The Wynonna Judd Way (Weigh)
Queen Me shares ...
I was reading a magazine yesterday—Good Housekeeping—and it featured an interview with Wynonna Judd. Seeing the feature, I purchased the magazine at the grocery store. You see I happened to see the Oprah show where Wynonna shared her agony, shame, and frustration over her weight. And then (sorry Oprah), I missed the follow-up show. So, I never KNEW what happened. Did she lose weight? What?
Oh joy! This magazine had the answers. Yes, she lost weight. She claims about 20 pounds. Wynonna wants to lose more, but isn't stressing about it (she swears). Instead she's attempting to live a healthy life—by making better choices and getting to the bottom of her 'emotional' eating habits. So, good for Wynonna. You go girl! I wish you the best.
Now, what about me? Wah! This excess weight issue has plagued me since 8th grade. Sad, huh? And just like Caroline Knapp (remember last week’s blog?)—until nine years ago—my views were warped! In 2005, my views are no longer warped. It’s reality. I need to shed some weight.
So what happened nine years ago? Yep, I got pregnant. Pre-pregnancy, I worked out regularly. Although not completely happy with my physical appearance at the time, for the most part, I felt comfortable in my own skin.
Now, I don’t. Yuck. It all started because I found this book titled: Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy. Darn it! I believed the author when she said, “Girlfriend. Stop exercising! Don’t worry about it. Hey, I’m your girlfriend and I’ve had five babies. I know what I’m talking about. As soon as you get that little baby out of you, you can return to exercise. Really. I mean it.” That day I stopped. And I never “returned to it” like she promised I would. Sorry, girlfriend, but buying your book destroyed my life. Well, okay, so I’m exaggerating a little.
After dropping my fifteen-year-old exercise habit, I couldn’t find my way back to it. Oh, not too long ago I picked up tennis again. And, well, that most certainly helped a little. But playing tennis two to three times a week (or less) will not do anything for weight loss or maintenance efforts. I know. I’ve tried it for five years!
Did I tell you I threw out my scales last month? I decided ... NO MORE. Actually, my dearly departed scales stopped working. Don't laugh; I never owned the digital kind. Ha! It had actually reached the point where I could trick myself and adjust the setting a little. “See, I still weigh what I did last week. See?”
But at the moment I stepped on my broken-down scales, I had an epiphany. And girlfriend here’s what You should have been telling me nine years ago. Why weigh? Who cares what you weigh? Weighing makes NO sense. None.
Let’s get real. When you try on your clothes in the morning, aren’t you more concerned with how they fit? Weight is such an arbitrary thing. Line up three women weighing 165 pounds and you’ll have a range of sizes (height, width, muscle mass). It makes much more sense to focus on the size you are comfortable wearing. Doesn’t it?
So when did I most enjoyed wearing clothes? Yep, that would be nine years ago—and two sizes smaller than I am now. My scale had no way of telling me what size I felt comfortable wearing. So, I chunked it and swore NOT to replace it. And I haven't. The only obstacle left to face is at the doctor's office! Well, look out Doc! I'm going to throw a fit if you insist that I weigh. I started playing tough about three years ago (at the doctor’s office). But it was all talk. Never have I refused to weigh even though I practiced refusing all the way to the weigh-in checkpoint. Why did a doctor’s scale bother me more than my own scale? Are you kidding me? The doctor’s scale lies! Always! The doctor’s scale added five to seven pounds to my frame. Well, I’m not playing anymore—not this time sisters. I don’t do scales anymore. And Doc, if you want to know how I’m doing weight wise, then ask what size clothes I wear—see if I’m wearing the same size I did last year. Heck, check the label when I’m not looking if you have to.
Now, just so you know, this tale does have a happy ending. Well, at least I’m heading towards one. Obviously, I still wear a size I don’t like. So, what am I doing about it? Besides playing tennis one to three times weekly, I’ve added walking to my routine. Lordy, why didn’t I think of this sooner? It’s so easy to do. Cheap too. I can’t tell you why I suddenly decided to do something more, but I did. I’m ready to take charge and make changes. Those changes involve regular exercise and attention to what I’m eating. Dieting doesn’t work for me. It makes me mad and angry. I feel deprived and frustrated. Funny, that I did something on and off for nine years that made me feel bad. Anyway, I’m not dieting. Instead I’m focusing on making healthier choices—like Wynonna. There is nothing off limits—just a time and a place and a portion.
I have no idea if I’ll ever return to my previous size. This time I’m not making myself empty promises. What I am promising myself is that I’ll be in better shape and health. And that’s a promise I’m planning to keep.
While reading the article about Wynonna, I had to laugh. Turns out Wynonna chunked her scale too. She wants to start a scale-chunking movement. I like this woman. Mine is already gone. What about yours? Join me! We are sisters. We are Queens! We are scale-less. Come on. Why wait? Throw that sucker away.
