This past summer I weighed 300 pounds -- my “official” weight was 295 on my scale, always 7 pounds lower than the doctor’s scale. You do the math. To say I was out of shape is putting it kindly. Don’t get me wrong -- I could walk okay. Although I did experience some knee pain going up the stairs, which was getting more frequent.
We got a new puppy in June, and I could get down on the floor to play with him, but getting up was a struggle. In July, I fell while carrying him down the stairs. He was fine, but I seriously hurt my coccyx. Lying down was hard, sitting was difficult, and going from sitting to standing excruciating. I could stand and lie on my side. I watched a lot of TV, and thought about how miserable it would be to be more permanently disabled. At my weight, it could happen. Maybe not next year… but the extra weight makes everything harder. Getting depressed yet? I was. “Why try,” I thought, “when I’ll only gain it back and more?”
Oh yes, I’d been there before. Feels like I’ve been fat my whole life. I tried WW several times and loved it, but always always struggled to stay “on plan”. The summer before college I started at 165 and lost 15 pounds – only to gain back over 20 my freshman year. During college I ballooned to 220, where I hovered for years. Then I went to grad school and packed on another 30 pounds “somehow” and finally I decided I had HAD it. I met with a nutritionist and learned how to eat right. I exercised. I lost over 30 pounds and felt GREAT!! Nothing could stop me!
Except the new boyfriend, also overweight, and uninterested in doing anything about it. He didn’t eat breakfast, but got in his 3rd “snack” meal at night. I joined him – couldn’t say no to the yummies! I stopped exercising. Then I got a job. Oh, how stressful! How could I ever get a workout in? I convinced myself that walking the dog (a pug) was good exercise. I stopped caring what I ate. It was freeing not to think about food and just indulge, but lunch from a vending machine? No wonder I collapsed in “exhaustion” when I got home every night.
The scale moved north again…but it only goes up to 300 pounds, and I was nearly there! I was barely fitting into size 28/30s, and didn’t know where to shop… What amazes me is that I was feeling desperate, but STILL didn’t do anything.
Until one July day. Oddly, I don’t know which day. In pain from the coccyx, a thought popped into my head, “I’m only 39 and I feel like I’m at least 50.” The next thought was “I want to be healthier at 50 than I will be at 40.” That thought was somehow revolutionary, and yet, on its own did not lead to action, because my next thought was “So, should I wait until February to start?” I really didn’t think it was possible.
I mentioned this to my husband (yes, the “new boyfriend” from earlier) and he said something like, “What a load of crap -- that’s a sure way to ensure you’ll fail – never start!” The words stung. How dare he say that!
But finally, I realized he was right.
I started. First with portion control and more movement, then full-on calorie counting and measuring, then exercise. And then I found 3FC -- thank you everyone here!
For me, the amazing thing is that it has not been nearly as hard as all the other times. The struggle not to eat every piece of candy I see is greatly diminished. I don’t feel like I’m in rebellion against myself. Is that the “click?”
Not that it’s easy every day – it’s NOT! And I find it hardest to maintain an exercise routine. But I’m doing it, and I’ve lost 45 pounds. I have a long way to go, but my knee no longer hurts, I sleep better, I can move easier, and am no longer tired at the end of the day. I fit easily into 24s, and am making a move on 22s. Next week, my husband and I are joining a gym. Oh yeah, he’s come on board too now!
I don’t set deadlines for weight loss goals, but 250 pounds is how much I weighed the last time I started getting in shape, and I thought it would be nice to get there by that 40th birthday. So, happy early 40th birthday to me!!!
