more.
3. And so, don’t bother trying to lose weight. It won’t work.
4. All food is morally equivalent and emotionally equivalent.
5. Any restrictions on what you eat will inevitably lead to boomerang overeating. 
6. Eventually, if you just eat what you want, you will naturally eat well. (But not be skinny).
7. Weight cycling can be worse for health than being fat.
   
8. It's possible to be healthy and fat.
9. The medical system will blame ills to being fat rather than treating the actual illness.
10. Any suggestion that being fat is bad for you is fat shaming.
    

There is truth in all of these, but they are not irreversible laws of the universe. My own personal experience challenges the first two points: I lost over forty pounds twenty-five years ago, and yes, I gained it all back - this year - twenty-five years later! There is no question in my mind that my life has been better in many dimensions because of twenty-five years of weighing less. I could move better, wear nicer clothes, achieve more social and professional acceptance, all because of weighing less. Much of this is societal, not health, oriented, but hey, I live in this world and that stuff matters. Were my health outcomes better? I don't know - I have had back and knee problems, and migraines, all along these 25 years and I don't think it's all tied to when I weighed more.

One more point to rag on IE folks: all foods being morally and emotionally equivalent. Not ever going to happen. I know things about food, nutrition facts, yes, but also facts about their origin and their impact on the planet and things living on it. Also, I do have some decades of having memories tied up in foods. So not all equal, no way. This is where I got into some arguments with the folks on the IE forum. Some are intransigent on the topic "All food is processed, even if it's to pluck from a tree and brush it off before biting it. So there is nothing wrong with processed food." This is where the cult comes in. Can't argue with cult members.

So what have I learned from IE?

I deliberately sought out and ate foods that I have been avoiding, more or less, for the last twenty-five years. Specifically, bread and pasta. Sweets too, of course, but more so bread and pasta. And guess what?  I still could have a love affair with the white flour products. They still taste good, sometimes wonderful. But making them an everyday part of most meals does not feel good to me. They taste good, and my body feels fine right afterwards, but I am very aware there is a longer term reaction to them. They make me crazy and I want more and more. This is over the long term, hours and days. If I eat them daily, the urge to eat more and more stays permanently. So, surprise surprise, the way I ate twenty-five years ago, steering away from the bread and pasta, is the way I feel better. 

So here’s what I’m thinking. When I get a carb-type craving, I might go ahead and make pasta or bread, but I might also steer towards beans, peas, eggplants, other roasted veggies with a sauce... I can get the immediate soothing fullness from those foods and I'm more likely to skip the craziness later. This is a useful learning, and helps me avoid the rebound/rebellion effect from simply saying "I can't have them". But if I really want them, I can have them. I keep bread in the freezer and pasta in the cupboard. (As an aside, the jury is still out on oatmeal. I started making steel cut oats in the instant pot, and eating no more than half a cup with toppings for breakfast. Unlike most starches, it didn’t result in early insistent hunger pangs in just a couple of hours most days, instead carrying me to a late lunch if necessary. So I may keep oatmeal in the breakfast rotation for a while.)

The IE folks really want you to throw away your scale. Not going to happen. Not when I've got 25 years worth of daily data to look at! But my scale is wifi connected - every time I step on the scale it stores the data on the web. I covered up the number display with a post-it note, and I would go a while -weeks - before looking at the numbers to see where I am. That's how I know that I gained 15 pounds. I didn't look at the numbers often, but I was aware I was gaining. I just didn't care. Much. I cared (and still care) much more about clothes, those that grew tight and then stopped fitting at all. Sigh. Some of that is comfort, and some of it is looks. And some of it is being cheap and not wanting to buy new things when I liked the old clothes. I took the cover off my weight display and watched it every morning for a while, and then I decided I prefer to cover it up and instead think about my weight when I want to think about it, not routinely first thing every morning.  But I like knowing the data is there when I want to look at it.

The folks in the IE forum constantly remind us that IE is not the "hunger / fullness" diet. Too bad. I think understanding and acting on hunger and fullness are critical for me to be the healthiest I can be. I've been pretty internal lately about why I'm eating what I'm eating, when I eat it. I still have to fight the urge to always clean my plate, and I’m avoiding that issue by dishing out smaller portions with full understanding I’ll go get more if I feel like it. Sometimes I do, often I don’t.

One thing the IE folks get right is that it is OK to eat to soothe yourself. Feeling your emotions fully is important, but it's also ok to soothe yourself with comfort foods. And to avoid feeling deprived, to avoid the boomerang effect, go ahead and eat those things you are obsessing over. The basic premise, that eating Cheetos for dinner one night isn’t going to kill you and you shouldn’t feel pangs of guilt over it, is absolutely true. But Cheetos are a food that is specifically engineered to overcome the body’s wisdom (ie intuition) and so if they are a regular part of the meal rotation, simply tuning into your body to see if you want them is not going to give a good answer. It was in this Cheetos discussion that I decided I had to part company with the IE folks who keep saying all foods are equally good. No foods are inherently bad, but that doesn’t make them equal.

A word about sweets, candy, cookies, cakes. After I eat dinner, I want something sweet. There are some things that most days I can (and do) eat just a bit of and be done- Dove dark chocolates, Gin-gin ginger candies. Other things, cookies and cakes and ice cream, I’m going to want to eat a lot of. So I’m not banning anything, but for the time being I’m less likely to buy those other things and bring them home. I’ve found it relatively easy to pass them up at the store, or even in an unopened box at home. If I want them, I’ll eat them and that’s that. But I don’t want to munch casually and mindlessly, so I’ll make it just a bit more difficult to get them. If I could buy just a quarter cup of Jeni’s splendid double dark chocolate ice cream, I would, but sadly it comes in pints and I’m not tuned in enough to stop at a single small scoop from the larger container. Most days, anyway.

So that’s where I am. I am going to try to lose weight, by modifying what and how much I eat, though not drastically and not obsessively. And the focus on physical activity and trying to get strong remains more important to me than the weight.

Big Feet

I did another Marie Kondo event, this time on my shoes. It was partly prompted by buying new hiking boots. The ones I had worked ok, except after a couple of hours my feet hurt in them. I was nervous about buying new boots because you can't tell about that "after a couple of hours" in a shoe store, much less on line. So I went to REI and got measured. I was shocked to hear the sales guy recommending a full size up in length from what I thought I needed! (BTW, new hiking boots working great, have worn for hours and miles. Still glad to take them off afterwards, but no pain.)

