Sunday, October 26, 2014

Gray haired weight watcher

Have you been to Walmart lately? I have. It sure seems like a lot of people using those electric carts are unable to use a regular one because of their weight. I could be wrong. I'm surely wrong in some cases. But it makes me wonder as a formerly overly obese person. If you don't move, you don't lose weight. You can use a buggy as a walker if you need to.

On the other hand, when I was super obese and had bad knees, I couldn't walk through the airport after a while. For the first year after I had my left knee replaced, I used a cane. But I did get the wheelchair people to help me out. So who am I to say?

Here I am almost 60 and I move better than I have in the last 30 years. Bad knees, weight, and general out-of-shapeness were all working against me. It was a tough time to be me.

As I've aged, though, I worry less about what people think of me. Maybe that's the way the Walmart people and wheelchair people who are simply overweight feel. With less family responsibility and work being an almost piece of cake, I can focus a little bit more on me. I still have family, but the kids are pretty independent and my husband asks very little of me. We both give to one another because it's a natural way to be with someone you've been married to for 38 years as of yesterday. I don't zig when he zags as much as I used to; now we sort of are in step with one another, but I digress.

I always said that when I turned 50, I didn't give a fuck anymore, but I don't think that's 100% true. My 50s have been a time of major change, from fat to almost fit, from not walking well to walking wherever and whenever I want, and just general okayness about life in general. I've made the decision to grow old with good humor and avoid negativity at every turn.

So, there's a little ramble for you. I'm on the right path with Weight Watchers/Primal eating. The foods are pretty much the same as with paleo, but now I count. I'm determined to take off the last of the weight I want to lose and keep it there. I want my funky clothes!

Last thing. I saw an older woman at Fresh Market the other day. She had a caretaker with her. She was using a walker and appeared to have a tough time with mobility. But you know what? She had nice clothing, sensible shoes, a fun hairdo, and seemed to be okay in her own skin. We can all only hope to be in that situation when our time comes. I could read pride all over her. I want to be her when I'm her age.

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