I’ve struggled with my weight since I was about 14 years old. At 14, I was 5 feet 7 inches tall (the height I am now) and when I weighed in at the varsity sports physical (held in the library in front of everyone), I was 150 lbs. I’ve never been a skinny waif, but I was never considered “fat” either. I was athletic and muscular and well, big-boned! Nevertheless, the shock on the athletic director’s face when she saw how much I weighed was enough to make me cry!
Since then, I’ve dieted and exercised and over-dieted and over-exercised. I’ve had seven babies and been pregnant with two others (for a brief shining moment), and so have had the hormonal and weight changes that go along with that. I’ve never been extremely happy with my body, but I’ve never been so unhappy either that I’m willing to starve or have some kind of eating disorder.
I’ve recently lost two pants sizes. I have no idea how much weight I’ve lost because I don’t own a scale. But I definitely needed to lose some, because I was wearing a pants size that I’ve never had to wear before! Rather than starve myself and sign up for a gym (I hate to spend money on stuff like that), I decided to take a more God-given approach.
First, I really hate to exercise. I don’t mean that I like to sit around all day, but I like my exercise to have a purpose. When we lived in Vermont, I used to stack wood and carry wood into the house and haul water down to animals. I lived on the side of the hill, so even getting to the mailbox was exercise. I live in the city now and still have a large garden that needs hoeing and weeding, but the other activity simply isn’t there. So I had to adjust.
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