It was also partly prompted by what I went through getting shoes for the fancy wedding I went to this summer. I don't wear heels, and I won't, but I did feel the need to make an effort in the flats. I realized NOTHING I had in my closet would work for several hours mostly on my feet in a dress, so I mail ordered three pairs of sort-of-fancy but flat and wide shoes, and ending up keeping two pairs. I may have been the only woman at the wedding that never changed her shoes on board. How crazy is it that women can't have shoes that both feel good and make us happy that they look good? I find the tradeoff unacceptable, and I refuse to compromise on a basic level of comfort. [End of Shoe Rant]

Since I retired, I haven't needed to dress up hardly at all. I just wear my sneakers or sandals almost everywhere. That doubled down with the pandemic, where many days I never ventured farther than around-the-block with the dog, and flip flops or slippers actually sufficed. So maybe the lack of structured shoes led to my feet spreading out in all directions? Also, I've gained weight, and perhaps that has had an affect. And, I have a huge bunion on my right foot, making it quite misshapen, distorting all the toes on that foot. I recently regarded my left foot, and noted how attractive it is, just a normal foot with straight toes. Maybe some day I'll consult a doctor about the right foot distortion, but for now, if my shoes fit, my foot doesn't hurt, so why pursue a medical surgical solution?  It just makes it harder to get shoes that fit.

So I retrieved all my shoes from three different spots in the house, and laid them all out. The picture shows just leather shoes, "work shoes". I had different arrays of sneakers and sandals. First went away any too worn, or that I never liked anyway. Then I tried on some favorites, and was distressed that some of the ones I liked a lot really didn't fit. So I finally got down to a much smaller shoe collection. In fact, I may end up buying some shoes to fill holes in the uses. I remain on a search for casual shoes as comfortable as sneakers but that look nicer. Obviously, I will size up any new shoes I buy.

When I retired, I decided all my work clothes would stay in my closet for at least a year, until I saw what my life was going to be like. Again, the pandemic changed all that, and so I have literally a closet full of clothes where I haven't touched maybe 90% of them since 2019. I'll get around to them, probably this winter as I move more activities inside. But next up on the clothes pruning list is hats, gloves, and scarves. I've spread the storage over two different places, (plus pockets of coats) and it's time to consolidate and prune. I got through last winter without having to buy new gloves, hooray! I was pretty sure I own a warm wool beanie from Norway, so I didn't buy another for myself from the constant opportunities to shop in Iceland, but now I can't find the one I'm looking for. Time to dig deeper.

Fat

I started this post several days ago, and abandoned it after a while. It had nothing new to say about what to do with the fact I am fat. If I don't want to be fat, I should eat less and move more. Specifically, I should have better portion control at meals, eat more vegetables, and fewer sweets, especially at night. And if I was an Intuitive Eating success story, all of the above would come naturally. But while of course I'm not happy with how I look and feel, I am not willing to make a stringent commitment to do something about it. So I'm muddling along, making changes at the margin some days, other days, not so much.

I was going to delete the partial post below, but I think the emotion expressed is true, and I want to capture it, for myself.

 

I am fat. I weigh more than I have in 25 years, and it isn't all muscle. I am fat. My clothes do not fit well. My stomach gets in the way of certain exercises or stretches. These are facts, not feelings.

I don't like the way my body looks and feels. I am ambivalent about what and how I have been eating. These are feelings, not facts.

Fuck you, intuitive eating! You have screwed up how I think and feel and act around food. Before I read the book, I would have said I only needed to modify two main things in my diet: better portion control at every meal but especially at night, and better control of night time sweets. Now, I think I'm in much more disordered eating, because IE advocates eating whatever you want whenever you want. The subtlety of IE comes in the word "want" - getting that right - but I'm not sure I'm ever going to get there. And I'm also not willing right now to go back to the more structured eating I was doing before. So I'm stuck, and not happy about it. But it's all within my control. I just want to let go and not have to be in control. Ugh.

Guinea Pig

 I decided to dedicate my brain to science. Why wait until I’m dead?

Actually, I have applied several times to be included in various medical studies and trials. As the National Institutes of Health are nearby, there are bunches of trials around. I was turned down for an early Covid vaccine trial, due to my migraines. The migraines have knocked me out of several trials.

A year or more ago I applied for a study on the effect of exercise on memory being done at the University of Maryland. I was disqualified because I was already an active exerciser - they were looking for sedentary old people who would start an exercise program. They would be studied longitudinally, for at least six months. 

I was contacted again by the same folks this February, where they were conducting a related study, looking at short-term effects of exercise on memory. For this, they needed old people who had a basic fitness level, so we wouldn’t drop dead exercising for the experiment. I was excited to be included this time! There was no compensation for participating, but also no expense. Three visits to the nearby University of Maryland campus, at least two hours each. 

It was an interesting experience. I had to be cleared by my primary care physician for exercise, and by my dentist for the MRI machine - to verify I didn’t have any big metal things in my mouth. The first visit was to get a baseline of both my fitness and cognitive level. I was met at the door by a personable young man, Dan, who was in charge of this experiment for his doctoral research. I was led into the basement of the School of Public Health, into a bleak cinder block and linoleum room with just a Formica table and a couple of plastic chairs, where I signed a whole bunch of releases. I was run through a number of standard memory and cognitive tests: “remember these five words” and “draw a clock face and put the hands at ten minutes past eleven” and “name as many words starting with “F” as you can in two minutes”. I don’t have a great memory, but I’ve done these tests before. I knew it was just to establish a general baseline to qualify for the real test - make sure I wasn’t impaired - but of course I really put a lot into it, wanting to do well. Then, we went down the hall to an exercise lab. They strapped a mask on my face, a heart rate strap around my chest, and put me on an exercise bike. I had to pedal until my heart rate reached 85% of my predicted maximum, to get a “VO2 Max”, used as a proxy for overall fitness. Again, they were only interested in establishing a general category of “fit enough”, but of course I asked to see my numbers and figure out what they meant. (Dan told me I was “toward the top” of his test subjects, but I was then disappointed when I got home and did more research to realize the number put me in the “average” category for my age and sex. I want to be above average, of course!)

