It’s now official. In writing. By an M.D. I’m obese. How did I get here? Prior to turning 40, I took advantage of some sort of metabolic sweet spot and lost about 30 pounds, getting down to an unheard of size six. After discarding all of my fat clothes, I stayed a size six for about ten minutes. Evidently, I forgot to learn about maintenance.
I have tried going back to Weight Watchers. Attended meetings, stepped on the scale every week. I lost about ten pounds and then plateaued, lost patience, and put all ten pounds back on. (Plus a few more for good measure.) My GP suggested that women of a certain age have great success with the South Beach diet. So my husband and I tried that together. No carbs. No sugar. Crap. Next to booze, those are our favorite things. Oh, and no booze. We each lost about ten pounds, plateaued, had a drink, and put the pounds back on. (Plus a few more for good measure.)
I’ve tried combining diets. For example, breakfast would be South Beach approved, while lunch might meet the points standard for Weight Watchers. Surprisingly, that did not work at all. I’ve lately been trying the My Fitness app on my phone. I log in what I eat, and the walks from Map My Walk are automatically fed in, allowing for more calories. Unfortunately, my walks are usually next to a four-legged creature and every time we get going at a good clip, he’s got to stop to pee on some attractive blade of grass, or root around for a goldfish cracker that fell out of someone’s stroller last week. I try dragging him along, thinking about all the extra calories I could eat if only we could improve our pace. But a neighbor accused me of walking the dog to within an inch of his life, so I’ve stopped that practice.
So this week I consulted with an endocrinologist, hoping that there might be some magic bullet she might prescribe that will cause the pounds to fall off as I enjoy a cocktail. I’m awaiting some test results and am very optimistic about the follow up appointment as she hinted that there are some medicines that might be helpful for weight loss. A dear friend with a good data pan filled me in on all the possible side effects of these drugs as we walked our dogs yesterday. She sounded just like the end of the drug commercials on TV where the announcer, in a hushed voice, tells you that the miracle drug they’ve just touted could cause gangrene, stroke, or uncertain death. I hate that.
Until my follow-up, when the doctor will hopefully tell me I couldn’t possibly lose weight with my underactive thyroid, I will continue to ponder my options…over a cocktail, which might go really well with some nachos.