I was at a coupon clipping party last night. (I know– you are totally jealous at the exciting life I lead.) During the party one of the ladies said, “We’re going to start our diet on Monday.”
Monday is the day that I have been going to start a new eating plan for years. After all, who wants to start on the weekend? Then, when Monday comes I can’t bring myself to commit, so I decided that I am going to start the next Monday. It wasn’t until I heard this sentence come out of someone’s mouth that I realized how totally absurd it is.
Even though I know how absurd it is, I still can’t bring myself to start until Monday. I guess it is the same idea as starting a health routine on January 1st. It just feels right to start a new adventure on the first day of the week or the first day of the year.
The best day to start is now!
But still, I think I will start on Monday. Watch out Monday. Here I come.
My weight is getting in the way of my dreams. There. I said it. Or, I wrote it, at least. I always wanted to believe that my weight was not going to get in the way of what I wanted to do and be, but now I realize that I was just deluding myself. I know that I need to lose the weight, but the task is daunting.
I weigh about 310 lbs. I can’t believe that the scale said that huge number. I gained the weight slowly over 15 years. I have dieted before, but I gave up on dieting about 10 years ago.
I gave up on dieting because the only way I was able to keep my weight level was by doing extreme things. When I was in high school, I skipped breakfast and only ate a 150 calorie lunch to maintain a weight that was about 20 pounds higher than everyone else. In college, I often would eat meals of lima beans and green jello to maintain my weight. After the birth of my first child, I worked out hard for an hour each day to maintain a weight that was about 80 pounds more than other moms my age. 10 years ago, I gave up the losing battle. I was done. I was so focused on what I saw was a losing battle. I had other skills that I wanted to contribute to society. I decided that I was not going to let my weight stop me.
So, I started living my life and not worrying about my weight. I really didn’t care what other people thought. I would look in the mirror, and I no longer saw a fat person. I only saw myself. Only, little things would bother me. My knees would ache occasionally. In the morning, my ankles needed to warm up before I could easily walk around. When I played the flute, I couldn’t hold the long notes as long, because I would run out of breath. I was no longer comfortable in an airplane. I had to ask for a seatbelt extension.
These things bothered me, but I don’t think that I was in denial. Every once in a while, someone would say something about my size, and I didn’t care. Duh. I know that I am fat. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. I figure that anyone that gets a rise from making fun of the weight of another person will soon see their numbers rise on the scale. I did not care what other people thought. It wasn’t until I realized that my weight was holding me back that I decided to do something about it.
So, about a week ago I decided that I was going to take action. Except, I was having a hard time committing. It is really hard to start a journey to lose weight when the rest of your family does not have to worry about food. Plus, I did not set myself up for success. I didn’t think about how I was going to do it. Now, I have decided that I am going to be much more intentional. Intentional about changing my weight so it no longer gets in the way of what I want to do.
I decided to blog about my journey to give me some accountability. Please join me on this crazy journey. My goals is to lose half of my weight. It’s daunting. Maybe scary is the right word.