So let's just say I'd like to blame the pregnancy and the months of bedrest for my backfat and my jiggly arms and all my other "wobbly bits" at Bridget Jones would call them. But let's face it--the product of that pregnancy and all that bed-lounging is going to be 8 months old next week. One would have thought that somewhere between May 5 and December 29, Mama could have shed a few pounds. And she could have. Had she not been enjoying chai tea lattes and ice cream and Chipotle. But she has been enjoying the aforementioned treats as well as anything else chocolate-y and yummy she can get her chubby little fingers on. And thus, what was 185 pounds immediately after delivery is now somewhere in the vacinity of 170 pounds. A far cry from the 135 of my wedding day (and even then I wanted to be 125).
But Sarah, you've lost 15 pounds! That's not bad! This could only be said to me by people who don't realize that technically, given the water weight, the placenta and all that jazz, I should have walked out of the hospital 20 pounds lighter immediately. And the lovely mantra of "9 up, 9 down", which I chanted to myself daily until about 7 months post-partum when I realized that meant I only had two months left to lose 35 pounds. And Nicole Ritchie, I ain't. Mama likes her food.
Initially I planned to gauge myself against two of my pregnant friends, each due just days from now. I told myself, "Well, I'll be at my pre-pregnancy weight by the time they have their babies." I figured that gave me oodles of time to get all svelte. Hmmmph. One of them, at her heaviest in her pregnancy hasn't managed to pack on enough pounds to even touch my wedding-day weight, so even if I were at my pre-pregnancy weight by the time she delivered, I'd still look like a big old fatty conpared to her! My other friend gained like a happy and hungry pregnant lady, so she weighs about what I weigh---now.
So here I am--170-ish pounds, three days before the new year. I say "ish" because I am one of those women whose weight varies by up to 3-4 pounds by the minute. Everytime I step on the scale I am likely to see a number different from the one I saw 20 minutes ago. And that is stripped down, bare-naked weight. It's not like I'm wearing a thicker sock at one weigh-in. I don't know how it happens; but an extra couple of pounds just appears and vanishes (they always come back, though, the pesky little fuckers).
My goal: 135 pounds. My time frame: January 2nd-May 5th.
My strategy: Um, I'm still working on this one. I know that when I get to a certain weight, my body has an easy time staying there unless I totally binge and junk out. So I am probably going to do some pretty restrictive eating until I get to my goal, then slowly start seeing what my body will tolerate to stay in a certain weight range. We are having a New Year's Day brunch on the 1st, during which I plan to eat like it was my job. People will leave our house muttering, "No wonder she's such a cow; did you see her with that quiche?" And I don't care. Because the next day, a mulititude of food items that make me swoon with pleasure will cease to be food items to me for the next several months. Chai tea lattes will have all the consumability of a wooden chair leg. (This is how my kosher friend explained to me how she doesn't feel she's missing out by not being able to eat lobster, shrimp, etc.--"to me, its as absurd to eat those things as it would be for me to go gnaw on that table leg; it's just not food." Damn her, and her skinny kosher ass.)
There will also be exercising. A long time ago, I belonged to a gym. Then, when I was hospitalized for preterm labor last March, I had one of my doctors write me a note to "get out of gym". If you read my other blog, you might remember that. Well, I got the note and all, but I never sent it in; so officially, I still belong to the gym. I even went once, back in July. So, yes, I went to the gym ONCE this year. At $40/month, that was a really pricey trip to the gym. So perhaps now I will start taking advantage of that as well as getting myself a jogging stroller (since we're clearly not going to have a flake of snow or a daytime temperature below 40 this winter in DC). I tried to job once with our metrolite stroller....let's just say one shouldn't jog with a stroller that has a break located at the natural fall of your foot. More than once, I almost took a header over the stroller as it came to a complete stop and my huffing, puffing body just kept on going. I hope it was at least entertaining for the little one.
So wish me luck. I will be ranting and raving with the sugar withdrawals and bitching and moaning when I dont' weigh 120 pounds by January 5th. All of my patience is consumed by the little one these days; there is not much to go around, least of all to myself. But, a new year, a new Sarah.