I am of a certain age when I can no longer afford to ignore certain situations. At the moment, I am immersed in an eating and exercise plan, paring off the excess fluff that had accumulated here and there. I do this on a regular basis, every six months or so. Then, last night, while channel surfing, I landed on this program on PBS, a delightful woman gynecologist talking about her book on menopause, and in particular, the post menopausal time, which is my current era. Happy to note that I do a lot of the things she recommended, like take magnesium and fish oil and vitaminC. Need to add D to that mix now. And one thing she felt was vital was weighing yourself every day. Now, I threw away my scale in the move. It had gotten kind of grungy looking, and I really never liked it. It, or any like it, actually. But I saw the efficacy of this protocol. If I know what I should weigh when at fighting weight, then I could nip any incipient fluffiness in the bud! And that sounded like a good idea. It would also be a dandy incentive to keep butt in motion, year round. Having muscle attached to my bones lets me eat more and gain less. And I have to scrounge up my pedometer, which enjoyed a momentary popularity then got thrown into one of my many junk drawers. 10,000 steps a day. School should help a lot with that. Oh, and she said your waist should be less than 35 ins. (mine's 30 1/2) and your body mass index - ratio of height to weight, less than 25 (mine's 22.8). Truly, I rock!
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