Tuesday, January 26, 2016

first steps.

I took some measurements last night. A small part of me (whichever part of the brain regulates denial) actually thought that despite my BMI (30), my waist circumference might just redeem me. It did not.

I have a waist circumference of 94cm. Waist circumference, in combination with BMI and waist-to-hip ratio, is used to predict whether we are at risk of developing health problems. At lot of pseudo-scientific blogs out there like to point out some of the limitations of these methods. But let me tell you: for most of us, they're accurate and satisfactory. Believe me, I wish I could honestly say I have an athletic build with more muscle mass than normal. Truth is, I look like every other fat person: rotund and lumpy. 

Anyway, 94cm puts me just a teensy weeny smidgeon above the healthy range. The wonders of science have shown us that as a woman, anything above 80cm is bad news. I know. Fourteen centimetres is hardly a teensy weeny smidgeon. Insert emoticon conveying despair here. As for waist-hip ratio, I actually fall within a healthy range (0.78). If you don't have a medical or health background, you may find this confusing. I just find it a drop of comfort in an ocean of bad news: it's possible that the way in which my body distributes fat slightly reduces my otherwise high risk of health problems. But with a BMI that categorises me as 'obese', it's certainly not licence to help myself to cake.

Tomorrow I'm going to take my blood pressure. There is only so much bad news I can take in one sitting. I had some glucose tests done earlier and - praise be - I do not have type 2 diabetes. Small miracle, my friends.

The question now, of course, is what I do with this information. Anyone struggling with their weight knows the answer: eat less. Putting that into practice is very difficult. I'll let you know how I go with that - you have plenty of weepy blog posts about emotional eating, stress, and the hereditary impact of obesity to look forward to.


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