The next two visits were to involve a lot of time having my brain scanned in an MRI, while performing a cognitive task and also scanning before and after and the task, while simply lying there in the tube. The difference between the two visits was that one time I would first pedal on an exercise bike for 30 minutes, and the other time while sitting still for 30 minutes, before going into the tube. The MRI was in a different building on the edge of campus, adjacent to  a veterinary facility, betraying U of Md’s land grant college roots. The MRI is a scarce resource - Dan told me several times that it was costing nearly a thousand dollars an hour, so he was excited to have a grant big enough to handle 40 people with two scans each. But also, the scheduling had to be exact, with no wasted time. They have sorted through a lot of test subjects that can’t do the long MRIs, either because of metal in their body or inability to tolerate the confined and noisy space. So Dan was very pleased that I was able to do this. There were a long list of requirements for clothing - besides the obvious of no underwire bra, but apparently a lot of exercise leggings that are shiny have metal in them. So cotton sweats and tees are the preferred attire, unless you are willing to be put in scrubs or a hospital gown. Even some tattoos are problematic for MRIs. Who knew?

The first day, I found the test site, arriving early, just as Dan was also pulling up in his car so he could lead me in. MRI machines are often below ground, always shielded from outside interference, so of course there was no cell or internet reception there. The building seemed empty except for us - me, Dan, another grad student assistant, and the MRI operator. I was the second subject of the day, starting at 10 am. That first day, I sat and pedaled on an exercise bike, in an empty cinder block room with no music or entertainment and my seat got sore - I haven’t been biking in a couple of years. Every five minutes they took my heart rate and asked me for my relative exertion level. After my exercise, I went into the control room for the MRI, where I was stripped of my watch and glasses and shoes, and then the MRI operator wanded me down with a metal detector, like a TSA agent. I was insulated with ear plugs and pads, effectively rendering me deaf. We went into the room with the MRI itself, where I lay down on the pad and had my head caged in and a display fastened on top. I was handed a small keypad with three buttons to use with my right hand for the task, and a bulb to squeeze in case of emergency, and a finger tip heart rate monitor anchored my left hand. I was slid into the tube, and they communicated with me by typing messages that appeared on a display above me. After a moment, they started with the scans. Each was announced with a typed message, like "this first scan will be 20 seconds. Are you ready?"  It took me a beat to realize there was a microphone in there, so while I couldn't hear them, they could hear me if I talked, and they needed to hear me agree each time.

I recall some previous MRI scans as being mechanically noisy, with whirring and banging. These scans were all noisy, but in a more electronic way, beeping and booping and squealing. I couldn't really assess how time was passing, except by what they typed about how long each scan would be. There were some shortish scans, and then I did my "task". They showed me a series of pictures, and I had to push a button indicating whether the picture was new, a repeat of one previous, or similar to one previous. The "new" versus "similar" was nuanced and a bit difficult. I'm not sure how long each trial was - five or ten minutes? - and there were two different trials.Of course I worked really hard to get them right. And then after the trials more scans, some really lengthy, with at least four that were eight minutes a pop. During each scan I made an effort to be truly motionless, and in between I could flex my fingers and squeeze my muscles a bit, but all told it was 75 minutes in the tube. After my task was complete, I relaxed and just drifted while they continued to scan. And each scan had its own song, either high pitched or low, steady or syncopated rhythms, monotone or two or three notes. Finally, they told me we were done and slid me out, uncaged my head, and I got to sit up. I was stiff from staying still all that time.

The second day was just like the first, except instead of peddling on the bike, I sat on it for 30 minutes. My seat got sore again! And they took my heart rate and my perceived exertion every five minutes. They strove to make the session as similar to the first as possible, except for the actual exercise part.

The scan was long and tedious again, except for the tasks. I had been feeling sluggish all morning, and I know I didn't do as well on the tasks - I was conscious of mistakes right after I made them. I don't know if the difference was at all due to the exercise, but I'm sure they'll be able to see a difference. After my tasks, I was nearly able to fall asleep inside the machine, despite the beeps and boops, but I thought actually going to sleep would be a bad thing for what my brain looked like, so instead I mentally sorted through my mess of tools in the basement, trying to come up with a better way of storing things so I can find them again.

So I did my bit for science. I am on a list of potential test subjects for future tests as well - they are always looking for guinea pigs, and apparently I was a good one for them.

Back to My Roots

 I decided it was time to go back to where I started on this blog - how am I doing on weight and fitness?

I've not been happy with either, lately, and I decided it was time to get into gear. As is my wont, I like to study the situation before taking action. Or if not before doing anything, at least as a motivating device while I'm doing it. We know it takes some sustained attention and effort to actually move the needle on either fitness or weight. It feels like the older I get, the more it takes.

I really got motivated when I looked at the graph of my steps. My daily steps have been going down. As with all numbers, it's important to look at them in context. After trying a couple of different ways of looking at it, I decided the time period of 2018 to the present makes sense. I retired partway through 2019, and shortly afterwards my mother died. So 2018 was a full year of office work, 2019 was full of disruptions, and last year was, well, it was 2020 and we all know what that means (amirite)! I think it's useful to anchor this look in the working world, and look at how things have changed as I figure out this retirement thing.

This is the picture that grabbed my attention. I seem to have been in decline more or less steadily since a rally last summer. This, of everything I track, is the most controllable thing. I can fix this. I need to fix this!

Total calories burned is a similar outlook to steps. I show both, because if I'm doing a lot of work that doesn't involve steps - like gardening - it shows up in the calories.

This calorie graph also shows that last summer's rally for steps didn't translate into total calories - so I guess I was walking more than I was working. Huh. Need to think about that.

Of course, I care a lot about my weight. It is something of a fitness indicator, just on its own. But I also care about how I look, and weight is bound up into that.

The two red dots show my retirement date and the day my mother died, respectively

Covering the same timeframe as the other graphs, this is not a great picture. But it could be worse. It's not all just going up. I made a little progress last year, and then lost some of it, and I've been holding my own this year. Can I actually reverse it?

For the ultimate in context, and to reassure myself that weight loss is, in fact, possible, despite current common wisdom to the contrary, I show you my weight since the beginning of time (that would be 1988, the first time I went to Weight Watchers).

I find this picture very reassuring. It tells me that my weight loss efforts have not be in vain. I was at my peak weight in the few years around my fortieth birthday, and all the years since then have benefited from being fitter and slimmer. Around age 55 is the second big loss (also the start of this blog). It shows that even now, as I feel fat and feeble, I weigh less than I did when I made the second effort.

