Monday, August 17, 2009

Hemming Pants

Weight: 259.4

Friday was reasonable. Saturday I skirted in just under my calorie limit but didn't accomplish anything like what I'd been meaning to. Sunday was a 1,964 calorie no-workout disaster. Today, though, I want to focus on the positive.

The weekend started well. I had a day off on Friday. I'd planned it a while back, just as sort of an "I'm going to need a break at some point" vacation day. I got my hair cut and, since I'd passed the 20 pound mark, decided to get a manicure and pedicure as well. I only worked out for 30 minutes (generally I do 40 or 45) but figured it was okay since I'd walked around the city so much.

Since my suits have been a little tent-like of late, I decided to head to Macy's and pick up a new smaller pair of black pants that I could wear with my existing jackets. I found out that they had the pants of my favorite suit on sale. I tried on and bought the 20s, happy that I easily fit into them. On a whim at the last minute, I picked up the 18s as well to shrink into.

Walking home from Macy's, I decided that I'd go to the tailor and get my new pants hemmed. Hemming pants has been this strange continual battle between my mother and I for many years. In middle and high school, I liked having pants that were slightly too long. More than that, I'm sure, I liked the immediate gratification of wearing new pants without having to send them away to the tailor for a few days. This drove my mother insane. She would push and push and push me to get my pants hemmed, which in turn drove me insane. Soon enough, it took on a life of it's own, to the point where I wouldn't get things hemmed because she wanted me to. Over the years, I might relent on an item or two, generally in exchange for something else I wanted. It was absolutely ridiculous, but is what it is.

In DC, I hadn't been getting my pants hemmed. Since I'm not incredibly short, it's really just on the border whether I need them hemmed or not, and generally it'll take a little while. Sure, eventually the hem will fall apart or get frayed (and it has on many of my work pants: I just stop wearing those ones) but they last a decent bit.

On Friday, though, I decided I was going to be a grown-up, get over this small random resentment, and go get my new pants hemmed. I went to the tailor, got into the tiny dressing room and put on the size 20s, and let her mark them up.

"Okay try on next pair," she said. Her accent was pretty heavy, and we'd been having some trouble communicating.

"They're just the same as these, can't you just make them the same length." In New York that was what they always did, so I was a bit surprised she'd even asked me to try on the second pair.

"No, is better."

"But it's the same pair of pants." Except for the fact that I'm too fat for the other pair . . .

"Is better. Try on next pair."

I went back into the dressing room, uncertain of what to do. Just put on the pants I'd worn and say, sorry, I'm in a rush, and get the 18s hemmed when they were closer to fitting? But then I'd have to come back again. After standing, pantsless, for a few minutes in the small changing room I figured I might as well try on the 18s. I was wearing a big and long enough shirt that if I could just get them up she'd be able to hem them, even if I couldn't button them. There was no harm in trying, anyway.

So I did.

And they fit. They fit! They zippered and buttoned and sure were probably a little tighter than I'd wear to work buy they fit. I was ecstatic.

Friday night went well. My Saturday morning free session with my trainer went very well. He's fabulous and I promise to write more about him at some point. Afterward, though, I felt so incredibly exhausted that I didn't do anything else that I'd been meaning too, and ate at the very top of my Spark range. (And generally speaking I don't use the spark range and stick to a hard limit of 1300 with most days under 12.) Sunday was bad bad bad and I didn't work out and ate almost 2000 calories.

But today's a new week, and a new day. I'm going to get back on track. I've got a size 18 pair of pants all hemmed and ready for me to wear them: I don't want to make them wait too long. I'm betting the weight is mostly bloat and salt from Sunday. Hopefully my official tomorrow will be better. We shall see.

I'm going to stick with the hard (existing) goal for my graphs and spreadsheet, but keep pushing myself to see if I can do better. After all, each day I do well makes the next day easier. I can do this.


  1. Yay, A Hadley update!

    Congrats on the 18s fitting! That is friggin awesome and I love your whole, "Its a brand new day" attitude. Bad ass!

  2. Yay for smaller pants! To me, that's even better than the scale going down! Congrats. You're doing an awesome job!

  3. That rocks Hadley! You are making some great progress!

    I am all of 5'2" so I have to have 98% of everything hemmed.

  4. Awesome! I'm kind of short (5'4.5) - and I hate hemming pants too.

  5. YAY! YAY! YAY! That must have sent you practically skipping out of the dressing room!!

    Excellent job!


  6. Awesome on the smaller pants! I know exactly how great that feels because I had a recent experience.