20 June 2011

Growing up and out

About two weeks apart, two different women have asked If I was pregnant. Well, not as bluntly as that. They did try to be cautious - "Is it good news?" and "So, are you planning a baby?" Now, as it happens. No. I am not pregnant. But what I do have is an unflattering paunch.

I was having myself measured at the Tailors' today, watching him scribbling in tiny letters my dimensions so as to remind himself of the pattern and the bulges. And at this point I was forced to confront the situation that I has been weighing on me for a while.

Some uncomfortable truths:
  • My waistline which was a petite 26 has climbed to 29.
  • My hips have grown from their heydays of being 35 to 37.5.
  • My weight has gone up from 50 to 55kgs
The pounds have not rushed in but merely sauntered, found places with a view and settled comfortably in my tissue. I used to think the fats were renting; turns out they purchased the entire condo and the parking lot. Most women struggle with weight. My battles are limited: From ages 0 to 15 I was chubby; then something happened (romantics would call it a blossoming; realists would call it hormones) and I lost the flab. The paunch though, remained. It was just less visible. That status quo remained till I was 29 when I started my job in India.

What changed? Well, I went from sitting only for lunch and tea to sitting forever. The current job has all the trappings of a luxury life - two computer screens, a housekeeper who makes coffee better than the italians and an office where meals are an all-you-can-eat buffet, everyday. I tried to interject some exercise, but the lazy genes got activated and before I could say "freeze" I had ballooned.


Do I want to change? Well, having grown up being a chubby tubby for some junior years, the fatness per se doesn't bother; what annoys is the places in which it is sequestered. The real estate map of my body is all wrong. Why dont' fat like ankles? Consequently, I bulge in awkward places. N was very sweet about this body image issue - he says I should just wear loose clothes so no one can tell how many tyre manufacturers I have hidden away on my abdomen. I still haven't answered the question, right? Well, yes I do. Not in the size-zero way though. Because, most importantly, I can't diet.
Just thinking about dieting makes me hungry. I get cranky and like a young child with cooties when I am hungry. This foray would not work for me professionally. Imagine starving and PMS-ing together? Cataclysmic. Not so much for me, but for all those brave people who work with me.

Right, so something has to give. Exercise. N got us a stationery bike which I used to ride for a bit after new years (make the connection?) but I got bored of sitting again. Walking and running are alternatives but the heat did it in for me. Now though, the monsoons are in, so I suppose that's not an excuse. Well, I want to lose some flab. But I am determined not to do two things:

a) weigh myself

b) diet

(a) is a potential issue because it would not be so easy to tell if the weight loss program is working. But I think what I am going to do instead is measure the waist line and hip. (b) is a no-brainer. For world peace, I have to make this sacrifice. So in the coming weeks, I am going to use you, dear blog, to map out my progress. To the exercise bike, and beyond.

No comments:

Post a Comment