Friday, June 10, 2011

I can eat whatever I want and not lose weight. The converse, however, is not true.

A few weeks ago, I read something on the internet (I know, what a great source of facts!) which made me think that perhaps all this dieting I'm doing (a good year or two after I declared that I would never diet again) had put me into starvation mode.  I was inclined to agree, because A) I wasn't losing any weight, and B) I was tired all the time.  So I upped my intake per the recommendation of Anonymous Person on the Internet with Convincing Equations.  This put me at 1800 calories a day.  In theory, this was my maintenance amount, and any exercise I did would cause me to lose weight.

You can probably guess where this is going.

I haven't lost.  An effing.  Ounce.

I mean, I haven't gained weight either, and that's nice.  But I haven't proven ANYTHING.  At this point my options are 1) eat less, hope the weight loss thing happens after all, or 2) eat more, finally figure out exactly where the maintenance point is for me.  Although truthfully?  I'm having difficulty eating 1800 calories worth of food a day.  A lifetime of dieting has not put me in a place where I can eat a ton and feel comfortable (in any sense), unless I am getting insane amounts of exercise.

And with my stupid painful injury thingie, my exercise is not as insane as it should be for this time of year.  No running, no riding.  All I'm doing is walking and hiking and backpacking and yoga and weightlifting.  Psht.

I will say that this seems to be a nice break even point for me, energy wise.  I am not hitting big slumps.  It is nice to do whatever exercise I want and not feel like somebody needs to dig me a grave to fall into afterward.  But it would be even nicer if I had smaller thighs to show for it.

Stupid metabolism.  Stupid science.  Stupid mountains that are harder to go over when you weigh more.

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