I've got to say out loud the things you probably already know but can easily ignore since nobody really talks about it. If you're genetically predisposed to getting fat, you're going to get fat. If all you eat is junk food, you're going to get fat. If all you do is sit, you're going to get fat. If you do all of the above, you're going to get really fat. Trust me, I know first-hand. I got really fat, fast. It's really easy to pile on the pounds.
Macaroni and cheese was my 'comfort' food. I'd tuck into a bowl when feeling down, pig out until my gut hurt, then eat more. Then, I'd dig into that luscious richness when I was feeling fine, and the bowls got bigger and bigger. Needless to say, so did I. "Oh, I'll make up for it tomorrow by not eating," I'd think to myself as I slobbered all over my chin. I'd forget by the next day and slobber that chin up yet again.
Not only was it impossible to button and zip my jeans, but I'd knock things over with my hips. I'd misjudge the amount of available room and black and blue myself up pretty good. Shirts and coats wouldn't fit over my massive upper arms, and my collar bones disappeared, along with every other bone in my body. The worst part was that it seemed that my arms became much, much shorter; so much so that 'personal care' became quite the challenge, if you know what I mean. I was as round as I was wide, and no physics known to man was going to stretch those arms to reach places that never used to need wild contortions to reach. My back killed me, my knees screamed constantly and I walked (waddled) as slowly as an old lady in her 90s. Not fun. Not fun at all.
I'm 5'3 and weighed 237 pounds. Ouch. So, I got in gear and started exercising enough to lose 10 pounds in one month. That takes us to January, 2012. Then, it all turned around when I became ill with a digestive system problem, a biliary blockage. I lost 40 pounds during the 6-week hospital stay and continued to lose when I came home. Now, a year later, I weigh 116, which is lighter than I've ever been in my adult life. No need for wild contortions to wipe now.
What you won't hear and won't read about is what happens when you loose a lot of weight. Sure, it's great to find you do have bones again, you're not knocking over the same plant every time you pass it, and you really do have a neck instead of numerous chins. It's great to wear clothes again that you haven't been able to fit in for years that you held onto just for shits and grins. It's great to see your toes and pubic hair again and actually walk beside someone through a doorway. Those are all the great things about losing all that excess poundage.
The bad thing - the only negative - about losing weight is that the fat may have gone away, but the skin doesn't seem to care about that. Yep, a whole lot of excess skin hangs and sags and flaps all over the place. Skin doesn't seem to shrink to fit. The good thing is that clothes hide most of it, so it's not enough of a deterrent to weight loss. But, it surprised me, took me off guard. Forget about tank tops and shorts, not unless you don't care about taking flight if a good wind kicks up.
So, I'm going to enjoy this New Me and look into maybe donating this excess skin to a burn unit. I hear Arkansas Children's Hospital has one of the best burn programs in the country, and maybe they'd appreciate the skin I'm no longer needing. What do you think?