At Peace with the Pounds

For over a year now, I have been between one and five pounds over the top of my Weight Watchers recommended weight range. I have been officially "overweight" according to them, even though my BMI is in the "normal" range. Weight Watchers helped me get from a weight the CDC considers "obese" to this weight, and the habits I learned seem to have stuck, because I haven't really exceeded the CDC's "normal" range in more than two years.

I spent a lot of 2005 trying to get rid of these last five pounds. They're incredibly frustrating little bastards, and they just won't go anywhere. I could shoo them away for maybe a week, but I could not keep them off. So I've been piloting a little radical acceptance in 2006, and I've decided that I'm happy with the success of the pilot program, and it's time to make it permanent.

I'm not letting these extra five pounds go anywhere. I can get rid of them, but only by starving myself and becoming a shrewish harpy. And once that happens, well, I'll probably wreak uncontrollable havoc at my job, and become a bad daughter, and heaven knows what else. So I'm keeping those five little troublemakers right here where I can keep an eye on 'em. Go ahead, you little fuckers! Try and leave!

My new goal is simple. I want to be able to walk up stairs without looking like I need medical attention. I want to be able to watch a horror movie without thinking, "Wow, that chick can run. If it were me running away from the guy with the knife, I'd have to be smart enough to get away in under a minute, because otherwise he could just walk up and kill me when I doubled over with a cramp." (Jamie Lee Curtis is my hero--she does very little running. I'm just about fit enough to poke Michael in the eye. Go Laurie Strode!) I want to be able to walk next to a tall person and still carry on a conversation with him. The next time I go to London, I want to be able to take in the scenic beauty of the Thames path without catching a bus.

So that's the plan. Ignore the scale and focus on keeping fit. Coincidentally, I'm going to go make brownies.