Life in the Middle Lane

Alternatively titled: Why I prefer nudity

I have to start this post by telling everyone that I’m not just getting fatter. I hope to GOD that I’m not getting fatter, since I pay 50 bucks a month for a gym membership and I spend 3+ hours several days a week working out and dealing with all the stuff that goes along with working out (travel, showering, etc)

Since starting to work out last year, I’ve toned up tremendously (I have thighs and buns of steel) but I haven’t seen the scale budge.  Honestly, I haven’t seen a difference in (most) of my clothes. It takes a huge weight gain before my clothes let me know that I’ve started gaining.  The latest weight gain took place during the two years that I was in MPA School drinking beer and exercising little (none in the first year, sporadically in the second year).  I’m just (in the past 6-8 months) starting to notice and, only recently, try to do something about it.

Because I’m something of a yo-yo weight loser I have about 3 different sizes of clothes.  The first (lowest sized) clothes are tight now, and I’ve moved on to the next largest size.  These clothes are supposed to fit.

So I was surprised last week, when, after only a few hours at work I realize how uncomfortable I am. I realize that my clothes are tight. And of course, as soon as I START to think about how the waistband of my pants is digging into my stomach, I can’t think of anything but my bloated stomach.

So after a couple more hours of labored breathing and hurting stomach, I vow that as soon as I get these clothes home, they are going into my “goodwill” pile.

Later, I get home; chuck the pants and the shirt (good riddance!) away, put on my favorite sweat pants and finally starts to breath normally.  When the GF get’s home, I, still sore from the day of poor circulation around my middle, tell her about giving the pants away.

And she asked me which pants I’m giving away because I’m not allowed to give any away until she made sure that they aren’t the pants she liked to see me in.

*Shrugging*.  What am I going to do with her?

The story continues….

It has been unseasonably cold in Atlanta this winter, so I’m learning how to layer (Don’t judge me, I’m southern.  I shouldn’t have to layer).  I was wearing a button-down shirt under a sweater.   Somehow two of the shirt’s buttons have come undone, it’s tight around the shoulders and the sweater is itchy on my skin.  And I think I shrunk this sweater last time I washed it because it is RIDING UP along my stomach.

Not happy times.

Guess what?  I have more items for my “goodwill” bag.  (Yay for somebody.)

I think I need to go on a diet.

I’m also going to think about fundamentally changing the way that I dress.  Three out of five days a week something I wear to work makes me uncomfortable. I hate pants, shirts, and boots. I can’t wait until summer when I can wear skirts, dresses and flip flops. I NEVER feel this uncomfortable in a skirt (unless I’m cold).  I felt more uncomfortable yesterday than I did in 4^th grade gym class when I had to turn flips in a shirt without showing my ass. I need flowy pieces, tunics, elastic, cotton, things that breathe (so that I can breathe).

I need to go shopping.

And on a semi-related note…

Dear Mother Nature, Can I get some sunshine and 78 degree weather so that I don’t have to wear all these clothes? Puh -Puh -Please?