Still very weird.
Okay, I’ll try to make this my last post — at least for a while — about all the weight I lost: about 40 pounds. Some of you must be getting tired of it. I’m still in disbelief.
Yesterday, I went to the mall to pick up some clothes. My wardrobe is extremely limited these days and I needed a few things to fill in the gaps. Mostly stuff that was a little dressy, or at least things that could be easily dressed up. I wanted something new to wear to court — and I really wish I didn’t have to think about things like that.
Maria 3.0 — AKA, Maria Rebooted. This is one of my Glamour Shots photos. I’m wearing old clothes in this one, folks — clothes I wore when I was in my 30s. (I saved a ton of money on clothes by keeping that old stuff. I remember wearing those shoes at my first job out of college!) I feel like I’m in my 30s, too.
What’s blowing my mind is the size thing. Before the diet, I was a size 14 or XL and really pushing the seams. Apparently, I’m now a size 8 or S.
But I’m in denial. So when I try on clothes, I keep bringing size 10 and M into the fitting room. And they’re just too darn big.
I do want to say that I don’t think today’s sizes are in the same scale as the sizes back in the 1980s when I was a size 8. (I was also a size 6 for a short while, when my activity level and metabolism brought my weight down to a sickly 105 pounds.) In my size 8 days, I weighed 130-140 pounds. Today, I weigh around 155. (No, I’m not ashamed of my weight. Indeed, I’m rather proud of it. Remember, I’m 5’8″ tall; according to this chart, I’m right about where I should be.)
My closet was full of old clothes and I tried on every single item in there. What I found is that I’m fitting into size 10 and 12 from the “old days.” Not size 8. It’s the new size 8, which seems to be equivalent to the old size 10, that I’m fitting into.
Why are clothes sizes different? I suspect it has to do with the fattening of America. As I walk around the mall — and elsewhere — I can’t help but notice all the fatties around me. I used to be one of them. Now I’m not. And I really feel sorry for them.
Yesterday, I was in Clearwater Creek, trying on some of the clearance clothes. A skirt in size 10 actually fit better in size 8. (I didn’t buy it because I didn’t like the cut. I look much better in slim-line skirts than ones that flare out.) A sleeveless knit shirt in size M actually fit better in size S. Small! Can you believe that? I can’t! I was busting the seams on XL in women’s sizes just four months ago!
I caught on by the time I got to JC Penney. I brought both size 10 and size 8 into the fitting room with me. The size 8 fit. I bought a funky tweed-like skirt and a red skirt — if you can imagine that. I would have bought a black faux leather skirt if they’d had it in my size.
Today, I tried to find a pair of plain black Levi’s jeans. What I discovered is that it’s nearly impossible to find ladies’ jeans that aren’t made out of stretch fabric. I used to like stretch denim. I used to need stretch denim. But now I just want regular old denim. Like the kind they sell to guys. I almost bought a pair of men’s 505 jeans in black denim, but I wanted them in 34 length instead of 32. Apparently, Levi’s doesn’t make them. I like the 550s, but really think that with my new, slim figure the 505s would be more flattering. I’ll have to hit the Levi’s store at the outlet mall and try again.
Shoes are easy. I’m still a size 8 or 8-1/2. In the old days, I wore a size 6-1/2. I guess my feet got fatter and stayed that way. Picked up a new pair of plain black pumps today. Can’t wait to throw out the old patent leather pumps I used to wear when I had a “real job.”
I’m really enjoying all of this. What I’m not enjoying is having clothes that I thought would fit but are now too large. I like my clothes to fit properly. And I don’t have an unlimited budget for buying clothes.
But hell — at least I like shopping now. I haven’t enjoyed it so much since my college days, when I worked in a retail clothing store.
It’s all part of Maria 3.0 — AKA, Maria Rebooted. And it sure makes me happy.
Unfortunately, my husband didn’t spend much time at our Wickenburg home over the summer. That was pretty obvious from the condition of the yard and flower beds when I returned. He’d planted a vegetable garden, which was mostly dead. And five of the eight cape honeysuckle plants were either missing or reduced to dead sticks. Everything was bone dry. When I checked the irrigation system, I found the spigot turned off.
The road to Lockett Meadow is not paved. I was driving my Honda S2000, which probably has about 6 inches of clearance on the bottom. (At least it seems that way.) I was a little concerned when I saw the sign that said “Road Not Maintained for Passenger Vehicles,” but when you consider that the road to my house is not maintained at all and is currently in deplorable condition and I drive it every day with the Honda, I was willing to give it a try.
Lockett Meadow Campground was at the end of the road. So were the aspen groves. I stopped and snapped a few photos, including this shot of my car parked alongside the road.
In the back of the campground was the trailhead for the Inner Basin trail. I parked the car among the SUVs in the small lot and got out with Penny to take a look. The trail looked dark and wound into the forest. It didn’t look very inviting. Although Penny was ready to go, it didn’t look like the kind of hike I wanted to take early in the morning. I was more interested in photographing the aspens; there were plenty of subjects back out in the meadow.
I love including reflections in my photographs. This location did not disappoint me. I was able to make a number of photographs that really showed off the view with perfect reflections.
I got back into the car again, now ready to leave. But again, as I was driving off, I caught sight of another place where still water was surrounded by trees. Leaving Penny in the car, I went to investigate and made a few more reflection photos. It was really much more than I had hoped for.
When Rod and I finished talking, I felt better. Penny and I got back into the car and continued to the Snowbowl. We followed the winding road all the way up to the entrance to the ski area. Just to the right was the parking area for the trailhead.
Like the other trail, the Kachina trail led into the woods. But whether it was the time of day — after 10 AM — or just the kind of trail, it seemed a lot brighter and more inviting. But what really surprised me was the elevation — the GPS in my phone reported nearly 9,300 feet. Whoa.
The trail was relatively narrow and wound up and down through the forest, between trees and around large rocks. Penny, on her leash, led the way, stopping occasionally to sniff at something. We met a young family with children walking the other way. I kept up a good pace without getting winded, despite the elevation, and was glad again for the health benefits of my recent weight loss.
On the way up to the Kachina Trail, I’d passed a place called Aspen Corner. There was a parking area there with paths through an aspen grove. Those trees were at near peak color. I decided to wander around there for a while.
Penny and I wandered around for a while. I asked another photographer to take a photo of usy, but the exposure was so bad you can barely see us. I also tried a self-portrait using the camera’s timer and did a little better — although I’m squinting into the sun so badly that I don’t really look very appealing. Oh, and do you know how difficult it is to prop up a DSLR vertically on a log?
I can’t really express the joy I feel driving a tight-steering sports car with plenty of performance at high speed on otherwise empty mountain roads. Two weeks ago Sunday was the first time I’d driven my car since leaving Arizona in early May. A few trips to Phoenix helped reacquaint me to its feel. But this Sunday, as I sped toward Sedona, we were fully reacquainted. I especially enjoyed the stretch of Highway 89 in the Prescott National Forest between Wilhoit and Prescott. The stretch of Highway 89A between The Yavapai Country Fairgrounds and Jerome would have been even better if I weren’t stuck behind a slow Prius for most of the trip.
The 
