Dress Pants Drama

You know I tell you stories about me in hopes that if you see yourself in them, you'll know you're not alone, right? 

I want you to know what's in my head, in my heart and in my ass ... so that you won't be surprised by or worried about or fearful of anything on your journey. 

And every once in a while, I need just get something off my chest or I need to talk about it so that I'm no longer afraid of it. In those times, YOU'RE helping ME. 

So here's a story you might be familiar with. 

It's the story of bigger pants. 

I started my new job last week with a trip to Florida. Monday was the first day in the office. Although I knew the environment was billed as "business casual" and my boss wore jeans, I wanted to make the right impression and err on the side of more, if you know what I mean. 

So Sunday night, the search for dress pants was on. 

Do I have dress pants? Lord, yes. But I haven't worn the normal, long, church kind in a long time. I've been hanging out in cigarette pants (ankle-length) during the summer, opting for dresses more than pants and adding in a bunch of leggings (No Pants Thursday). 

I pulled out my old stand-bys ... size 6 and black ... and slipped them on. 

Ugh. 

Could I zip 'em? Yes. Did my butt and thighs look like sausages? Yes. Were they wearable? 

Hell to the NO. 

These were the same pants that were sliding off my hips at my dad's visitation nearly two years ago. I remember thinking that I needed to retire them then because they were just too big. 

What a difference 12 pounds makes. 

In the old days, 12 wouldn't have showed much. In this body, 12 matters a lot. 

And so I started trying on a bunch more stuff I hadn't worn in a while. I found some size 6 cords that fit. I found two size 4s that clearly did not. I found some size 8 jeans that work, but I don't need jeans. 

I had to go to the closet in the spare bedroom to dig out two pair of size 10s for this week. 

I wore the black pair Monday and the brown pair today. They're plenty roomy, and the truth is I wouldn't buy them that big, but they're what I've got right now and they're not remotely close to falling off. 

I gotta admit, it's a bit of a bummer. 

But it's also a good lesson. 

Lazy eating will catch up with you. You can't out-exercise bad eating. It's that simple. 

The good news is that I'm back on the way down with this 24-day challenge thing. I've put the brakes on my lazy eating and am doing better, making a new, better habit ... again. 

Best of all, I "caught" it before it went too far. I didn't put on those pants and give up. I didn't throw in the towel. Once again, I didn't beat myself up. 

My expectations are realistic. There are going to be good days and bad days. Good months and bad months. My weight is going to fluctuate. My exercise regiment is going to change. My eating is going to waver because there's just no such thing as perfect. 

If I acknowledge that going in, KNOW it, accept it, I can ensure that when it does happen, I don't panic. 

No panic. No demoralizing self-pummeling. Just acceptance. Understanding. And resolve. 

Losing weight isn't a "thing" that's over with one day when you hit a goal. 

In fact, losing weight isn't even the "thing" you start with. 

Your goal is to be the healthiest you possible. 

Which means eating right most of the time. Exercising enough to be fit and strong. Living every day in the way that's good for you. 

Every day. Forever. 

Because it's GOOD for you. 

When you do that, your old pants fit.

Wouldn't it be awesome to have to retire them because they're out of style instead of too small?