If weight is just a number, why does it bother me so much?

As the blurb on my blog informs anyone who chances upon my printed thoughts, I am approaching 40. In fact I'm on the final stretch to the big day - 4 months and one week to go 👍. This does not bother me. In fact I am embracing the impending decade change with excitement. I guess it's because this time in my life is the most stable, and the most enjoyable I've experienced for a long, long time. Getting older isn't as scary as I thought it would be. I've even decided to start growing out my grey hair (well, being in quarantine has certainly helped that decision).
So if finally crossing over into my 5th decade isn't a problem, you'd think that I'm probably one of those annoying people who have their life together. ❌ WRONG! While some areas of my life could be described as together (all be it with sellotape, pritt-stick and a large dollop of hope) other parts are a complete mess. Top of the 'what the hell is going on' list is something I think a lot of people can relate to... my weight.

                                               

I have a love/hate relationship with my weight right now which is probably being emphasised by the current situation. I started the quarantine determined not to fall victim to boredom snacking, then I got it into my head that I could actually leave the flat as a better, much improved version of the one that went into lock-down.

Now, five weeks in and I am constantly beating myself up because I have failed to lose more than a pound. Actually, that's not quite true. I have dipped below 10 stone but then found myself bouncing right back up again. Days later, the number would decrease and I was on my journey again. Until the number went up and... I think you get the idea. Weight loss is never linear, I know that, unfortunately that hasn't made me think any more rationally. This has been creating a vicious cycle that I am finally starting to see isn't helping my mental health.

Pregnant with Sophie at 7 and 8 months

I have never been extremely overweight. I was very lucky that I didn't put on loads of weight when I was pregnant. However, I did go up to a size 14 which for me, an ex-swimmer, ex-captain of the netball team, fairly active person up until the month I gave birth, was not comfortable. It took many years but eventually I went from 12 stone to 9 and a half stone.

All well and good, but it never lasted. I didn't go back up to my biggest weight, but I did yo-yo for a bit. I would have patches of regular activity (I trained for and completed a Swimathon, cycled to and from work for over a year) and then I would have times when I could not be bothered. Whether I used my studying or health issues, there was an excuse I could fall back on until I was fed up enough to go again.

Very sophisticated for a lass from Dag'nam!

My last surge was in the lead up to my wedding. Like most brides, I wanted to look my best on the big day so I was on the workout and healthy eating trail once again. I love my photos and loved the way I looked on the day (which is also in part thanks to my excellent photographer and awesome hair and makeup lady).

As is the way, after the wedding, I wasn't as 'strict' and the weight went slowly up. By the time 2019 came to the home straight, I was 10 pounds heavier.

Dressed up to see Cher at the O2 (Oct' 2019) (size 10 - just)

Which brings me to now. As I've said before (and I might mention again) 40 is coming up and I decided that this was the birthday where I wanted to make a fuss. Then Covid-19 happened to the world and priorities changed. Plans can be rearranged, people's health cannot. Working from home became the new norm and the outside world almost became a forbidden zone.

With all these changes, you'd think that I would adapt with them. Apparently not. In my head I am still on the track to my best self and to hell with the fact that things are not normal right now. So any deviations from that plan put me in a funk and I started to overthink EVERYTHING. Why am I not losing pounds every week? Why do I not have a butt of steel already? Why can't I just eat chocolate and drink wine, and still have a six-pack? 

2011 - size 12/14

I'm very careful not to mention weight in front of my daughter. I make sure I emphasise exercise and diet for health and strength, but I'm sure she senses my foul mood when I've found out that the scales have failed to shift, or worse, gone in the 'wrong' direction.

I have a horrible habit of weighing myself every morning. I don't know why, or what I expect to happen. I tried to put my scales away. That lasted for a week before they found their way back into the bathroom and available for my daily torture. This is something that I know I need to get away from asap.

I also need to stop being hard on myself. I am still getting up at 6am and working out. I have had to adapt my routine as three weeks into lockdown, my right knee started to swell and I had to rest it (which I obviously hated). Now it's mostly bodyweights with some yoga. 

Then my walks have also changed. My daughter has started to join me out and about, so instead of sticking in earphones and walking with purpose, we enjoy the outdoors and chat. This is mother daughter time and I have been enjoying it immensely - much more important that trying to burn a few extra calories.

I don't want to be skinny, I want to be me, just a really healthy (read - sexy?) me. I have to try and disassociate the numbers on a scale with how I look and feel. I know that won't be easy and I'm not going to kid myself that I can just stop thinking about losing pounds. But I also know there are other concerns in the world and it is more important to worry about my mental well-being rather than the size of my stomach.