Gravity is a Bitch

About ten years ago, I was working at a client site where I had to be around three 19 year old girls all day for three days.  I was 31 and it was an interesting three days.  To say the least, their topics of conversation -- hair, makeup, how to get some alcohol in the evenings, and boyfriends -- were not the most stimulating.  There came a point when they started discussing the weight they had gained during their first year of college.

"Oh my Gawd!  I put on, like ten pounds, since I graduated high school!  I had to buy new jeans and everything!"

"I know!  I never believed it when people said it's hard to lose weight when you get older, but it's true!" [she says as she stuffs a Baby Ruth in her mouth]

This is where I decided to participate.  Just like sitting around a campfire telling spooky stories, I dropped my voice to a low murmur to set the mood and wished that I had a flashlight to hold under my chins.  "Do you know what is even worse than those ten pounds that you gained?"  The three of them fell silent and six eyes focused on me as they all shook their heads, pony tails swinging.  I continued, "On the morning of your 30th birthday, you will find that everything on your body is one inch lower than it was the night before!"



The six eyes widened, "Really?" they squeaked in horrified unison.  I nodded quickly, "And each year after that, everything drops another inch!  Those 10 pounds look like 15 pounds!"  One of the girls rubbed her stomach, "What causes that?"  At this, I shook my head solemnly and let out a long sigh, "Gravity, ladies.  Gravity will become your biggest enemy."

At that point, I'd dropped a whole bunch of weight, so things were not inches lower simply because I'd lost weight.  Nonetheless, I had noticed a definite difference after 30.  Of course, exercising would help ... but.

And so, after Sunday morning's triumph of finding that I am 11 pounds lighter than I had estimated, I've been trying to figure out why I thought that I would weigh so much more.  I spent a lot of time lifting my shirt and looking at my pudge in the mirror yesterday.  "That pudge is not the same pudge I had when I weighed this much two years ago!"  My pants don't feel bigger.  I don't fit into the pants I wore when I weighed this much.  What the heck is going on?!

Then, this morning, I remembered ... Gravity.  "Oh fudge!"

I thought I was going to get away with not having to exercise much since I'd done no exercising to lose the 11 pounds in the first place -- just quit eating carbs.  I even cheated on the carb thing!

So this week my goal will be to tone down the diet sodas (that is, cut them out even though they are delicious) and caffeine (which will require a lot of headache medicine).  Next week the treadmill.

Gravity is a bitch.  Or ... Am I Gravity's Bitch?