Seriously — I haven't lost any discernible weight for two years now, and in fact, thanks to Tam (my visiting foreign exchange student! whose ways are so inscrutable and mysterious!) and perhaps my own aging metabolism (fifty-whoo!), I've gained back at least 10 of my hard-lost pounds, if not more, and the whole enterprise feels ridiculous and somewhat lacking in a point.
I cut out something from a magazine article about a woman who lost more than 100 pounds, and taped it to my computer:
" . . . 30 minutes of aerobic exercise, 64 ounces of water, and . . . at least 22 grams of fiber every day, plus staying within a daily 1,000–1,400 calorie range."Whenever I'm next able to gird my loins and muster my wits and gather my rosebuds and whatever my whatevers, that will be my next Boot Camp week framework.
But that week is not this week. I've been crazy-busy with editing work, transporting Mimosa to and from driving school, getting Li'l Martini up and moving before noon (he is such a teenager! But he has 35 pages of summer reading to read each day, plus a glockenspiel to practice; he needs to get moving, says Drill Sergeant Mommy), and otherwise keeping the family going sans Daddy this week is taking every bit of energy I can muster.
And as I may have mentioned, I am moving at half speed these days. I am in a perpetual fog; my limbs are heavy; fatigue and fuzziness are my daily companions. It's like living inside an aspic.
It's a shame, too, because it's truly been the loveliest summer — warm mellow days, cool breezes, green lawns, fragrant gardens, chirping birds, a buzzing insect kingdom, and laughing, babbling toddlers. Life goes on, in all its verdant glory, and this too shall pass.
I have been logging my food this week, just to get a sense of what I'm eating, and I'm more or less within the calorie limits Fat Secret has given me — and yet, and yet. My grief has made me extra-absorbent, I fear.
Someday, someday, I will have weight-loss news again.
Just not today.
Off to eat garlicky pasta and Trader Joe's Party Meatballs and veggie-loaded green salad and watch Gravity Falls with my kids.
— Lady C
p.s. My besty Lady Darcy says she loves it when I share what books I'm reading, and I am nothing if not a dutiful BF. I just read: