Fat as Hell…

and not going to take it anymore!

The Worm Has Turned…

Although I don’t always make it, I try very hard to go for a (vigorous, heart pumping, heavy sweat inducing) walk every evening. I started doing this about a year ago because, frankly, it was the only exercise I could do comfortably, (and when I say comfortably, I mean do without passing out — and even then there were a few times that I came close to doing just that). I think I’ve blogged before about the .2 mile loop that surrounds my house and how I spent much of last fall and winter tracing that loop over and over again.

The first night I decided to go for a walk, I struggled to make it around even once… but eventually I got stronger and that one time around slowly turned into two times and two times turned into three until finally I marked my first mile. I did that mile walk many, many nights… until eventually I did two.

Now, I walk a little more than 3 miles a night. But the truth is that the distance doesn’t feel as important to me as it once did. Lately I’ve been measuring my success by other means.

These days I’m no longer walking that .2 mile loop. Now I walk a 3.2 mile loop that runs through the golf course and around a lake that is adjacent to my neighborhood. It’s a good route for a couple of reasons, first off… it’s paved. I walk the same path that the golf carts take during the day and for me that’s a plus because regardless of how fit I get, I’m not all that coordinated and am sometimes prone to falling down… especially as the light begins to dwindle in the evening. The second plus that my new route has going for it, is that it’s quite hilly. I’m constantly having to push a little harder as I negotiate these inclines and descents… and with each hill I feel my heart rate increase or the strain in my muscles as I carry my, still pretty heavy, self up or down the path. And finally, the third thing I love about my evening walk is that it’s really and truly lovely. Just about every time I go, I chastise myself for not bringing my camera. One of these days I will, but for now all I can say is that there are rolling hills and a pristine lake complete with swans. It’s not wild or untamed by any stretch of the imagination but it is very charming and makes the exertion feel a bit more worth it.

One thing that I should mention now is that I live in the American southeast which means that, even in the evening, it’s still very hot out, but what’s more, the humidity here is downright oppressive. Tonight, when I left for my walk it was still over 80 degrees and the humidity was full bore. The moment you walk out the door, the sweat starts, and believe me, it doesn’t stop… which makes for a good work out, I suppose, but also makes for a pretty stinky return.

Anyway… I’m rambling a bit, but the point I’m trying to get to is that a year ago I’d never have been able to go for the walk I went for tonight. I’d never have made it even half that distance, and certainly not in the heat of summer. And what’s more, a year ago, I wouldn’t have dared tried.

A lot of the good folks in blogland right now are engrossed in a number of challenges. Several of my favorite weight loss bloggers are either currently pursuing, or have already mastered, the Couch to 5k challenge, and many others still are currently pushing themselves towards 100 push-ups. The brutal truth is that when I read about these endeavors, whatever joy and pride I may feel for my virtual friends as they pursue and reach these goals, is always tempered with a bit of jealousy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally sincere when I call BikiniMe my push-up hero, or when I tell Marshmallow or Andrew that I could hardly keep myself from jumping up and down for joy when I watched the videos and read about their recent 5k success.

And yet…

That joy rarely keeps me from looking down at my own still very flabby body and wishing that I were at the point where I could do even 1 push up or run even 1k (ok, who am I kidding? I’d settle for .01k at this point). But I’m *not* at that point yet. Not yet.

Not yet.

Changing everything about the way you’ve lived for the last 37 years isn’t easy. Learning to treat your body with respect and feed it in ways that are healthy and that promote a long life is hard, hard work. Many days I fuck up… and I’m sure the days to come will contain innumerable stumbles, but when I look back at where I used to be, it’s hard not to feel a little bit proud of how far I’ve come.

True. I’m not at the point where I’m ready to join the C25K challenge or attempt to do 100 pushups, but I am, literally and figuratively, miles away from where I used to be. I’ve lost weight, yes. And I will continue to lose weight, but what seems even more important tonight is the fact that I’m not the same person I was a year ago. I’m smarter, I’m stronger and I’m better prepared for the long road ahead. And, I bet, if you think about it, you are too.

It’s so very easy to fall prey to that little voice inside my head that constantly tries to remind me that I’m still fat and that even though I’ve lost a lot of weight, I have even more weight to go. (I’m sure you know that voice… in fact, I bet my voice and your voice are pals). The thing I think we all have to do is to quiet that voice with another, stronger, one. A voice that reminds us, no matter where we are on this journey, that we’ve come a long, long way and that each step forward takes us that much further away from the people we used to be.

Whatever I do, I must keep *that* voice at the forefront of my consciousness, because that voice is not only healthier and for more productive, but that voice is also right.

June 26, 2008 Posted by | losing weight | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Finding My Happy Weight

When I was a very little girl, (I’m talking elementary/middle school age), I can remember watching Richard Simmons on TV. This was before the whole “sweating to the oldies” phenomenon of the early 90’s, back when he had his own daytime TV show where he interviewed really fat people, told them about how he used to be really chunky, fixed some kind of lo-cal recipe and then spent about 10-15 minutes doing aerobics. Like I said, I was pretty young when it was on, but I was “fat” even back then and had already learned the very hard lesson that fat girls don’t make friends at school. They don’t get asked to dances. They don’t get picked for sports teams. The don’t get invited to slumber parties. And they don’t get the starring role in the school musical unless it’s a production Hairspray, of course. (Not that I’m bitter).

