Fat PantsWell, it's happened. After six and a half years of having a 34-inch waist, I have had to buy some 36-inch-waist pants. Unlike the last time (when I graduated from a 32, causing weeks of moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth), it's not because my bones and muscles have expanded with maturity... it's because my tummy has expanded with gluttony.
Of course, the nice thing about this is that I don't have to replace my entire wardrobe, because the tummy need not be permanent. There's not much you can do if your pelvis expands and your muscles fill in the extra space as your body reaches it's full natural proportions (which happens at different times for different people). But this belly hanging uncomfortably over the tops of my 34s can be removed, with a little effort. And so I only bought two pairs of 36-waist pants, they aren't especially snazzy, and I bought them at Ross so they didn't cost much of anything. I am accepting my belly on its own terms, but I am not going to plan on it being a permanent part of my life.
I will look at this size-upgrade as Ralph Lauren, Perry Ellis, Levi Strauss and M. & Mme. Girbaud all telling me that it's time to get off the pity-pot and start aerobics again. Not only will it help to shed this unpleasant layer of fat and tone up the abs so that it's not such an effort to "suck in," but it will also probably help me limber up for my Musical rehearsals. If I were to exercise two or three more times a week, it wouldn't take so long to warm up for the dance; I've also noticed that when I am accustomed to strenuous breathing, my lung capacity increases, making it easier to sing with volume.
And then there is the issue of my body-image, as discussed two posts down. My chief dislike of my body is related to my stomach and the sagging around my chest. So why not just get rid of the belly and find some way of tightening my skin? The best way to stop sagging is to fill the skin with more mass, preferably muscle... but I don't want muscles. I just want my skin to shrink up a bit, like my sweaters always seem to do. There must be some way of doing this, short of bathing in Preparation H.
I'm thinking I ought to give up one of my bad eating habits for Lent. Not for religious reasons, mind, but since today is Ash Wednesday and it's always a good plan to suffer when everyone else around you is suffering (my coworkers have both given up sweets... though BB, a Catholic, has given up all refined sugar, while JB, a Methodist, has simply given up chocolate). I think I might just erase potatoes from my life. I will have to talk to Grandmother about this so she will only make single portions when she cooks. She won't like it, though. She really believes you need to have a lot of starch in your diet to be healthy. Which is why she weighs the same as I do although she is thirteen inches shorter.
So after my manic episode yesterday (which was rather pronounced, my coworkers and even the guys at my AA meeting noticed that I was spinning rather faster than necessary), I am bracing for my little crash. But, if I hold true to pattern, the little crash will be the last one for a while, and my Depression cycle will be over with. Just in time for allergy season. Yay!
Actually, I think allergy season has started already. My sinuses have been playing holy hell with me all day, and they were bothering me over the weekend. I think this sudden balmy weather has fooled a lot of the trees and other plant-life into believing that Spring has Sprung. They're in for a nasty surprise, according to the Weathermen (Grandmother's version of the Magi), who are predicting a cold snap any day now. I'll stock up on Sudafed and Advil now and stash pills in my car, my desk, and my bathroom so it doesn't catch me by surprise.
Well anyway... if anybody knows of a good aerobics tape (I don't want any chirpy perky instructors, but it has to be low-impact), let me know. And if anybody has a good method for drawing up the slack under your arms that will not cause the shoulder-muscles to become too pronounced, let me know that too. I don't necessarily want to look like this guy (though if I had a magic genie in a lamp, I would look something like this guy), but there's a lot of room for improvement on my torso. A lot of room. Acres and acres, darling!
(PS: I just used some of this manic energy to do some much-needed housekeeping on my ancillary pages, so go take a look around if you're interested.)