This picture also clues me in on how unrealistic my "target weight" (represented by the blue line) has been. I hit that weight briefly twice, showing it was physically possible. But the orange horizontal line is where I settled for a while. I wasn't satisfied with being there - especially at the upper end of the range through which I was oscillating. Somewhere between those two lines would be ideal, I think. I would feel and look the way I want to feel and look.

I've also got my broader range of measures, the Report Card, cooking. I'll post when I'm ready for that.

Mask Crafts

I've spent quite a bit of time on designing and sewing masks. I've been through several different designs, surfed around on the 'net, watched a bunch of youtube videos, ventured onto pinterest.

The first masks I made back in April were being done when supplies were not widely available, and a general call came out from some hospitals asking for masks. I ransacked my house. I hauled out my old sewing machine (bought in 1981) and I found some elastic and threads. I had some bits and pieces of fabrics from projects planned and never done. I also looked in my clothes closet and linen closet, finding cotton clothes and old pillow cases that could go into masks.A very basic rectangular design, with two layers of cotton, 2-3 folds and ear loops were the basic starting point. The first one took a few hours, subsequent ones came more quickly. I supplied three each to my local family members. 

Too matchy-matchy?
But an excellent all-day fit

Then I started wearing the masks. More and more evidence indicated they were a good thing, with more suggestions on the best materials. I realized the masks I had made first had some flaws. As a wearer of glasses, often during masked walks my glasses were steamy. I had a few occasions when I had to wear the mask along with my hearing aids, and ear loops were no good. I noted comments on TLo about how one should up their mask game for fashion purposes. I also found I liked sewing them. Making the masks became a creative outlet, requiring engineering skills and allowing some artistic license. 

I bought a new sewing machine (after forty years, what the heck). I have serious sewing friends who have very expensive machines, but when I went online I found new, apparently adequate, machines from brands I never heard of for even less than $100. The top-rated one at Wirecutter was sold out everywhere (hello, apocalypse thinking), but I got an "also good" Singer heavy duty. It doesn't squeal when the wheels go round, but otherwise seems the equivalent of my old machine.

White hair and black mask
But a good fit

So here are attributes of a well-designed mask: the fit from the bridge of your nose to under your chin is important. (My family varies from 4.75" to 5.75" in that measurement.) It is helpful, especially for glasses, to have a shaper over the nose, bending the mask to follow the face's contour. I worked with some pipe cleaners I had in the house, but then bought purpose-made metal strips on-line. It's important to have fabric layers as padding under the metal strips. It's good to have some space between your mouth and the mask, which requires some structure to be built in (the rectangular masks do not do that well). If the side of the mask is done as a sheath, the ties or elastic aren't sewn in but instead threaded - they can be replaced easily - and so a mask can convert from ear loops to behind your head fastenings. Two layers is good, and the inner layer should be soft. Three layers is better, but you don't want a big bump of fabric seams piling up on top of your nose, especially if you wear glasses. Cotton is universal, but a silk lining helps with comfort, facilitating breathing while still efficiently trapping particles (and adding warmth when outdoors). A lazy, quick mask can be made out of tshirts by just cutting ear loops right into the mask itself.

So now I pick up pieces of fabric, stack them double or triple, and first look at a light bulb through the stack. If I can see the outline clearly, it's a no-go. Then, I hold the stack over my nose and mouth and try nose breathing through it. If that works, I'm in business! I'm venturing into new pieces of fabric, aiming at fashion now that I have the basics of structural design down. I have a feeling we'll be wearing them for a while now.

Style Icons

Looking at my clothes, trying to decide what to do with them, made me muse a bit on what I own and how I want to be seen in the world. My entry into the working world was coincident with the era of skirted (but man-tailored) suits. I had shirts from Brooks Brothers, and little silk floppy bow ties. I was happy to have a uniform. As I grew more confident at work, I finally evolved to slacks, a blazer, and a T, or rarely, a tailored shirt. Imagine my delight to find Samantha Bee create a name for herself in exactly the style I wanted! At last!  A role model of a woman whose work and look, both, I admired!

 But, since I was roughly twelve years old, there is a style I adopted and wore as much as I could, when not at work.  But, not until very recently did I ever see someone representing the way I choose to look. But, finally I did. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Stevie Budd!

The plaid shirt, tee, jeans, and sneakers is me. Though lately, more likely yoga pants than jeans.

(Except for the hair on both. I'm a short-hair girl for life, since I got my ponytail cut off right after my high school yearbook picture was taken.)

My Hair

The day I did it

Like many people, my hair hasn’t seen professional treatment since early March. I’ve always wanted purple hair, and this seemed like the time if ever there was one.

But I was frustrated! I had never colored my own hair, but watching the process by my girl since her middle school days had not made me think it was going to be easy. Ads for Overtone followed me around the internet, and by their ads they had a single, conditioner-based process that was easy and that washed out eventually. As I’m always afraid of commitment it seemed the way to go, but they were sold out of deep, dark, purple. The last thing I wanted was a light, pastel, lavender or pink - not my style. In fact, I’m not very pink at all, and I was afraid any purple might turn pink.

So I ended up with orange. The label said “ginger”, and it’s not a totally unbelievable color for hair to be. I did it two weeks ago now, and it’s already faded to a fairly realistic color.

Before

It was, as advertised, fairly easy. I remembered at the last minute to take a “before” picture, and I took a “during” picture for my own amusement. I managed to contain the mess and I don’t think I stained anything very noticeable.

During

Now, just two weeks later, it’s fading and roots are again visible. I don’t think they are what has grown in just two weeks, but as the color fades the underlying hair color shows through, so my totally white roots show lighter.  I have enough for another round. I’m going to hold off, though, to see when the county decides to open up the salons.

Today, two weeks after

Me, Most Mornings

Here is where I start almost every day, with coffee and the ipad. Ranges from twenty minutes to two hours, with breaks for more coffee and to tend to the dog, who is at my feet but waiting to go out.

