Requiem For My Waistline
Ah, Tori’s waist, we hardly knew ye…
(NOT me.)
Let me start by saying that, yes, I realize I’m not a big hulking behemoth, and I am not writing this so everyone will feel compelled to leave a comment saying, “What are you talking about, you look fine!” I’m not delusional, I am so not one of those little eensy women that sit around and go, “Oh dear, my size zero pants are feeling a little tight, I”M SO FAT, YA’LL!!!” I realize I am normal sized for my age, I’m not obsessed with my weight, I don’t go on crazy diets. I don’t even own a set of scales because I only weigh myself when I’m pregnant. I’m not going to have lipo or a tummy tuck, or start running marathons or hire a personal trainer. I don’t sit around and lament my lost youth, or try to look like a teenager by dressing all age-inappropriately… (Well, ok, you’ve got me there.)
But having said all that… holy hell on a biscuit, what happened to my waist???!!!
(Again? NOT me.)
Don’t judge me harshly, anyone with half an ovary knows exactly what I’m talking about. I swear, I was minding my own business and then one day I looked down and the muffin-top, it runneth over! I don’t know what happened. The only word to describe it (and this is not a word I am fond of) is ‘pooch’. I have a ‘pooch’ where my waist used to be. I am poochy, I have poochitude, there is poochiness in my pants.
It’s very disturbing.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I have been a flat-belly at any time in my life since I was about 13 these last few years, but dang, this is different. This is like I am suddenly sporting a pre-menopausal flesh-colored fanny pack in front of me– yet I can’t seem to find the zipper so I can’t even put my lipstick, wallet and a couple of spare kleenexes in it! It seems to serve no useful purpose at all, since apparently there’s not a lovely baby hiding in there. Or a hamster. Or a million dollars. It just sits there, jiggling slightly when I move, silent mocking me as I pull on my yoga pants to go to my third Zumba class of the week as if to say, “Oh hi. Yep, still here!”
(Can’t even begin to tell you how much this is NOT ME.)
I think the culprit here is gravity. Well, that and the fact that I’m over 50. OK, barely, but still. And of course there’s the ever-popular genetics to blame it on, too. My mom and my sisters are all healthy and active, but I have heard them complain of The Pooch over the years. Mom would call it “my middle”, as in “My weight is OK, it’s just my middle.” Yeah, I get that now. I guess I will have to learn to graciously accept the fact that I will never again TUCK A SHIRT into low rider jeans and then actually ADD A BELT–just like I am learning to accept the fact that I seem to gain one chin every decade, kind of like rings on a tree.
(BTW, in spite of my protests about not being all vain and shallow, I’m serving notice here and now that if I ever do have any kind of cosmetic surgery it will definitely be chin-related! Oh yeah, I could probably lose like, two or three of them before anyone would even notice. Hold up, idea forming, here’s a thought– maybe I can get some plastic surgeon to offer his services for free and I could live-blog it! And put big ol’ Before and After pictures on my sidebar, right next to the Google ads! Any of you readers out there handy with a scalpel? Or a Flowbee?)
But I digress. Meanwhile, back at my pooch.
In conclusion, this post doesn’t have any big point to it (do they ever?) except to use my small public forum to officially announce that as A Woman Of A Certain Age, I feel I have earned the right to say that though yes, God looks at the inside and though yes, I am eternally grateful to be healthy and happy and living in a democracy, the bald-faced truth of it all is that certain aspects of the aging process just… suck.
That is all. **bows deeply**
“I got yer six-pack right here, baby!)
(Still NOT ME. Yet.)
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Tori, I swear, you’ve been reading my brain waves! You couldn’t have said it any better! And I totally agree…no plastic surgery, but IF ever, yep, that chin!
Well, now you have done gone talkin dirty, Girlfriend.
In every photo, I look as if I am star gazing, in an attempt to stretch out those three chins below my big smile. After that, it just gets worse. I pull a body, anybody’s body, in front of me in order to cut my size in half. And I hold a newspaper in front of my boobs…need I say more? The magic of the moment.
For two weeks now I have been dieting with two delightful friends. I thought that we would be suffering together, and encouraging one another to stay strong, bite the bullit….instead I find that they are weak and are biting everything except the bullit.
I know all about gravity and how everything moves downwards as you get older….but, honey, there has been a landslide at my house.
Tori, your writings are always so uplifting, so fun, so informative…but this one sucks.
I love you
…”instead I find that they are weak and are biting everything except the bullit.”
I would be one of those weaklings. But come on and be honest. How have you done? I’m headed for a deserted island with no fast food joint, and no grocery store. I will only be able to eat what I grow or catch, kill and cook, and there is a pretty good chance that is the only way I will lose the additional (mumble)lb. body that has been added to mine over the past 25 years.
