Weight for it...

Oh you knew it was coming. Of course I'm going to write about Weight Watchers! But first, a disclaimer of sorts.

A couple of weeks ago I was scrolling through facebook and happened upon a discussion taking place on a friend's page. She made a comment regarding people who posted anything weight-related, basically saying they were immediately blocked or unfollowed. Several others posted similar sentiments, some insinuating that there are more important things going on in the world and nobody wants to hear about your exercise routine. One in particular has been stuck in my head, it went something like yeah I'm over here punching Nazis, nobody cares about your run Karen.

Fair enough.

I get it. I understand, way too well, that some things can be triggering. Or just plain annoying. I also know how uncomfortable it can get when people try to sell you the latest shake or patch, or how they can appear to be so very one-dimensional based on what they choose to share via social media.

The beauty of social media vs. actual face to face conversations is that we can roll our eyes, groan, flip them off and/or click unfollow, unfriend or if you're really not feeling it, BLOCK.

That's why I don't post a lot about the weight stuff on facebook or instagram or wherever. Because while I am fascinated by the changes happening to my body and frustrated by the challenges, I know the majority of my friends/followers aren't. I also don't want anyone to think that I'm making judgment calls about ANYBODY'S body or weight. Haven't we all seen those statements from people who have found their fitness groove- "I did it with three little kids, what's your excuse?" "gosh I can't find my excuse, maybe I ate it you smug shrew."

If you've been reading this blog for a while you know that I collect struggles like some people collect agates or fridge magnets. I have a lot of them and my weight is one that has been with me a looong time.

Key word here: MY.

My weight is my issue. I'm not sitting here in judgment of anyone else. I believe, very strongly, that what we do with our bodies is our business (in every way) and unless what we're doing with our bodies has a negative impact on other people we don't get to have a say in it. At all.

I read another article, about how we need to stop complimenting people on weight loss. This one had some fair points: you never know what's behind a noticeable change in a person's weight.

If someone's weight has noticeably changed, they may be going through something that isn't fun. They may be ill, they may be under a mountain of stress, they may not know what the hell is happening and are worried about it and hearing something about their change in appearance would only compound that worry.

But many people are intentionally changing their weight. They are totally on purpose exercising more and making different choices about what they're eating. And I cannot speak for all of us who are doing these things but as far as I'm concerned YESSSS please do say something! I am busting my formidable ass and there are days it feels like nothing is working and hearing even a simple "hey looking good, friend" can give me just enough of a nudge that I do go for a walk or I don't say eff it and eat a few handfuls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

So yeah, it's for sure advisable to keep your mouth shut if you don't know for a fact that the person is intentionally making changes to their body. But to suggest that we stop complimenting people? Phooey. No. Especially when we know the person is making a herculean effort to lose weight/bulk up/tone up. I tell people all the time "hey that color is so beautiful on you!" but it doesn't mean I think they look like shit in all the other colors they wear. And if you tell someone that they are looking good now it does not mean they looked like a dumpster fire before. It just means that this version of them is also lovely.

I've also discovered that you can hate Nazis and work on your health at the same time!! Yes it is entirely possible to do many things simultaneously. Some of us in the resistance need to take little breaks now and then. I myself enjoy watching tv (omg Handmaid's Tale, and now I'm finally watching The Sopranos and of course have developed an oddball and obviously forever unrequited crush on James Gandolfini 😭), going to movies (five dollar Tuesday nights, baby!) and yes, going for a nice run or walk or lifting a bunch of weights. Making fun of someone for posting about a run or a good workout or a relaxing yoga class, implying that typing out "I had a great run today" is akin to "I'm pretty much okay with the nightmare that is happening in our country" is super insulting and also laughable. Cripes.

Okay. Rant over...here's where I'm at with the Weight Watchers. Almost 50 lbs. down (46 and some change as I type this). It feels incredible. You know what else feels incredible? MUSCLES. I've always had a big ol' butt (ass for weeeeeeeks to quote Ice Cube) and I still do but now it's less fluffy feather pillow and more memory foam. If only it had something fun to remember, right? LOL.

I have before and during pics but I'm still scared to share them on a public platform. I will share that I've gone down about 3 or 4 sizes in everything. Yes, everything. Even my glasses are too big now. The past few weekends have been spent going through closets and drawers and so far I've donated about 10 garbage bags full of clothes.

If you ever see me even considering buying another poncho sweater, please lay a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder and whisper "Jenny, no."

But what I'm really geeked out about is my resting heart rate: you guys, it's now 49 bpm. I have a physical scheduled at the end of July and I cannot wait to see the results. Even at my biggest I had remarkably good numbers, they should be crazy good now.

Oh yeah and remember how I was convinced that I have a gluten allergy? I got stomach aches and really intense heartburn after eating it? Well. Apparently it wasn't a gluten sensitivity. It was the fact that my body was sensitive to a bunch of extra weight. I haven't had heartburn in so long I can't remember the last time I dug through my purse for a Tums.

I think I mentioned that two of my friends are doing this with me...I have to give them a huge shout out: Danielle and Joyce, you two are my rocks. They have the very dubious honor of listening to me cry about bad weigh ins, fielding texts about trying to not soil my pants while running on the track at the gym and counseling me when my Pirate's Booty consumption becomes problematic (which it always is, you guys. God help me I am powerless over the booty.)

Of course, I have been down this road before. The last time my weight changed so dramatically, I had just been dumped by my husband and was desperately doing the Pick Me dance. "Maybe if I lose weight, he'll come back" was playing on a loop in my grieving mind and we all know how that ended.

It ended with me gaining all of the weight back and gaining exactly zero husband back. One of those things wasn't good. 

Since the divorce and all of the fallout that followed it, I have lived in a nauseating state of limbo- waiting for the other shoe to drop, basically, despite the fact that about fifty or so other shoes have already fallen from the sky and bounced off my head. But when you live through something like a surprise breakup followed by what can only be described as financial abuse, you develop a very unpleasant habit of living in fear.

Maybe the fat I encased myself in was a barrier of sorts; put there as a buffer between me and everything bad and scary. The problem with that is, it was also a buffer between me and other things. Things like being strong(er), being able to run and move big heavy things, being able to wear pants with zippers and being able to make eye contact with that shy weirdo who lives in my bathroom mirror.

In summary: I'm not going to bore you with an overload of weight-related posts. But if I do slip up and mention it, please know that I'm also still actively working to make this world a better and kinder place.

And if you want to give me a compliment the next time we see each other, go for it.