Wardrobe Worries

I'm in the midst of a wardrobe malfunction. All of my clothes have shrunk!

I am at the point where I either need to buy new, bigger clothes, or lose some weight. For 13 weeks I've been hobbled - six of those on crutches. I've gained 10 pounds, and one by one, I've had to abandon pair after pair of pants because they became uncomfortably tight. And I hate tight clothes. Hate. Really really.

When I found out I was going to have surgery, I went to Deseret Industries and purchased three pairs of pants that were at that time a bit too large for me, just in case this happened. It's a good thing; those pants are now the backbone of my sorry wardrobe: a pair of light grey wool slacks, a pair of blue denim jeans, and a pair of tear-away warmup pants. I try not to think about it too much. And I don't. Except for when I am getting dressed or see myself in the mirror wearing the same sorry pair of size %$&! pair of blue jeans. Again.

Now that I'm off crutches and walking better, my activity level is up a bit, but I'm not in any stretch of the imagination ready for vigorous aerobic workouts. So I guess I need to get serious about reducing my calorie intake.

I really really hate diets. Hate them. Really. I guess that's probably an obvious statement to anyone who knows me, since I'm very obviously significantly overweight. I'd like to say that four pregnancies messed up my metabolism. I'd like to blame it on my mother. But I must face the sad fact that I got overweight by overeating. I think I'm somewhat addicted to sugar.

In 2002 I weighed a bit more than I do right now. I was having knee pain (deja vu, anyone?), and went to the doctor. He diagnosed me with Patellar Tracking Syndrome or something fancy like that and sent me to see the physical therapist, who told me that the quadriceps muscles on the front of my thigh were weak, and if I would do certain exercises to strengthen them, my knee pain would go away. He was right. He also pointed out that a gym membership would cost much less per month than visiting him would. So I signed up at one of the gyms in town.

I decided that it was time to get serious, so I also bought the book "Body for Life" and launched a very strict diet program, which seemed to work quite well. For 6 days a week, I balanced my protein and carbohydrate intake, and avoided sugar, white flour, juices, and excessive fats. My diet consisted primarily of oatmeal, brown rice, whole wheat bread, cottage cheese, vegetables, fruit, and lean meats, all carefully proportioned.

The Body for Life program also had detailed exercise guidelines. Six days a week; three days weight training and three days of bust-yer-butt cardio.

From January to July of 2002, I lost 30 pounds. I felt better, I looked better. And then I got complacent. I was still 30 pounds over my ideal weight, but I was doing so well, I figured I could ease off a little. And the desserts crept back in. I maintained weight within 5 pounds for about a year. But since 2003, I've added a few pounds here and there, slowly creeping upward until I've gained more than 20 pounds back. The last 10 weeks of forced inactivity have caused a loss of muscle, which probably means that I could actually be fatter than I was at my heaviest six years ago.

Enough. This injury has made me appreciate the simple feat of walking in a way I never had before. Being 60 pounds overweight certainly hasn't helped my knees, and in fact probably contributed to my current injury. Walking, jogging and clogging on an already bad knee while overweight most likely accelerated the degeneration of the cartilage due to the extra pressure.

I always rationalized that being thin was nice, but that as long as I was active, my weight wasn't a big deal. I always wanted to be thin. All I had to do was look at past pictures to remember what I looked like as a thin person. But I wasn't motivated enough to actually adopt the behaviors that would make me thin.

I think I'm there now.

I guess I'll go with what I know - back to Body for Life, at least the diet part, for the next month until I have the green light to return to normal activity. Time to get that gym membership again so I'll have access to the low-impact cardio machines and all the weight training equipment.

Anybody have tips on ignoring all the 20-something bust-job gym babes that poured themselves into their spandex? If you're one of those women, smack yourself, please.