My Weight in the Last Year

I commented briefly that my weight in the last year was a total disaster. While I ended the year much heavier than I started it, there were in fact seasons to how it went. I find that interesting, and useful feedback on what “works” and what doesn’t. Here is a 12-month picture:

So I gained more than 8 pounds over the course of the year, but not in a steady line. While I was working, I was in a state of heightened tension and deferring any weight control till I had time. The summer, as you blog readers know, I was focused on myself, both eating and physical activity, and was doing pretty well. Things basically went to hell after my mother died in September - I was totally in a “eating is the least of my issues” state of mind. I did try to tamp things down, but the holidays got to me. Now, I’m back to thinking very mindfully about what I am eating and it is starting to have an effect.

Weight is only one small aspect of my well being, but it’s not nothing. In particular, it has a big impact on what clothes fit, and thus how I feel when I go out in the world. So understanding that my efforts last summer were not in vain is helpful. And weight is most impacted by what I eat, not what else I do. So, mindfully paying attention is important to managing this.

I want to mention that posting weight graphs nearly always happens only after some short-term success at losing, so almost every graph I’ve posted on this blog has a recent downward trend. I look all the time, but I don’t always share.

(This graph is from trendweight.com, which I have been using for quite a while. Since I have a wifi scale that sends the weight to a database in the cloud automatically, this site reads the data and plots it. It also does a trend, based on an engineering algorithm to separate “signal” from “noise” - it looks at weight over a period of time, with the most recent data carrying more weight (he he) in the formula.)

Moving

(New but cheap) dress and leggings and short boots.

My pants don't fit!  I mentioned that before, but it's really a thing. I told everyone at work I made a resolution to wear more dresses (HA!). I had to break my no-spending vow to buy some clothes - I went on the internet, scored big with sales, but NONE OF THEM FIT ME! I've grown more than I realized, and it's not my swollen knee. I returned them, and tried again at another site in a bigger (gasp) size. Due here Thursday. Till then, dresses or yoga pants. It's cold out, so I'm experimenting with leggings and boots.

It's driving me nuts not to know what's happening on the scale. I'm focusing on how I feel and how things fit. I'm moving a lot more than the past few months. I'm able to get out of the building at lunch and walk on the generally deserted mall. I've given myself a pass on walking the dog at night when it's dark, cold, and/or precipitating. (I have a large fenced yard for his basic hygiene.) "Move" to me means to keep moving as much as possible in every possible way (including chores such as bill-paying) but it also means literally, My fitbit tracks how many hours I get at least 250 steps in an hour, and I've been doing much better during this shutdown. The pace of work is totally different - few meetings, phone calls, or emails - but each is complex and multi-faceted as we move into uncharted territory for the government. But I have to be much more self-disciplined on how to spend my time because there are few immediate deadlines and always other considerations. So I walk more in the building, and it helps me think.

I know that exercise is not the way to lose weight, and yet it's key to losing weight. I'm trying hard to feel what I eat, feel what I'm hungry for, and go all in on mindfulness. I am tracking what I eat - daily - but not in any cumbersome tracking system, just mentally tallying it a few times a day, and always in the context of whether it's satisfying and if I need or want something else. So no vows of what not to eat, but thoughtful decisions in the moment. All in my ideal. And without daily feedback on whether the approach is having an effect on the number on the scale, I have to get feedback from how I feel.

I think exercise will be helpful in getting my pants back on. I'm thinking toning, building muscle, not weightloss. So MOVE remains my motto.

Work Prom

In Washington, often an interest group will throw a gala event at about this time of year, bringing together government and industry to put on their best duds and give someone a prize. My industry is no exception. It has become customary to refer to these events as "the prom" - just this week, NPR did a thing on the "tax prom".

So I'm going to the prom!  I will be able to go with a colleague whose wife hates these events, which also relieves me from getting a date. This is full-up black tie, and so I need a dress and associated bling. I last went to this nearly a decade ago, so I did some snooping on facebook and yes, folks still go for the glamour. They even have a red carpet photo op spot (though not so many people do this).  In the few pix from the last few years, dresses were long, short, or in between, and overwhelmingly black. If not black, red, and a very few royal blues. Solid colors all, in the photos I saw.

When I decided to go, I thought I had the perfect dress hanging in the back of my closet. Sadly, when I went to try it on, it was just the tiniest bit too tight in my fattest part, my hips. I haven't given up on it yet - super-squeezing shapewear is winging its way to me. Can I wear it, and will it be sufficiently comfortable?  It really is perfect: black velvet, with rivers of shorn pile running vertically in curves. In the rivers, the burgundy lining shows, giving it a reddish shimmer. Knee length, sleeveless sheath.

I have a backup dress, not nearly as glamorous. It is stretchy polyester, patterned blues, and way too long. Except the for the length, it looks really good on me, ruched to show off my best feature, an actual waist. It's not my first choice for this event, but it'll do if the length is right. And if the length is right, I might wear it more often at other events of lesser glam. So it is being shortened.

If I have learned one thing from Tom and Lorenzo, it's that the accessories can make the outfit. I have a cut velvet shawl, and a small black beaded clutch purse, which will work for either dress. But shoes? Jewelry?

I used to dutifully change my shoes every day at the office after riding the metro in, until finally I decided this was nuts. I should wear shoes I can walk in, all day, every day. I kept a pair of heels in the office, in case I ever got a chance to meet the President.  Then I did meet the President, and didn't wear the heels.  So out to the trash every pair of heels went. And it was President (Bill) Clinton, so it was a while ago!  Mostly I wear trousers to work, and with them oxfords, or lately ankle boots. With dresses, it's mostly mary janes or sandals in the summer, as ballets don't work well with my bunion.

But I went out with my girl today, and got a pair of kitten heels, in black suede.  I don't know how long I'll be able to stand them - I'm going to practice around the house!  And sheer black hose.

We also got make-up - something else I gave up around the turn of the century. Another thing I need to practice. Mascara, eye liner, base, and lipstick. Maybe this is too much.

So the big dress decision will be Wednesday night. The event is Friday, and I'll probably have to change at work and go there directly, so really minimal primping with makeup and hair. Jewelry is still in progress, and will get its own post.

My Looks

Let's face it, I care what I look like. All this talk about health, and doing stuff, and feeling good, is true, but I want to look good.  Because I like data, and I try to be objective, I have been doing a fair number of selfies, and looking at them for clues how to look better. Here is what I look (and looked) like this year:

I have had a hard time getting this video to play, so here is a link as well.

My analysis:  posture and smiling are more important than what I'm wearing, except for when I dressed up for a cold long scooter trip and ended up looking like a cross between the Michelin Man and an astronaut - nothing could save that look!

