Note: avoid this entry if you have a problem with the requisite female blogger's musings on weight and body image.
So, today, I was wandering around the apartment, wondering what that funny stiff feeling was in my lower back. I couldn't bend backwards easily and felt, well, stiff.
I figured it was muscle pain. Then I put my hands on the small of my back and realized that it was my hips keeping me from bending over backwards.
At 117 pounds, the recommended weight for my height, I am skeletal. At 130, I'm just fine. At 150-something, where I am now, I am not as motile as I'd like to be. Not entirely sessile, mind you, but not terribly flexible.
Plus, I'm getting winded walking up the three flights of stairs to my apartment.
Plus plus, the two male nurses on the floor who are close to me in height weigh eight and eighteen pounds less than me respectively.
Time to start shutting the pie-hole and getting back on the treadmill.
This is a depressing prospect. For most of my life, the trouble's been to keep weight on. In times of stress I simply burned off anything I might've gained in happy times and kept a fairly even balance the rest of the time. Now it's looking like the Dreaded Mid-Thirties Metabolic Slowdown has hit. The fact that it's hard not to eat late at night when I don't get home until eight and that it's hard to get to the gym most nights doesn't help.
I thought it was bad six months ago. I was wrong. It's worse now.
Requisite musings on weight and body image might become as much of a routine here as Blog O' The Morning! is. Don't worry. I'll warn you before I mope.