Weight, Weight, Don't Tell Me...

I was introduced to the public radio Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me by my husband, Corey, a few years ago while we were living in Kingsville, TX. It was on Saturday mornings and we often listened to it on our drives out to Corpus when there was nothing else on. Which was a lot. As old as it makes me sound, I love that program. It is witty and quick and fun to listen to. I think what won me over was when they asked what Apple will come up with next since the iPad and one of the guys said, "the Max iPad." Take out the space between the words. That's comedy right up my ally. It makes the news light and fun instead of dismal and depressing. And that's why I have named this blog what I did. I have seen my weight as something dismal and depressing since I was 12. I'm looking to lighten up. Mentally and physically.

A lot of people view weight loss as a journey, which I agree it is to some extent. However, I don't want to call this a journey. Because to me that means there will eventually be a destination. And once you get to your destination, you typically turn around and go back home. I'm planning to relocate. Move to a foreign land with a new language and culture where I can assimilate myself and become one of the locals one day. That's how I am going to view this. I'm not going to have a ticker at the top of this blog that says how far I am in reaching my goal. I'm not going to count down how many pounds I have left to go. When my good friend Jill's husband went to PA school, instead of counting down she tallied how many days he had been in school. So it will be with this blog. I feel like if I keep track of my progress on the internet, it will somehow keep me motivated to keep going. I will be accountable. I can imagine hundreds, heck, thousands of followers who are counting on me to succeed so I can inspire them.

So why can't I get myself to tell anyone about this blog? I plan to eventually. Obviously, if you're reading this I have already done so or you just happened to stumble upon it somehow. But as I write this I am pretty scared to embark on this relocation. I'm afraid to fail. I'm embarrassed that I even have 40, 50, okay 60 pounds to lose. I feel as if I haven't even accepted it yet. Yes, I've always felt fat and don't like my body, but I don't see myself as a big fat girl who needs to call Jenny. But the truth is, I'm over 190 pounds. My BMI is 29 and I am overweight. I'm tall and apparently don't look like I weight close to 200 pounds but the scale doesn't lie. I'm not happy in my own skin. I feel self conscious all the time. It's bad enough to be taller than most people and feel like you tower over them, but to be fatter than them all just adds to the circus freak mentality. I see other people who are physically fit and see not only how cute they look in their clothes, but how much energy they have. I see them running with their kids. I see their houses clean and organized. They just seem like they have it all together.

I'm not doing this solely on looks. In all honesty, I do want to be smaller and wear cute clothes and look good in them. I do want to take pictures without worrying about a double chin or a stomach roll. I want to look in the mirror and like what I see looking back at me. But I also need to do this because frankly, I'm just unhealthy. I'm on 2 different blood pressure medications, one for thyroid, an antidepressant, pills to lighten my period and some stuff for anxiety attacks. I blame my inherited kidney disease but to be honest, I'm sure my health problems would be lessened quite a bit if I was at a healthy weight.

I have tried to lose weight on my own since I was 13. Obviously I was never successful. I lost about 20 pounds in college on a diet of community gallons of ice cream and cold cereal. But I was 20 and walked, did yoga and even ran a bit. And cold cereal and ice cream was pretty much all I ate. Before I got pregnant with my second child, Jack, I lost another 20 or 25 pounds (don't worry, the 20 pounds I lost in college had come back) by counting my calories and following the lose the baby weight diet from Parents magazine. My motivation was Jack. I thought that if I wanted another baby without complications, I should lose weight and that would make things better. At least as far as my blood pressure was concerned. That ended up not being true and I had complications anyway. On top of that, I ended up gaining close to 50 pounds with that boy and am now 20 heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight.

I visit teach a Weight Watchers success story. She is tiny and when I met her I figured she's always been skinny and never had a problem with food. Then I saw her blog and read her journey. Talking with her over lunch at Chick-fil-a has inspired me and brought me to a decision. I'm joining Weight Watchers. The points, the meetings, the whole bit. Corey supports me in this and maybe by doing this it will help my whole family. Why am I not shouting it from the rooftops? Because I'm embarrassed. I'm ashamed. I'm self-conscious. And maybe I'm not convinced that this isn't going to work. Lane Bryant has really cute clothes. My husband thinks I'm beautiful and I have great friends. But I'm not happy. I'm ready to begin my relocation to a foreign land and become a local. I'm talking my family with me. And I'm not moving back. I am Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun. I'm ready to start my life and be the person I want to be.

Here goes nothin...