A Pound of Flesh, an Ounce of Hope

I dislike math.

I dislike math for the same reasons I dislike following recipes.  Too much structure.  Too many  opportunities to err.  To me, math is devoid of creativity.  It is the opposite of art.  There is only one way to reach a solution.  Despite being a Christian who does indeed believe in only one way to get to Heaven, I find that applying the concept of "my way or the highway" rarely works in most social exchanges.  In fact, people who behave in such a way are often labeled unkindly.

So, you see, to me, math is sort of a bully.  It says: one way.  Period.

I dislike math.

But I am now finding myself relying on it as I - sigh - count calories.

Although I hear "oh, my gosh, you are SO not fat!" from a lot of my friends, and I do appreciate the compliments, the fact remains that I have been heavy all my life.  Yes, I have learned to dress in a way that flatters my figure, and yes, I am wise enough to know that the jeggings fad is not for me.  But it has always bothered me that I never liked exercise, and that I liked food too much.  Couldn't it be the other way around?

My recent scare with abnormally high blood pressure has got me more concerned than ever about my health.  The good news is that I successfully avoided "newlywed weight gain" and have maintained my weight now for about 2 years.  This is good...because in college, my weight only ever went up.  Between working at Starbucks and Curves for several years, I lost about 25 pounds.  I gained some of that back after leaving Starbucks, but I have been holding steady.  That in itself is an accomplishment for me.  So I feel like I am ready for the next step.

Of course, in order to like - or even tolerate - exercise, I have had to associate it with something else I do like.  Visions of myself in a super-cute bikini near the ocean don't work for me, since I don't know how to swim.  My wedding has passed, so picturing myself in a wedding gown, slim and trim, doesn't help either.    What may help is imagining myself at my current weight, packing on an additional 30 pounds during pregnancy,  Eep!  That is way too scary!  So forget the visualizing.  It's bunk for me.  What is working is, of course, music.

If you think I downloaded the theme from Rocky, you would be correct.  I put a deliciously cheesy soundtrack together for myself, and I don't care who knows it.  If you aren't moved, even the slightest bit, by the opening fanfare of "Gotta Fly Now", then you are dead.  And therefore, you don't need to worry about your weight.  But for the rest of us...

Ross's employer offers a discount on health insurance if he fits into certain categories.  One requirement is that he lose ten pounds before the end of April.  Now, I certainly don't think my hubby needs to lose any weight, but he is willing to do it.  For the discount, of course.  So we've committed to losing 10 pounds in about 8 weeks.  That is a reasonable goal.  I think I can do it.

Sometimes deadlines are helpful, you know?

Several years ago I attempted to lose wight and joined an awesome website called myfitnesspal.com.  It is a great resource, but I got tired of tracking everything I ate.  That counting thing again.  But now they have an app for my phone, so I figure I will give it another go.

The best part?

Cooking burns 140 calories an hour.

I can so do this.