It feels too good!
www.queenpower.com
I was reading a magazine yesterday—Good Housekeeping—and it featured an interview with Wynonna Judd. Seeing the feature, I purchased the magazine at the grocery store. You see I happened to see the Oprah show where Wynonna shared her agony, shame, and frustration over her weight. And then (sorry Oprah), I missed the follow-up show. So, I never KNEW what happened. Did she lose weight? What?
Oh joy! This magazine had the answers. Yes, she lost weight. She claims about 20 pounds. Wynonna wants to lose more, but isn't stressing about it (she swears). Instead she's attempting to live a healthy life—by making better choices and getting to the bottom of her 'emotional' eating habits. So, good for Wynonna. You go girl! I wish you the best.
Now, what about me? Wah! This excess weight issue has plagued me since 8th grade. Sad, huh? And just like Caroline Knapp (remember last week’s blog?)—until nine years ago—my views were warped! In 2005, my views are no longer warped. It’s reality. I need to shed some weight.
So what happened nine years ago? Yep, I got pregnant. Pre-pregnancy, I worked out regularly. Although not completely happy with my physical appearance at the time, for the most part, I felt comfortable in my own skin.
Now, I don’t. Yuck. It all started because I found this book titled: Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy. Darn it! I believed the author when she said, “Girlfriend. Stop exercising! Don’t worry about it. Hey, I’m your girlfriend and I’ve had five babies. I know what I’m talking about. As soon as you get that little baby out of you, you can return to exercise. Really. I mean it.” That day I stopped. And I never “returned to it” like she promised I would. Sorry, girlfriend, but buying your book destroyed my life. Well, okay, so I’m exaggerating a little.
After dropping my fifteen-year-old exercise habit, I couldn’t find my way back to it. Oh, not too long ago I picked up tennis again. And, well, that most certainly helped a little. But playing tennis two to three times a week (or less) will not do anything for weight loss or maintenance efforts. I know. I’ve tried it for five years!
Did I tell you I threw out my scales last month? I decided ... NO MORE. Actually, my dearly departed scales stopped working. Don't laugh; I never owned the digital kind. Ha! It had actually reached the point where I could trick myself and adjust the setting a little. “See, I still weigh what I did last week. See?”
But at the moment I stepped on my broken-down scales, I had an epiphany. And girlfriend here’s what You should have been telling me nine years ago. Why weigh? Who cares what you weigh? Weighing makes NO sense. None.
Let’s get real. When you try on your clothes in the morning, aren’t you more concerned with how they fit? Weight is such an arbitrary thing. Line up three women weighing 165 pounds and you’ll have a range of sizes (height, width, muscle mass). It makes much more sense to focus on the size you are comfortable wearing. Doesn’t it?
So when did I most enjoyed wearing clothes? Yep, that would be nine years ago—and two sizes smaller than I am now. My scale had no way of telling me what size I felt comfortable wearing. So, I chunked it and swore NOT to replace it. And I haven't. The only obstacle left to face is at the doctor's office! Well, look out Doc! I'm going to throw a fit if you insist that I weigh. I started playing tough about three years ago (at the doctor’s office). But it was all talk. Never have I refused to weigh even though I practiced refusing all the way to the weigh-in checkpoint. Why did a doctor’s scale bother me more than my own scale? Are you kidding me? The doctor’s scale lies! Always! The doctor’s scale added five to seven pounds to my frame. Well, I’m not playing anymore—not this time sisters. I don’t do scales anymore. And Doc, if you want to know how I’m doing weight wise, then ask what size clothes I wear—see if I’m wearing the same size I did last year. Heck, check the label when I’m not looking if you have to.
Now, just so you know, this tale does have a happy ending. Well, at least I’m heading towards one. Obviously, I still wear a size I don’t like. So, what am I doing about it? Besides playing tennis one to three times weekly, I’ve added walking to my routine. Lordy, why didn’t I think of this sooner? It’s so easy to do. Cheap too. I can’t tell you why I suddenly decided to do something more, but I did. I’m ready to take charge and make changes. Those changes involve regular exercise and attention to what I’m eating. Dieting doesn’t work for me. It makes me mad and angry. I feel deprived and frustrated. Funny, that I did something on and off for nine years that made me feel bad. Anyway, I’m not dieting. Instead I’m focusing on making healthier choices—like Wynonna. There is nothing off limits—just a time and a place and a portion.
I have no idea if I’ll ever return to my previous size. This time I’m not making myself empty promises. What I am promising myself is that I’ll be in better shape and health. And that’s a promise I’m planning to keep.
While reading the article about Wynonna, I had to laugh. Turns out Wynonna chunked her scale too. She wants to start a scale-chunking movement. I like this woman. Mine is already gone. What about yours? Join me! We are sisters. We are Queens! We are scale-less. Come on. Why wait? Throw that sucker away.
It feels too good!
www.queenpower.com
posted by Allyn Evans at 3:10 PM
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