Yeah, at 50 I thought I was fat, joined a popular program of the 70’s, started jogging and got into pretty good shape. Then I became 60. I only have one thig that is smaller. Ok, make that two.(smile)
Ok ladies, you are NOT making me feel better!
I want to hear, “Yeah, we felt that way too, but then miraculously when we turned oh, say 55 or so– it all went away! Boom! Flat stomach!”
I wish that I could help you Tori. No magic words will do the trick. The only thing that to offer is my understanding. Before I was married I was real skinny. 10+ years after I found myself going to the tailor to have my pants let out. His remark was “Good cook, easy life”.
That’s it Steve! I can get a (loose) t-shirt that says “REALLY good cook here”…
Tori baby – if you want to feel better, come and stand by me honey. Trust me, you will feel so much better. Believe me, I cannot remember the last time I had a waist the size of any of those pictures. And that’s the truth. Maybe when I was 4 or 5. But ever since I hit puberty, I blew up like a balloon and try as I might, my body it doth protest. I have an enormous “pooch” and would kill to be your size darling. Living with two parents that think that if it isn’t fried, it isn’t food does not help matters either. It is virtually impossible to diet in that household. My doctor still says that my thyroid is the problem (considering I have two aunts with hypothyroidism) but it refuses to show up in the bloodwork so hey, until it does, I have to diet and do the best I can.
What’s a waist ?
I recommend you guys start using your waist disposal
I hit 55 at a run last year. Trust me the only thing you have to look forward to is gravitas. Fight it Tori. Fight it to your last breath.
Women need a waist, so men have something to hold on to.
Last year a teen gave me his seat in the train. My daughter told me the look on my face was worth gold. But it happened in Japan, they probably cannot estimate a western euh appearance.
I liked your last picture, very zen.
Oh, what are you talking about…..you’re fine. Really.
I had this “requiem” for my lost waist and gorgeous good looks years ago. But every now and then, I have a little sad “memorial” service. I figure when my memory goes, I’ll be fine too.
Oh, okay! I never had “gorgeous” good looks. Just incredibly alright. See, my memory is going already.
Tori,
Craziest thing about it,and I am not quiet 50–but (like that commerical on TV, where the lady diets and the only thingthat gets smaller are her les and her boobs) no matter how much I diet–my pooch remains…I think I could be total skin and bones and I would still be poochy, but alas, that will never be known…I do enjoy a good meal every now and again.
Hm…You COULD have a doctor just chop the whole thing off, then, put it all in a ziploc, and then set it somewhere in your house. Then, you leave the state. Maybe you could dye your hair, change your name, and move to Alaska! Your family would not notice you were gone because PART of you is still there.
Hehe..(If I offended you in any way then, sorry….)
I LUV UR BLOG.
-Jess
Jess honey, you are just demented enough to totally fit into my family. You have my permission to marry Charlotte. Or Madi. Or, you know, one of the dogs.
Since I am the No. 1 Russ Taff fan, please forgive my brashness but I would like to ask everyone to take a minute to vote for my Russ….and all you have to do is click on this link below:
VOTE for Russ, for SG male vocalist of the year.
http://www.ballotbin.com/voterReg.php?b=6658
Sorry, Tori, but I just want to borrow your platform for a second.
Barbara, I voted for my Russ too.
I thought he was MY RUSS. I voted for him, also.
I’m back…did you miss me? (you don’t have to answer that!). I was in Huntington, WV (â€We Are Marshallâ€), up a holler…no wi-fi in the holler. So my comments here are in response to a couple of your previous blog entries.
August 14 – “One Last Lookâ€â€¦we got “that call†last Sunday (1/25) at 6:00 am…my father-in-law, my kids’ granddad, would be celebrating that Sunday and ever day after that in the presence of Jesus. As the shock wore off, we saw God’s graciousness and mercy and love; and we saw the body of Christ kick into action. What an awesome thing; and to be the recipient of all of that was quite overwhelming and humbling.
So we got back home on Friday afternoon, totally exhausted and emotionally spent. The previously planned Super Bowl party would be at our house on Sunday evening. Looking forward to a housefull of laughter and “terrible towels†(the Pittsburgh Steelers “flagâ€. Oh, yes, and by the way, we are now being called “Six-Burghâ€. We’re excited! Big parade on Tuesday. Totally nutty here.)
Anyway (anyhooo…), this brings me to a response about the January 14th blog “People who dress their Dogs in clothes are Stupidâ€. What do you then call “People-who-dress-their-newborn-baby-in-dog-clothes-because-that’s-the-only-thing-with-the-Steelers-logo-on-it-that-will-fit-the-babyâ€? Yes, they were at the party, and she (the baby) was adorable! I have a picture somewere…
Now to January 23rd – “Women Friendsâ€. The USAirways plane crash landing in the Hudson River. I called my friend whose husband is a USAirways pilot. Her shakey voice response was “Yes, he flies that type of plane, Yes that’s his route, No, I haven’t heard from him yet.†So I sat with her for 2 1/2 hours, watching the news, talking about everything else under the sun, until we did hear on the news who the pilot was (and saw a picture to confirm. She didn’t hear from her husband for another couple of hours (he was in the air doing his job; when he landed, why all the phone messages from all these people? Oh. “Honey, I’m OK. I know Sulley and this doesn’t surprise me one bit.â€)
This friend was the first one with some delicious chicken soup (sorry, no recipe) and a hug that needed no words when she heard about my father-in-law. She’s been there. She knows. And I know that she knows.
