I have wondered about this many times, why, this time, I decided to actually do something, when there were so many other times I wished I could lose weight, but never got motivated enough to try. It's a mystery still, but for some reason, that particular Saturday last May, I got on a plan and stayed on it. Now, two things that might have pushed me over are:
My size 22 jeans were getting VERY tight, and I was going to have to move up a size. I think I had convinced myself that I had reached some upper limit of fatness and wouldn't ever get any bigger. I had been the same jeans size for several years. And then I started having to lie down to zip.
Also, I had company coming last summer that hadn't seen me in years, and I was really embarrassed for them to see me so big. I lost 15 lbs. by the time they came, and even though that was a drop in the bucket and hardly noticeable, it did make me feel better, and I wanted to keep going.
As I mentioned though, I'd had reasons just as good many times before, so why these were magic,