To be honest, when I was pregnant (and god, doesn’t that seem like it was eons ago already!) gaining weight was actually kind of fun. I mean, I didn’t go crazy with it or anything, but I certainly packed on a few pounds. Okay, so by a few, I mean like 55. And yeah, so okay, I guess I did go kind of crazy with it. The thing was, this was around the time that every celebrity and their sister had been knocked up and voila, six weeks later they were back into a size 0. Amazing! Could it really be that easy? Were pregnancy pounds somehow different than your average run-of-the-mill pounds?
Now I’ve never been one to follow the lives of celebrities really, but my ears always perked up when I would hear about how so-and-so gained 60 pounds and it melted away shortly after birth and so, being the idiot (or uninformed optimist) that I am sometimes, I figured this would be possible for me too. I told myself that as soon as I’d recovered, I would just start walking everyday and eventually build a running schedule. Bam! Simple as that! It seemed like, at the moment I was devouring that second Pat’s cream-filled donut, that even without a personal trainer, I could be back in a bikini within a couple of months. After all, I kept telling myself, pregnancy weight comes off easier than real weight, right?
Okay, so I was optimistic for the first two weeks after having The Bee because I started losing weight like crazy. Within three weeks almost 20 pounds was gone, as if by magic and quite predictably, I was ecstatic. What I didn’t realize was that this wasn’t pregnancy weight necessarily, but water weight. There’s a huge difference between the two and needless to say, I started to get a little frustrated after losing pounds with no effort for a few weeks only to have the scale stop dead in the high 150s. It really hasn’t budged throughout this month either and believe me, I’ve been trying. Every night I step out for a very brisk hour-long walk and during the day I make sure to only consume around 1000 calories. I couldn’t do this while I was nursing (which if I could have kept doing it for longer that would have been another excellent and easy way to keep the pounds off). At this rate, it looks like I might expect to lose around 1-2 pounds per week and my fanciful dream of wearing my old clothes is just going to have to be deferred for another several months. Stupid celebrities….
Okay, better yet, stupid me for holding them up as examples of a normal post-pregnancy experience.
Well anyway, I will keep pluggin’ and stick to my speed-walking. To make things easier I spoiled myself and bought an iPod shuffle to inspire me to walk. It has kept me on track, I must say. Instead of listening to music (which being a cheapskate I don’t want to pay for seeing as how I already forked over $80 for something that’s the size of a Triscut) I can download all kinds of podcasts for free. This American Life and all my other NPR shows are all available and thankfully, most of them are about exactly an hour long so I can both time my walk and forget that I’m walking. I heart NPR.
Besides, listening to something with all of my attention helps me block out the fact that other walkers in our oh-so-hoity-toity neighborhood give me the eye…. You see, they all have actual outfits specifically for walking fast and me, well, let’s just say that between my giant old hat, frumpy but warm attire, and pants that were designed to suit the fashion needs of late-term pregnancy I look kind of like this:
While they look something like this:
Then again, who cares? Like I’d ever wear velour anyway. Since when did it become acceptable for women to judge one another on the clothes they wear to work out in when it’s like 35 degrees and 10:30 p.m.?
Okay, so I’m just looking for reasons to bitch about working out and am skirting the most obvious one… I want my pounds to melt away as if by celebrity-magic dammit! More on the weight loss efforts later.