February 17: The Smell of Smaller

            The running made me do it.  It couldn't be helped.  I had to go to the store and buy smaller running pants!  Lately running has been not only about enduring increased exercise, but also enduring annoyingly-slipping down-capris.  A devout morning person, I have no wish to jog by the light of the moon, nor to inflict said moon on those nice people who ride the stationary bikes behind me. 

            Yesterday my Faithful Companions and I went to the store where I bought not just one, but two (count 'em, two!) pairs of capris (they were on clearance) in the next smaller size.  I bought smaller sports bras and a smaller t-shirt, too.  Since I don't try on clothes at the store (fluorescent lights and other nightmares), I just hoped & trusted they would fit.

            When I got dressed in my fancy new duds this morning, I noticed a New Clothes Smell; it was more intoxicating than New Car Smell.  See, in the ups and downs of (cue the music) My Weight Loss Journey, I stopped buying new clothes for myself.  I didn't want to invest money in Fat Clothes – that would be accepting that I was, and always would be, Fat.  

            So whenever I needed something to wear, I'd go straight to the thrift shop.  I could say it was responsible shopping (recycling) or that thrift stores are chic.  But the fact is that in one respect, I was ashamed and felt worthless.

            All that's changed.

            I'm now almost 50 pounds (and many emotions) lighter than I was at my heaviest weight.  I recently began delving into what I call "fresh weight" – each new low number I reach is one I haven't seen since passing it on the way up the scale.  It's an awesome feeling.  I recently read Shauna Reid's The Amazing Adventures of Diet Girl.  In it, she measures her weight loss not by pounds, but by years.  It's a neat idea.  If I look at it that way, I can say that I've lost 4 years of fat so far.

            As my mind, spirit, and body have become stronger, I've begun out-shrinking my clothes.  My size 26 jeans are cut up and waiting to be made into a quilt.  My size 24 clothes are at the thrift shop, and I'm working my way down through the 22s.

            How's this for a good ending: Right now I'm pushing 50 (pounds lost), working my way out of my 20s, and I still have a couple years before 40!  It's taken me many moons and (I'll say it again) tons of mental, emotional, and physical work.  But as dear Cybil Shepherd taught me, no matter what it is: from new clothes to self respect: "I'm worth it!"  And it smells good.

 

~Karin