A Weight Loss Journey

jiggly jello

I went to my family practice doctor for a med check last week.  I hate having to go there every few months.  Sometimes it seems like it’s a way to get the insurance to pay for another office visit, but I know that’s really not true.  My doc cares about me and wants me to be healthy. 

We were sitting in the office chatting about her divorce, my swollen ankle and disturbing blood test results, when I happened to mention that I was still thrashing around with my on-going fight to get rid of the weight that has followed me around since I was in elementary school, and is now relentlessly piling on around my waist, like a wax figure that’s melting and puddling up on top of a belt.

She paused, glanced at me and casually mentioned that trying to lose weight after you pass 40 years of age is next to impossible.

What!

What kind of a thing is that for a doctor to say to her hopeful, optimistic patient?  Now that I’m well past 40, is there any hope that I will ever be at my normal weight?  Do I really have to resign myself to being a chubby, happy gramma with wildly swinging flaps of skin where her triceps ought to be, and giant stretch-waist pants?

“Say it ain’t so, Joe.”

Most of what I’ve read tells me that the way to lose weight is to tip your muscle-to-fat ratio in favor of the muscle.  That generally raises your metabolism  by burning more calories all day long.  That’s my plan, and I’m sticking to it.  Otherwise, I’ll be relegated to surviving on less than a thousand calories per day . . . forever.  I don’t think so.

I’ve been learning about human growth hormone supplements lately.  I plan to use HGH to build lean muscle, rev up my metabolism, and drop some of the wiggly stuff.

More later.