So here we are again, wrapping up several months of feeding frenzy and wondering why our clothes are so tight.
Actually, reports of holiday weight gain are said to be exaggerated. Surveys show the average weight gain is 1 to 5 pounds.
According to FIY Living: “A small study of 82 college students found that average body weight did not change significantly between Thanksgiving and New Year’s at all. However, their body compositions did, resulting in an increase in their body fat as a total percentage of weight over the holiday period.
Since lean body mass contributes to an increased metabolism, and higher fat mass (especially in the belly area) contributes to increased risk of chronic diseases such as diabetes and heart disease, in theory, such a change in body composition could spell trouble if not corrected.”
For us, the eating marathon began last fall with great Oktoberfest dishes, and it continued through Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s. With weather that’s been colder than a disapproving mother-in-law’s glance, it’s tough not to lean on comfort food and even tougher to be motivated to use the elliptical for something other than to line dry bulky sweaters.
My skinny jeans are really tight, and I’m not a fan of my new muffin tops. (Gotta love those refrigerator repairman, hip-hugger style pants we have had to endure wearing and looking at others wearing over the past few years.)
Ah, but there is light at the bottom of the fudge container, if we just go back to regular exercise, eating and drinking in moderation and preparing simple, healthy meals.
Here’s hoping if I lay off some of the goodies, the numbers on the scale will go down faster than a waxed sled on a toboggan run. But that’s easier said than done! There’s Valentines Day just around the corner, and those orange cream-filled chocolates are certainly yummy!
A friend sent me a poem (author unknown) that’s a perfect lament to the season’s dilemma. Here it is:
’Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales, there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”
As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt —
I said to myself, as I only can
“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!’’
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
’Til all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore —
But isn’t that just what January is for?
Deb Drinkwalter is a Lockport resident. Her column appears every Sunday. Contact her at d.drinkwalter@yahoo.com.
Deb Drinkwalter
DRINKWALTER: ’Twas the Month After Christmas
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