I'm fat.
I don't mean that I no longer fit into my size 4 jeans. (full disclosure -- I've NEVER worn size 4 jeans. In college I had a size 4 dress once, but I think it was mislabeled!) I don't mean that I ate a big meal and feel bloated. I mean, I'M FAT. I'm a significantly overweight person. As in, I'd be happy losing 50 pounds but I'd still technically be overweight even then.
I have resolved to lose weight every single new year since I was, I don't know, about 12. Of course, I wasn't fat then, I was just brainwashed into thinking I was. I think I always tended to be on the chubby side as a child, but I wasn't fat. I am short -- and when you're short, every pound counts really fast. Throughout my 20's and most of my 30's, I was on the heavy side of a normal weight range, and when I look at pictures of myself during that time, I realize now that I was fit, and that I wore my body well. But I always thought I was fat. Since about 40, however, the pounds started creeping (or maybe galloping) on, and I weigh close to 100 pounds more than I did in college. Wow. That was not especially pleasant to write.
I hate being fat. It is the single largest burden of my life. That said, though, I feel pretty good about who I am. I'm not one of those people who thinks my life would be perfect "if only" I lost this weight. I used to think that way. But my life is awesome, for the most part, and I don't think being thinner would make my life any more awesome. Except ..... I'm fat enough that it's caused heath problems. I'm pre-diabetic. I take meds for cholesterol, high blood pressure, acid-reflux, and hot flashes. (OK, the hot flashes probably have nothing to do with my weight, but who knows?) My knees ache nonstop, and recently one of my hips has joined in the fun. I get out of breath doing housework, climbing stairs, or even thinking about doing either of those things! And the absolute worst thing about being fat? Plus-sized clothes shopping. Don't even get me started. That's a post all by itself.
I know that, at age 54, I've got more years behind me than ahead of me. But I don't want to short-change myself or the people who love me. If I don't take control of my weight and my health, I know I'm dancing on thin ice. (Not literally. I never dance. I never do anything that might make me look stupid if I can help it!) Here's the thing: I really want to stick around a while. I have these two grandsons who -- for now, anyway -- think I am the best thing since chocolate pudding. WITH sprinkles. I have a husband who loves me and who I still love (and, even better, LIKE) after nearly 30 years of marriage. I'm a dozen or so years away from thinking about retiring. I have travelling to do. And I really want to be a wild, crazy old lady one day!!
So here's the deal. I'm putting this out there on the interwebs as an accountability tool. I have a plan. It's a plan of baby steps -- taking one or two things at a time to clean up my health. My first two steps on my journey are these:
- Give up diet sodas. I've been tackling this for a couple of weeks, with pretty good success. I'm down to less than one a day (most days, NONE) -- and this is from a typical 10 or so a day. All that aspartame is bad for insulin and a can of chemicals couldn't possibly be GOOD for me.
- Exercise at least 5 times a week. I'm going to get up every Tues-Thurs at 5 and hit the treadmill upstairs, and every Sat and Sun I'll do the same (or hit the streets). I'll incorporate different kinds of exercise soon but for now, I just need to get moving.
I'm working with a nutritionist, but truthfully, I KNOW what to eat and what not to eat. This person is actually serving as more of a coach, and I like that arrangement. I'm going to try to post some of my progress here -- even if no one reads it, I know it's out there in the universe somewhere.
Here's to being a loser in 2014!