Thanks for all the good stuff you post that makes us laugh and cry and just say “Hmmmm, I never thought about that before.â€
God is good no matter what…
P.S. What is a waist?
Russ who? Oh, yeah, Tori’s husband!
http://picasaweb.google.com/smemah/Jubilate05#5298237996531902818
wish I had a clue as to what I am doing, but I don’t. Anyway, I hope you can catch a picture of RT with the best looking #1 Fan anyone ever had.
Omg, IT WORKED!
http://picasaweb.google.com/smemah/RussTaff#5298239846582084978
ONE DAY THEY ARE GOING TO SHOW UP IN THEIR FAVOIRTIE COLOR AT THE SAME TIME.
THESE ARE SO GREAT!!!!!
Yeah, I had to change the subject. I could not remember what a waist is!
Everybody knows a keg is better than a six pack!
OK I lost 40 LBS JUST by walking 3 or 4 miles every day. Treadmill or whatever. It is possible. Before I looked about 8 months pregnant. Now my stomach is pretty much flat. Oh AND I watched what I ate. Kept my calorie intake to about 1500 to 1700 a day.
Yeah, it’s the “pretty much” part of flat that I’m fighting! My “pretty much” is a little on the poochy side. You know, like a “little bit” pregnant! My waist is “pretty much flat” –WITH A POOCH!!
I pretty much can’t walk a city block without becoming winded. Is that a reason or an excuse?
Gracious, themema, it looks as if you are pretty winded even without walking….or is that windy? You just can’t behave yourself. I love you just the way you are.
I know the secret to Tori’s waist because, you might say, I read the right”books”…though that should be singular.
Not sure what a waist is, but I know what is directly above it: the only two things that decrease in size when I try to live healthier.
Love those pictures,and that color on Momma Lloyd— although I still like the suit Russ had on when I saw him in Kentucky last year.
I just got my ticket for Corbin,KY in March. I’m excited. I think Russ is supposed to be there. Am I the designated ‘hugger and sniffer’ for that concert ladies?
Yeah, nashbabe, I totally hear ya– so what is THAT about?!
nashbabe, count that a blessing. I have a young friend who yo-yo’s and becomes better endowed with each episode, but never loses it when she drops the weight again. She is so top heavy, she can hardly walk.
Auburn60, I have my favorite suits, also. And since we are dressing Tori’s husband, I really like his hair at least as long as it is in the picture with his #1 fan.
And if you really want to see some cute ones of our favorite blogger and singer……
http://www.russtaff.com/beta/photo_gallery.php
I don’t know how Russ makes it to concerts, much less regular everyday life, without all this fashion advice.
I’m getting a mental picture of Momma Lloyd adjusting his tie, the mema brushing the back of his hair…of course Linda would be there, probably shining his shoes or something.
Darned, if I haven’t wondered the same thing.
Was that him that just ducked behind that big bus?
Gracious, I’m not trying to dress my Russ. I’m never disappointed….so, everybody just leave him alone. That boy can sing!…and he looks good…real good.
But this blog is supposed to be about Tori’s waist. It is rare that I meet anyone who is qualified to offer advice in this department. My “girlfriends” are more disposed to spending time in the kitchen rather than at the neighborhood gym. And, that doesn’t do much for the waist. However, they frequently talk of dieting, in hopes of one day seeing the place on their bodies that disappeared so long ago.
The waist is where wisdom is stored in people who have earned silver streaks of beauty in their previosly boring brown, blond, black, or red hair. You can also tell if it is truly wisdom by the lines on their faces that correspond to the crinkles when they smile. No crinkle lines- probably just fat. Lots of crinkles- lots of wisdom. Hope this helps to clear up the confusion.
BTW- I have amassed a great store of silver, crinkles and wisdom. In fact, I have so much wisdom that it has outgrown its pooch and spilled into storage areas all over my body. I’m told it makes me softer to hug. I’m good with that.
Well, I’ll have you know that women don’t have a corner on the market of midlife waistline woes! Something happened to me, too, about the time I “turned 40″ (As Mark Lowry says, “Sounds like you’re talking about soured milk, doesn’t it?”) And it got worse once I “hit 50.” If all the weight around my middle were on my arms and chest, I’d be a hunk. Well…maybe a wrinkled balding hunk…but I’d still look better!
I’ll keep that in mind….
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