Just FYI, my niece uses this app, "1 Second Everyday" with videos of her kids - really fun! I may try to remember to do this during my next vacation as well.  It can also be used with still pictures, which is mostly what this is. Since I took all these pictures on my phone, and haven't deleted them yet, I was able to put this together during a too-long wait in a doctor's office this week.

How vain of me is it that not only do I have a big mirror in my bedroom, but I put in a new light so I can take these pictures better?

NOT Fat????!!!

I did a big push on losing weight starting in late January. Since then, I've had some bobbles up and down, but the trend has been down.  I'm not at my goal, but I've also decided not to focus on that goal for a while.  In the meantime, I am, for the first time in 15 years, at a Body Mass Index that says I am in the "normal" weight category.  This after decades of bouncing between "obese" and "overweight".  Yes, it's just a shade over the line. But over it is.

The ups and downs of my weight, since 1988. The horizontal gridlines are 10 pounds apart, and the highest to lowest weight are 50 pounds apart.

Does this mean I'm not fat?  I mean, if I'm not a fat person, then what am I?  My identity has been tied up in being a fat person my whole life. I was a fat kid. I remember looking at a camp form the summer I was 12, and to the question "Obese?" the doctor had written "borderline".  The earliest weights on this graph, in 1988, are from my Weight Watcher's book I found.  Obviously I joined because I was fat and wanted to lose weight - why else?

First world problems, folks. I'm not complaining about my weight, not by any means. In fact, while there is still plenty to criticize about my looks, in general I'm very happy with my body right now. While my top and bottom are still about size apart, buying clothes is much easier now than before. But the first time I realized the BMI number meant I was "normal", it was jarring, disorienting.  What does this mean for who I am?

I'm still five pounds above the "ideal weight" I've had in my mind since before those early Weight Watcher days, so I'm still someone who aspires to lose weight. But why? At this point, I don't believe five pounds makes an iota of difference to my health.  My legs are still fat, and I think I'll look a little better when I go down a little bit more.  But it won't be way better, because even though I'm building muscle, I'll still have sagging, older skin, no matter what I weigh. Not enough loose skin to be surgically removed, but enough to show.  So I'm doing it purely for looks, not for any other grander idea. But it won't suddenly transform me into Helen Mirren, not by a long shot.

Because it is currently fruit, sweet corn, ice cream, and beer season, I have moderated my Atkins diet significantly. My intent is to maintain for about another month, and then blitz the last five pounds.  If I can convince my body it likes this current weight, compared to the 10-pounds higher I was for the last few years, I'm pretty confident my blitz will work. To some extent, I'm doing it to see if I can. And if I can, I'd like to stay there.

This year's weight loss. The blip up in June was the San Francisco trip. On this chart, the horizontal lines are two pounds apart, so you can see I've bounced within a two pound range since July.

But why? What does it mean to be "normal"?  We all know I will never be able to just eat what I want and lie around as much as I want, so I'll always be paying attention (or else paying the price). But when maintaining I'm able to eat a much wider variety of foods and I like that. And I like buying an ice cream cone and sitting outside to eat it without thinking how everyone passing by is criticizing me in their mind, "no wonder she's fat".  I like the way I look in many of my clothes. When I walk into a room of people I don't know, I like that I no longer assume the first thing they think is "oh, she's fat".

I'm working out often and vigorously now.  I think I'm a project for my trainer - she has let me know I'm the oldest person she has trained, and she is experimenting with how hard she can push me. I am also running (thanks to a brief break in the weather) and systematically pushing to go further and faster.  I am filled with aches and pains, but I am overall healthy and quite possibly stronger than I was twenty years ago.   Forty years of hypochondria, and I always think I'm coming down with something. But the number of times I've gone to the gym because I have an appointment when I considered calling in sick is equal to the number of times I felt better afterwards, minus only one time when I really was sick.

I worry now when I walk into a room of strangers they are judging me for being old, and I'm trying to own that, not deny it.  I'm trying to rock the whole "wisdom" thing. I've been there, done that, my T-shirt wore out years ago, but let me listen to what you have to say and see if I can't coach you to be more successful than me. At the same time, I watch people more closely than I ever have, trying to figure out what I want to be like, because I'm not done changing yet.  I consciously try to walk more briskly, with a spring in my step, instead of the saunter or plod that was my more normal mode of moving through the world.  I'm listening more, and trying to talk less.  But I'm nowhere near ready to go all white in the hairs, no matter how much I try to own my age.  Every five weeks, Paul fixes me up.

I know how very fragile my new found strength and body confidence are.  All it will take is an injury, or a melt-down from a certain adolescent, or a change in my work circumstances, and I could shoot right back up to the top of the curve.  But I'm enjoying this now while I can, and trying to capture what allows me to be here.

Closet Makeover Part 2: The Reaping

I thought I had been through all of my clothes last year, but actually I got pretty tired before I got to the back of the closet, and there was a bunch of stuff I just hung onto for no particular reason. Plus, there was stuff in the guest room closet I had totally forgotten about.  Now, I've been quite rigorous on the hanging clothes for my spanking new closet.

My hanging clothes are for work and the rare festive event. (My play clothes are folded in drawers.) What I wear to work each day is tailored pants, a knit top, and a blazer or sweater. Sometimes a men's style shirt. I wear a necklace every day or (rarely) a scarf, and a lapel pin on the blazer. I swore off heels more than a decade ago, though I left a pair of pumps in my desk in case I ever got to meet the president. Then I did actually meet the president, and I didn't wear the pumps, so that is that for heels forever for me. In summer, women in DC do not wear hose, and this summer especially I wore dresses with bare legs fairly often, with sandals when my toes are painted and ballets when not.  Now I have a pair of boots so I can continue to wear the longer dresses without needing hose. I do, however, wear "shapewear" under my dress.

I find I make the same fashion mistakes over and over.  I have bought not one, not two, no, even more, FIVE long cardigan sweater/jackets. The ones that hang down to mid-thigh.  It turns out, they make me look like a huge knit pear, totally accentuating my hips and rear end.  So I wear the sweater once, am uncomfortable whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I put it in the back of the closet, and forget I have it. They look so good in the catalogs!  But I think I've finally learned my lesson. I've put all of them in the box to give away.

