If I could, l would travel back in time and slap my 7 month younger self who had quit carbohydrates and was on an unappetizing diet of protein (and was struggling to poop as a result) in an effort to get out of a weight loss plateau. As a women it is natural state of affairs to look at the mirror and only see the faults. The Dove ad didn’t garner so many hits for nothing.
I was never fat. Because I didn’t know what fat meant. At my highest I was still a UK size 10. I hate that I used to dislike my 10K running, 45kg dead lifting body so much. Because among other things pregnancy teaches you how rocking your former body was.
I know women get bigger when they are pregnant. I know am making a baby. I know my weight gain isn’t a medically dangerous. But when u are snug in a size 18 – you truly realise what being big means. And with it all challenges of being overweight.
Life literally is slower.
The walk to office takes 20 minutes instead of 10. The end if which an oxygen tank and a small portable AC on my head sound pretty good.
Your feet also swell in size. Your ankles disappear.
Your thighs decide to give each other a rub down every time you walk.
Your ladies finger are now little sausages with your wedding ring squeezing them for dear life.
You can’t squeeze in the last place in a lift.
Bending and getting up are challenges.
Yoga feels like burpees followed by jumping squats.
Not all designs are available in XL and 2XL.
Pants aren’t your friends.
I have never appreciated the issues of overweight people more. And I am waiting to get back to pounding the pavement and out lifting the men.
I could have avoided being at this stage if I had been careful about what I stuff in my face with but life has been a uncontrolled buffet the last 6 months. For the first time I have given in to every craving I have.
And the results are sitting on my butt and the 2XL tops I bought today.