The Mother Load

Sarah's pants are falling down!
Falling down!
Falling down!
Sarah's pants are falling down!
And yet, she still wears them!

I've reached that uncomfortable point in my weight loss journey.  You know the one.  I'm "between sizes."  The pants that used to be snug despite being a larger size than any I've ever worn are now inching their way down my hips every time I move.  They're baggy and bulky and are doing nothing for my slowly slimming figure. 

So, why am I still wearing them?  Because the next size down is too small.  The baggy size is where I've been.  The too-tight size is where I'm going (for a little while), but there is no size in the world that will fit where I am.  I am woman without a size, and this is where I sometimes give up.

I should clarify that I can put on the smaller size and even zip them up.  It's just that when I do that, I end up with an unfortunate case of "muffin top."  This is not the yummy muffin top spoken of on Seinfeld.  We're talking about the flabby/poofy hangover of gut seen so often in unfortunately dressed teen girls.

Not willing to look like a 16 year old in a pair of skinny jeans that are anything but flattering to her body, I choose to wear the baggy pants instead. I'd rather constantly pull up my clothes than walk around looking like I'm heading to a water slide and put my inner tube underneath my shirt for convenience.

The problem with being between sizes is that it's very hard to feel good in your clothes.  When you don't feel good in your clothes, you start to think, Well, I used to be fatter, but at least my clothes fit.  Suddenly, a pizza or a big plate of spaghetti start sounding really good.  Well, they always sound good.  The thought of actually consuming them is what gets more attractive.

If I give up now, I can eat what I want AND my clothes will fit!  Hello, no brainer!

So, what am I doing to avoid giving up while I'm here in the in-between?  I'm giving it some thought.  One thing I'm realizing is that while cardio work is shrinking me down overall, a bit of spot work on my core would go a long way toward getting me into the smaller pants.  But that would involve sit-ups and crunches, and I guess I wasn't aware that people actually do those willingly.

I kid.  I actually love pilates and would probably see a benefit in many aspects of my life if I started doing them again.  It's just never fun to start doing pilates again after a long break.  You hear the video host say, "And now it's time for the hundred!" and you say, "You meant the twenty, right?"  You get through as much of it as you can, flapping your arms indiscriminately and feeling like your abs will spontaneously combust after about 15 seconds.  All the while, skinny/peppy pilates host is smiling away, her face the picture of serenity as if she's doing nothing more than drinking lemonade on a summer evening. 

When I get to my breaking point, much sooner than I hope, I lie on the floor, defeated, and I make snide comments about her hair or her outfit until she decides she's done.  Then we move on to the next round of exercise torture and repeat the process.

But that's just what it's like when I start core work after a break.  Pretty soon, I'm able to pop in the DVD and float down into position, all my muscles working in concert, the picture of athletic grace, if not as thin as the woman on the TV.  When she asks me if I feel good at the end of my workout, I put on my best look of lemonade serenity and say, "Yes! I did!"  When she tells me to "reward" myself with a big glass of water, I roll my eyes and remind her I'm not doing this for water.

I'm doing it for the jeans.