When I find something I like at a nice price, I go to town on it. I've got a dozen silk knit tops from Jones NY, mostly in shades of taupe, grey and black. They come back from the dry cleaner on hangers, but I'm going to put them folded on a shelf or in a drawer, now, I think. The better to see them each day. I am out of the dry cleaner habit, and I've also got an extensive collection of cotton tees. But frankly, the cotton ones are old, they really ought to be ironed but I don't iron them, so I think I may try to wear the silk ones more often, as an alternative to buying a bunch of new cotton ones, which would still need ironing. When I get to organizing the drawers I should just dispose of the older tees.  (I did get rid of a bunch of them in last year's purge, but that was a while ago now and they are looking more worn all the time.)

I used to wear a cotton men's style shirt most days. I had them laundered (light starch, hangers) and liked the way they looked. Now, going through them, they seem huge. Not that I've gotten smaller, but current styles are more form fitting. I think most of my clothes are timeless classics, and yet there is that indefinable air of the width of the collar, the shaping of darts, that make things out of date. I've kept a couple of the old, big, shirts to wear as over-shirts for more casual events - no starch, but ironed. My new shirts are more slim-fitting, and are truly wrinkle-free from the dryer (as long as I hang them while still warm).

Blazers and pants get into winter and summer issues. When I assembled my trousers, I had twenty pair of wool slacks! Some of them are a decade or more old - from previous times I've been near this weight. After trying them all on, it was only down to 15 pair. With the couple of pounds I've added back, some that I thought would be big are somewhat more comfortable than a couple of pair that are very slightly too tight. I'm keeping the small ones, but I put them in the back. It's still more pants than I need, but I can't quite make myself get rid of any more, at least not yet. When I sorted by color, I have a bunch of very dark navy (I had to take them outside to natural light to be sure and I wrote on their labels with a laundry marker), a bunch of grey and tweed, but no pair of actual black pants (the only black ones I have are polyester summer weight). The problem is I have six good quality blazers that work with black, and only one of them will work with navy (all but one will work with grey). I've also got some browns in the pants, and couple of blazers that work with them, one a tweedy brown and one sage green. I've got several fancy sweaters with sage green in them that also work with the earth toned pants.

I don't wear skirts, but I have more than half dozen of them, from probably a decade ago. They are all fairly similar -lots of navy, mostly rayon - and they would work well in the summer. But how many skirts looking very similar do I need? Not that many.  Especially not when I wore none last summer.

So basically, I own too many clothes but not all the right ones. How could I possibly buy another pair of wool trousers, just so I have a black pair? How can I go buy a blue-toned blazer when I've got more than enough jackets in the closet already?  Now that I've got all this stuff assembled, sorted, and out where I can see it, I think I should work with it for a while before making any more moves. No buying (yay, my wallet) and no more getting rid of something that fits, not until I've tried wearing it first.

Plus, I might lose those 15 pounds and need all new pants! (It could happen.)

Good Enough?

So is WW working?

I have stabilized my weight back where I was before vacation, and the weekly averages are trending every so slowly down.  But I'm right at this same plateau I was on since February.  Clearly my body likes being this weight. That probably worked to my advantage during vacation, and just as homeostasis keeps me from losing weight, it worked to keep me from gaining much.

Is this weight "good enough"? I've written about how its less than I weighed for sixteen of the years since I turned 35.  But I really don't think it's "good enough". And let's not be too righteous about my goals:  this is now much more about how I look than about being healthy and strong. I am healthy and strong now, though I was not when I started this a year and a half ago.

So if I actually want to lose weight, I can't settle in to a comfortable, treat-allowing, long-term way of eating. I've got to do something radical to de-stabilize the homeostasis that has kept me hear since February. I'll up the activity, clearly. But I've got to dramatically restrict my eating. I think I have two choices:  Atkins, or cabbage and fruit.  Either will work. Either will be "real weight loss". Both are hard to stick to for any length of time. But I've got the next two weeks to focus, with a limited social life, lots of work to do at work, and plenty of chores at night.  After a two-week blitz, I'll revert to more normal weight watchers.

Given the time of year, I pick cabbage and fruit. On this way of eating, no breads or grains, but the emphasis is on vegetables and fruit, low fat, not much lean meat, any fresh fruit I want (except bananas which I don't really like anyway). If I were doing Atkins, the emphasis would be on meat with few vegetables and no fruit. I actually made cole slaw last week from a cabbage I got that day at farmer's market, and it astounded me how good it was - that fresh cabbage was better than long-distance stored cabbage. I had not really thought about the freshness of cabbage making a difference, not like tomatoes, for example.

So I'll be off to farmer's market after the gym in a few minutes, and I intend to stock way up. And then cook. Cole slaws with vinaigrettes, cabbage soup, fruits and fresh tomatoes, a zucchini or cucumber for variety, and we'll see where we go from there.

Let's see how my resolve works in the face of ice cream and beer season. But I'm off to the beach after my two week blitz, so I'm going to try to hold out till then.

Dress for Stress

I was off to the gym dressed in sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt at 5:55 this morning when the phone rang, two layers down beneath my jacket and sweatshirt. I inappropriately started working my way through the zippers to get at it while continuing to drive. Good thing I did get it, too - it was my mother, calling from the emergency room. "I've been here all night" she announced breezily. "Didn't want to bother you until I knew something. I have blood clots in my lungs."  So a quick u-turn and I was at the hospital in six minutes. That was three minutes longer than it needed to be - I actually stopped at my house to grab my new big purse that holds everything in the world. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I knew it would be better if I were properly equipped with the right stuff.

This is a serious and life threatening condition - pulmonary embolism. But my mother felt fine except for shortness of breath, and looked and sounded like herself, not some sick person. Still on top of things enough to discuss her symptoms and treatment with the doctors herself. One doctor shared a lot of information and I took assiduous notes. I know a lot of this information will fly right out of her head as soon as she moves on - and even right out of my head too. Stress is not conducive to short term retention of vital information.

With a lull in the proceedings, I headed out to get the kid off to school and to clear the decks for the housecleaning crew. I took the time to take a shower, because I figured whatever the day held, it would be better for everybody if I wasn't stinky, and then actually spent a fair amount of extra time (at least five minutes) figuring out what I would wear. I was pretty sure I would spend the day in the hospital or with related chores, no office attire. I pulled on the size-too-big chords that were at the top of the drawer, and grabbed a knit top. But then I backed up and re-thought it.

