My Big, Fat Weight Loss Campaign: Part 6—Things Are Odd

In the past, when I tried to lose weight, I ran or walked (when I got older) and dieted. This usually resulted in a slow but steady loss. This time, it’s different. I’ve lost many inches and I have dropped TWO dress sizes—but I’ve lost relatively little weight. Figuring by my scale, I have lost around 23 pounds since the first of February. That might be more than two dress sizes for some people, but I am 5’10”, and 25 pounds usually equals one dress size for me.

So what is going on here? According to 8fit.com, one cubic inch of muscle weighs about 15-20% more than one cubic inch of fat. But by volume, a pound of fat will take up more space than a pound of muscle. I looked this up because everyone says, “muscle weighs more than fat.” It has been a regular chorus in my life as I bitch and moan about not having lost more weight.

Anyway, It’s my own fault. When I started this whole thing, I was stumped and in a downward spiral. I wasn’t exercising because my right knee was too painful. I was gaining weight. I didn’t know how to fix it. I am one of those people who has lived inside their heads for an entire life, hoping that the body would perhaps take care of itself.

Faced with the reality of my situation, and acknowledging that I needed help to fix it, I joined a local health club and hired a personal trainer. Over the past four and a half months, I have tried to get to the gym every day to do cardio on a recumbent bike that doesn’t stress my knees. I don’t make it every day, but I do most days. I worked my way up on the recumbent bike from a quarter of a mile to my current ride of four miles.

Now that I am more familiar with the machines at the club, I also use some of those, and/or use the dumbbells. There are a couple of machines I don’t use unless Zach (my trainer) is there because they involve grasping something and then sitting down. Way down. I’m too nervous about hurting my knee to try that—I need Zach to do the lowering part after I am seated.

And then there are the physical therapy exercises, aimed at improving the musculature around my bad knee and my left shoulder (which also left the planet and needs replacing). Doing a full round of PT usually takes about an hour. So, what with one thing and another, I am exercising more every day than I ever have before. 

The result is that I have put on a lot of muscle. I don’t know how much, but enough to offset quite a bit of fat loss. Muscle burns energy, so adding muscle helps to burn more fat–something else people tell me all the time.

I have continued following Weight Watchers throughout this process. I have never been able to just diet and lose weight. Or just exercise and lose weight. No, I have to do both, which I suspect is true of most people. (Friday nights are splurge nights, though. Sanity is also important.)

And yes, I feel a lot better. I have more energy, my balance is better, and I am moving better. The only question I have is, will my orthopedic surgeon still want me to lose another 27 pounds before he will do the surgery? Or will he see the muscle gain as part of the equation? I’m seeing him this week, so I’ll find out.

[The painting is “The Persistence of Meowmory,” by Salvador Dali and Svetlana Petrova.]

My Big, Fat Weight Loss Campaign: Part 5—Is That a Light at the End of the Tunnel? Or Is It That Damn Train Again?

My apologies to the artist. This was uncredited, but if anyone knows who the artist is–other than “hir”– I would like
to acknowledge them.

It has now been 15 weeks since the start of my “Big, Fat Weight-Loss Campaign.”

In 15 weeks, I have lost only two pounds. Despite taking Ozempic for six of those weeks. Despite exercising almost every day. Despite the physical therapy, personal trainer, and health club membership (which I am actually using this time). Despite being on Weight Watchers and sticking to it except for Friday dinners.

THIS is why I hate trying to lose weight. It feels like I have to claw it off, ounce by ounce. I only lose in tiny increments, and only if I work at it all the time. That’s why I gave up in the first place— losing weight feels like a full-time job with no salary or benefits. Or promotions. Or stock options. And definitely no holiday party.

I will stop whining now. I wrote a much longer whine, but realized no one would want to read it. Here is what I decided: Ozempic didn’t help and it gives me red, itchy rashes. So, Ozempic is not my knight in shining armor; I need to rescue myself. I stopped taking Ozempic two weeks ago. No change in weight.

But if I am honest about it, there have been significant changes:

  • I dropped a dress size. 
  • I can make it up the 32 steps to my front door without panting (much)
  • My balance is better
  • I don’t get as tired
  • I lost at least five inches around my waist 

I am at a loss to explain how all this could happen without losing any weight, but people keep telling me that muscle weighs more than fat. That’s fine, but I don’t think my surgeon is going to accept dress size as proof that I am ready for knee replacement surgery. And the sense of disappointment when I weigh myself weekly does drag me down.

I don’t see any remedy except to keep on keeping on. I will up my exercise regimen. I have had a glass of wine or two if I had enough WW points to spare at the end of the day. Maybe that is the problem? Can you eliminate all pleasure from your life and still want to live? I guess I’ll find out.

But before I get back to it, I am wrapping myself around a BLTA sandwich, some chips, and a lot of red wine.