Fat Chance

I was a scrawny kid. You know, one of those that could eat their weight in chocolate and cheeseburgers and not gain any poundage.

Not anymore. My super metabolism decided to hang up its cape, I guess. They tell me it’s all part of this middle-aged thing…eat just like you always did, and gain weight anyway. That’s where I find myself these days.

Even more disturbing is what has happened to my cholesterol! Would you believe my triglycerides have almost tripled in two years? I’m in a state of shock. It’s time for an overhaul.

Diet and exercise. That’s what the doctor ordered, as she should. Unfortunately, those two words hold about as much thrill to me as the words “root canal” or “pap smear.” In my sugar-craving mind, diet and exercise = self-imposed torture. I would love to completely ignore the good doc’s prescription, but will I?

Fat chance. I have two little boys and a hubby who are counting on me being around for awhile, so I need to take care of my health. I respect my doctor. She’s looking out for me.

I’m looking for some good recipes that are low fat, low cholesterol. Anybody have anything that tastes better than cardboard? I’m thinking I need to learn how to use whole foods and cut back on prepackaged (read: easy) foods. The dietary stuff is the hardest part for me.

As for exercise, I have dusted off my “Dancing with the Stars Cardio Dance” DVD. I have been spending my weekday mornings doing the cha-cha, samba, and jive. Not well mind you, but I am working up a sweat.

So in a nutshell, I’m in over my head. I need to completely unlearn everything I’ve been doing for the last 30 some years. Want to jump in and unlearn with me? How about joining me for a cha-cha workout? I assure you, you can’t butcher that dance any worse than I already have. Think I’ll be dancing in public anytime soon?

Fat chance.

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Hormones

Hormones. I ‘m told they’re necessary, but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re the bodily equivalent of falling down a manhole into a sewer trench. You’re walking along, minding your own business, when WHAM!—off you go into a pile of muck.

Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. A greeting card commercial comes on the TV and you burst into tears. Hormones. Someone eats the last chocolate fudge bar and you go ballistic. Hormones. One of the fellas leaves the seat up and you discover it in the middle of the night in an I’ve-gotta-pee-but-I’m-still-half-asleep stupor. OK, that one’s not really hormones. That’s a heads-are-gonna-roll-in-the-morning-if-I-don’t-kill-you-in-your-sleep-first tirade waiting to happen. I pity the fool that brings that one on himself. But I digress.

Yesterday was a particularly hormonal day for me. Thankfully, the Lord nudged me out of my funk enough to get my fanny down to Bible study. It was the introductory session for the Beth Moore study, Esther: It’s Tough Being a Woman. Boy, was that the prescription I needed. God always knows exactly what to give you for what ails you. Nothing like a few good laughs with some sisters in Christ to dry up the tears.

Oh, and guess what Beth talked about in that initial video? HORMONES!

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