I was raised with a "save the best for last" philosophy. In particular, save your good clothes for special occasions.  As a practical matter, that often meant never wearing them at all. I've recently and consciously changed to "wear your favorite clothes all the time". That doesn't mean fancy, just favorite. (It also means much more frequent laundry and trips to the drycleaners.) These days, I reach for my favorites first. I keep them in the top layer of the drawers and in the front of the hanging closet. I expect to start getting rid of things I never use.

Whatever the day would bring, I'd be happiest if I felt good about what I was wearing. I settled on my new Champion royal purple sports bra and dark purple-heather v-neck tee shirt in a wicking fabric for the top. Replacing the unflattering and indescribably-neutral-colored cords are my new hiking pants. Made of some miracle fabric, they have the appearance and soft hand of cotton fabric, but with a stretch and a give that makes them flattering and comfortable and even good for the gym. Low profile yet plentiful pockets add to the practicality. On my feet, my Ecco black sneakers with purple highlights.  And over my shoulder, the purse that holds everything.

Functional flattering clothing makes me feel competent. That was what I needed to face the day. Every previous encounter with health care people has left me feeling incompetent and out of control. I strutted back into the ER to find my mother charming a doctor, just three bays down from where my sister died. Together, my mother and I dealt with the ins and outs of her grave (but not immediately life-threatening) situation, asking questions and getting answers we understood. The staff there is very caring and competent, but also very busy. If you don't ask, they just move on. I've just left her for the night, and will be joining her in the morning, (for tests and more tests) appropriately attired for the stresses of the day.

Pants

It's so important to get pants that fit right. My office designated "casual Fridays" just a couple of years ago, and I decided I needed nice chinos (khakis) to set aside for that. I squeezed myself into my old ones a couple of times, but not a good idea to be popping out in the office. In fact, because of my thighs, I think they wore out on the inside seam. So I bought a new pair a year ago last December, a size bigger, from LL Bean.

I've bought from LL Bean for years. When I worked at a company that was all casual all the time, my work wardrobe consisted entirely of cotton pants and shirts from their catalogue, refreshed by mail order seasonally. Their sizing is almost always spot on. So I can track my ups and downs by what size of their stuff I wore. At my very peak of fat, back in the last century, I wore an 18 petite. This bigger size a year ago was size 16 - the first time I needed them since I gave them all away in 1999.  But the size 16s were crisp and new and really quite nice. And they came out of the dryer crisp and pleated, a more successful miracle fabric than previous attempts.

By March last year, however, they were too big. With some trepidation, I sent off for the next size down - 14 petite. They were perfect!  They also showed off my weight loss, thus far, very nicely. As the ultimate pear-shaped woman, who carries most of her weight below the waist, I really can't be seen in too-big trousers ballooning out over my already ample hips very often.

By the way, LL Bean has these pants in roughly a gazillion different very slightly different variations, with three different rises and plain versus pleated fronts and regular and elastic waists.  I must say, I really don't care for the currently fashionable lower rise. I have a very distinct waist and I like to fasten my belt around it, letting it rest above my hip bones. (My waist-to-hip ratio would signal good health, if it wasn't built on such very big hips!) And I don't think its flattering to me to cut my length (by different colors or textures) at my widest point.

Now, I am reaching the point where I am seriously thinking about going yet another size down. I'm going to hold off a couple of weeks to make sure the holiday weight is truly gone. But it's pretty exciting to me - size 12!  I haven't seen that for a few years. It'll take me a bit to work my way through the 80 gazillion choices to buy pants that look just like the ones I'm replacing, but I think it will end up making a difference in how I look. And I'll probably allow myself a bonus frivolous buy from the same catalogue as my reward.  The fleece queen may gain another prize!

What Do I Want To Look Like?

This is a tough one. I have my well-thought out reasons for why I want to lose weight and get in shape. Several of them are about my appearance - I don't want someone's first thought on meeting me to be "what a fat slob!". But what do I want to look like? I do not have a picture of myself in my head looking the way I want to look.

I've become obsessive about looking at folks on the street, trying to find someone shaped as I want to be shaped. It's not so easy.  To start with, I've realized what might be realistic for me to achieve in the way of appearance. I'll never be tall and willowy. Anyone I see with that ballet dancer silhouette is out of consideration with no more than a wistful sigh. Even if not tall, there are plenty of women that are purely thin, and that I will never be, nor do I really wish to be. I want muscles. I'm not, shall we say, bodacious on top, so busty women are not in consideration for Nan's future body double. Neither am I an apple, so those with round centers are out of the running.  And sadly, I'm not going to get younger, despite the rejuvenating powers of exercise, so the young 'uns are rejected quickly in my crowd scans.  But neither do I want to be seen as old, especially right off the bat, so those hunched and dwindling slow movers are crossed out.

That leaves me searching for middle aged, short, mildly pear-shaped (or proportional), women. moving briskly and with good posture, to be my aspirational models.  Not so many, at least in this town. But Monday, driving in, I finally saw someone and I thought, "I'd be very happy to look like that!"  It was just a brief glimpse of a woman jogger with long gray hair in a pony tail, moving in the same direction as me. I caught just a glimpse of her face in the mirror as I went past.  That's what I want - strong and sure, moving with purpose. And without the huge hips I still have.

I've wanted to have a mental picture of myself as I would want to look for a long while. I've been spending a lot of time reading other folks' blogs, and I'm struck by how often some of these weight loss masters are photographing themselves. I don't like most pictures of myself, but I need to ground my sense of what I'd like to look like in the reality of what I actually look like now.  One of my favorite bloggers, Bitch Cakes, obsessively takes pictures of herself, including one in the Grand Central Station ladies' room every single day. Another, Fat Girl vs. World, posted some awesomely honest photos of herself pointing out where she needs improvements.  So here goes:

Trying to take a photo in the mirror with the iPhone. I got some practicing to do, to figure out how to do this better. But, I got several compliments yesterday and today as I work dresses to work instead of my normal slacks and T.

Here's the thought I want to end on tonight. It's a quote from Fat Girl vs. World:

I don't think I ever want someone to see the future, skinny, healthy me walking down the street and think anything other than "Holy crap, she really puts in a lot of thought and work into keeping herself healthy."  I don't want anyone to assume that my current, work-in-progress body is a result of me being anything less than diligent. 


(read the whole post here.)