I am exhausted today. We have students staying with us for a few weeks from our church in Atlanta, and one of them is waiting for her lost luggage to be delivered to our house. Since I’m the French-speaking contact, I got a call last night around 9 PM saying that they would deliver the luggage between 10 and midnight. I kind of balked a bit, but they promised to be there closer to ten.
At midnight I called and they told me they’d contact the driver to see where he was and that I should call back in a bit. At 12:15 they told me he would arrive in “une petite heure” – an hour or so. So I said no. I don’t want luggage delivered in the middle of the night. They promised to call the driver and let him know, but it was still after 1 before I could fall asleep.
At 1:46 AM my phone rang. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes!”
Can you believe that? Doesn’t that just beggar belief? Of course I told him no you will not. I will not have luggage delivered to my house at 2 AM. On top of everything else, my husband is out of town - though that has nothing to do with the absurdity of their idea of customer service.
I was so looking forward to taking a nap today. It was all I could think about. I planned on napping after I brought my son to have lunch at McDonalds, just the two of us. (We’re trying to start spending individual time with each of our kids). While there, I got a call from the service, saying they would like to come this afternoon. I gave them an availability between 2 and 4, at which time I needed to pick up my kids from school. I was hoping they’d come closer to 2 so that I could nap.
It’s nearly 4:00 and they are still not here.
My irritation over this inane behaviour is one thing. But because I’m so exhausted I have really overdone it on eating today. I had been avoiding sweets and coffee for weeks, but I had it ALL today. And I had McDonalds. Really, I don’t think I ate a single healthy thing all day.
I think it didn’t help that - despite the healthy changes I’ve been implementing for weeks now – I haven’t really lost all that much weight. I mean, very little weight. My metabolism sucks. And it didn’t get me motivated to keep going. Now, of course I will get a good night’s sleep, and pick back up again tomorrow because what choice do I have?
But this pulling up of my bootstraps to exercise or lose weight, only to fall down before I can see any kind of results has been my status quo for thirteen years. Nearly as long as I’ve been married. It doesn’t help that I’ve been on anti-depressants for twenty years, which both slow the metabolism and give strong cravings for sugary carbs. It doesn’t help that any muscle tone I once had from swimming and running is completely gone; and every time I try to change that - past injuries, fatigue, the busyness of being a WAHM mom, injuries from excess weight . . . the dog . . . make it easier to allow a few days to go by before trying again. Or before even beginning in the first place.
So year after year go by, and my habits remain unchanged.
I think the problem is that I haven’t surrendered to my reality. I haven’t surrendered to the fact that I am 44 years old, am overweight with little muscle tone, and have the metabolism of an eighty-year old. That last one is sort of an estimate.
I still think I should be able to eat whatever I want. And although I’ve always struggled a little bit with weight, it was always a ten – maybe 20 – pound difference, and the smallest effort on my part (stop eating entire boxes of cookies) would show results almost immediately. That is most decidedly no longer the case. And I don’t want to have to change my life . . . forever. It seems so black and white and sort of empty.
I hate making my weight-loss efforts public. For one thing, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep doing it long-term and I’m afraid of looking foolish. For another thing, I love to cook, and eat, and host, and spoil people with food. I love to introduce new foods to people, and make the most mouth-watering dishes my guests have ever tasted.
That usually involves cream.
Probably the hardest part of it all is convincing myself that there is a better way to fill the emptiness inside . . . when the thing that is empty is not my stomach - but my heart. Yeah that. I haven’t surrendered to the fact that it could even be possible.
So what about you. Is there anything you haven’t surrendered to? Or if you did have something, and you faced it squarely, how did you go about it?
Also, any tips for improving metabolism after forty?
If you’re wondering about the luggage, I got a call at 4 PM on the dot.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes!”