Waxing waistline, mine

I found with horror that my waistline was waxing fast.  As I was getting ready to go out to the opera not long ago, I put on a nice grayish ankle length skirt to match the blouse and it didn’t fit.  I tried to pull up the zipper by holding the breath to depress the stomach as best as I could but it was in vain; my waistline was almost two inches in excess of the skirt’s waistband. I pulled out another suitable maxi; and it didn’t fit either.  I tried one more, and that was no good, too.  I didn’t have any more time to waste.  So, I took off the blouse and found a loose one-piece dress to wear and went out.

All my life I was slim; in my young days I was skinny.  I am still slender except around the girth.  Three years ago, when I cleared the house in Swarthmore and moved to the apartment in New York, I had to reduce my wardrobe to a third or less. In the process I tried on all the skirts and dresses, long and short, to eliminate everything that I could not fit in.  It was, therefore, appalling to discover that any item in the closet ceased to fit after mere three years.  In fact, I could wear these skirts a year ago; I remember having worn them to the opera a season ago.  But I had no choice; there was no chance they could be altered.  I deposited them in the shopping bag of clothing for the Goodwill and wondered how many other pieces of clothing have become too small.  It was deplorable.  It was too depressing to try and find out.

My waist, of course, did wax and wane occasionally but only slightly so that it sufficed to reposition the button to extend the waistband or, once in a while, tuck it in a tiny bit with a safety pin, never more than a half inch in or out.  It was disconcerting.

A few days later, however, I had an epiphany.  If the skirt couldn’t be modified, there is an alternative.  I could modify my waist. 

I never had to watch my diet until I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes 14 years ago.  I learned to cut down on sweets and starches and eat a lot of raw vegetables.  I have a feast of a small serving of ice cream no more than once or twice a year; I avoid desserts and never developed a habit for snacks between meals, or even a taste for them.  I never liked fast food; I don’t cultivate soft drinks. I never consumed a large quantity of red meat, or meat in general. Two years ago, I suffered a gastric hemorrhage, and I started to abstain from the wine at the table. I do some exercises every morning -- twenty times each of stand-on-your-toes-and-stretch, touch-your-toes, and raise-your-arms with feet apart.  I walk up and down three flight of stairs for my apartment except when I have both hands full of grocery and other stuff.  Living in New York, I get plenty of stair exercises almost every day, going up and down the subway stations. So, what else can I cut out?

I found plenty.  I could, first of all, stop having a midnight snack before going to bed, which I got into the habit of having, feeling I needed it since my bedtime was normally between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m.  I used to have cookies with tea (decaf since last year) and kept a supply of cookies though I had only a few each time; or else I had crackers with peanut butter or cheese, or assorted nuts. I could start cultivating crudités -- carrots, celery, and broccoli, if I had to have a snack.  I could also stop having, except sporadically, bagels, Danish pastries, muffins, and croissants, and yes, pizza, too; I never liked doughnuts much anyway.  I have pasta once a week at most but I could reduce the serving size.  I shall climb the apartment stairs unless I am carrying a load almost too heavy to lift.  I got started on this regimen five days ago; and I already feel a difference. I could do some more exercises specifically designed to reduce the waist. 

Dieting prompted me to get a bathroom scale, and got a digital one.  It arrived yesterday, and promptly I weighed myself.  I weighed only 116.6 pounds, naked, this morning.  So, I’m not fat -- no old age spread.  It’s just the waistline that has been waxing and it needs to be willing to wane. I’m keeping the tight skirts too tight to wear.

*******

PS. Controlling the midnight snack or skipping it, I was successful in reducing the weight down to 114.6 in two weeks.  Four weeks after that, I was down to 112.2, and the waist measured three inches less.  Pasta, I learned, can add a pound quickly.  Mid-January, I was up to 114.6, again.  Weighing every morning and observing my diet, I discovered that weight and waist are not exactly correlated.  Deep-breathing exercise has kept the waistline trim, and I am again wearing those skirts I could not fit in two months ago.

PPS. Writing in May, I record that the waistline discipline has been successful beyond expectation.  By mid-February, I was down to 110.2 pounds; from late March through April, I went further down to 107, and into May I weighed in the 105 range.  For a woman 5’4” high, even with light bones, this weight is perhaps too low; I could perhaps readjust my diet.  The good news is that my waistline has gone down four inches; it is now 28 inches, and good many skirts got too loose and I had to move the buttons.