Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Inner Tubing

One of the problems of living with my parents has been a steady, insidious weight gain.  My mother cooks many of the same things I do but without the emphasis on cutting fat and calories.  Instead of putting butter or peanut butter on toast, she slathers on both.  She serves the toast with rather than instead of cold cereal.  Her portion sizes are not outrageous, but a mere extra 100 calories a day translates into 10 pounds of weight a year.  After unpacking my scale today I realized that I must have been eating about 300 additional calories per day because I've put on 10 pounds in four months.

To be honest, today's weigh-in was not the first sign that my waistline has literally been expanding.  A few weeks ago I was typing away at my computer when I noticed that my elbows were resting on something other than the arms of my chair.  It was the dreaded muffin top, or love handles, or spare tire - whatever you want to call it, it was those extra 10 pounds in a ring around my middle.

Always before when I've gained extra weight it's been evenly distributed all over my body.  I had been deluding myself that my weight was fairly stable because my pants have not been getting (much) tighter.  Alas, this is apparently yet another unwelcome sign that my body's estrogen level is sinking rapidly, never to return.

Now that I've more or less moved into my new place (more on the angst this has involved later) I can cut back on my caloric intake and, with any luck, get rid of the excess baggage as quickly as I put it on.  If not, well, I suppose I can indulge in the local pastime of inner tubing down the Salt River without even having to rent the equipment.

"A fat stomach never breeds fine thoughts. " ~St. Jerome

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