So… instead of doing those fun things, I stayed home and watched Richard Simmons.

Here’s the thing, as if that wasn’t sad enough, I can very vividly remember, at about the age of say 11, telling my mother that if I worked really hard,  I would eventually make it to my “goal weight.” Again, I was 11. And I was using phrases like “goal weight.”

Seriously. That’s some scary shit.

Anyway, needless to say, I never made to my “goal weight” whatever that magic number was. And I never made it many, many, (many) times after that. I’ve set a million “goal weights” over the years and never reached any of them. For me, setting a goal weight was like the kiss of death. The minute I decided on some arbitrary number, I became so focused on that number that I found it impossible to celebrate the loss of all the pounds in between. Who cares if I just lost 2lbs, I’m still 152lbs from my “goal weight!”

It’s that kind of self-destructive behavior that has kept from setting a goal weight this time.

If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time then you know that, for the most part, I’ve steadfastly refused to cast my gaze any further away from me than the next pound or two or five. I’ve purposely kept my eyes OFF the prize for a couple of reasons:

First, and foremost, I don’t want to miss out on all the victories I’ll achieve between here and the “end of the road,” wherever that is. I don’t want to stop feeling like a rock star each time I lose a pound or two. I don’t want the joy of each weight loss victory to lessen in the pit of my stomach just because it’s not the victory. After all, this is war! And I want to win, damn it! And what’s more, I don’t want to be gracious about it. I want to moon walk into the in zone like the worst kind of professional sports hot dog. This way, each pound lost feels like a miracle — like the huge achievement that it is — rather than just a mediocre, albeit necessary, step towards some elusive goal in the far distant future.

And secondly, truth be told, I don’t really even know what I *should* weigh. All I know for sure is that I’ve never been there. Whatever the ideal weight is for someone of my height, I’ve never weighed it. I’ve always been fat. I honestly have no idea what I will look like when all that weight comes off, because I’ve *never* been that girl.

What I do know, however, is that most people want to weigh less than they probably should. Even skinny people. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met a single person, skinny, fat or somewhere in between, who didn’t claim to want to lose at least a few pounds. Apparently, to some people’s way of thinking, there’s truth to the old adage that there’s no such thing as being too skinny. Really. What’s a chubby girl to do?

All that pontificating aside, though, lately it’s been harder and harder to shield my eyes from the vision of what my ideal weight might be. The more weight I lose, the closer I get to the point where I won’t need to keep losing weight anymore. In fact, just the other day my husband asked me how much weight I was planning to lose in total. “As much as it takes” I joked back at him. He smiled and stuff, but then he said, “you know, you’re going to have to think about it some time.” And he’s right, I will.

Of course, don’t get me wrong… I know that at this point in the game I’m still a looooong way from the end of the road. Believe me, I’m well aware of the fact that 319lbs – 65lbs *still* equals REALLY FAT.

But still… I’ve lost more weight than I ever have before. And therefore, the idea of actually making it to the oft hailed “goal weight” seems more possible than ever. So… sometimes, late at night, when I think no one else is looking, I’m willing to admit that I sometimes gaze longingly out the window and visualize the skinny me that I’ve never been. The healthy me who doesn’t require blood pressure or cholesterol meds. The musclebound fit girl who actually *likes* to exercise, who runs for pleasure and whose ass looks, frankly, hot as hell in whatever pants she happens to put on. And in those moments of extreme fantasy I wonder… how much does that girl weigh? 150lbs? 115lbs? Somewhere in between?

Then today, I stumbled upon this link on Irene’s blog. At first, I hesitated clicking on it… but then I read a bit more and I have to say the philosophy of it made sense to me. I mean, if I’m going to fiddle, even a tiny little bit, with setting a “goal weight” I want it to be based on something more than just my height. So, I reluctantly filled in all the blank spots, pressed enter and… viola! This number popped out:



Truth be told, I sat staring at it for long time. 132lbs. What does someone look like who weighs 132lbs. I’m pretty sure I came out of the womb weighing more than 132lbs. I’ll never make it to 132lbs.

Then I started doing the math.
That’s like… 123lbs left to go.
Then I started thinking about the weight I’ve already lost.
Ok… that’s like doing what I’ve already done 2 more times.
Suddenly, 123lbs never felt so achievable.
123lbs, I thought.
Yeah. I can do that.

So… is 132lbs my new goal weight?
Hell no.

If today I weight 254lbs then my goal weight is still 253lbs.
And when I get there, I’m gonna pat myself on the back and jump up and down and force my husband to come look at the scale, just like I’ve been doing because, I’ve spent much of my life feeling like losing even 1lb was impossible.

But you know what?

All those single pound losses tend to add up, my friends.
And, who knows, maybe one day they’ll add up to 123lbs.
*fingers crossed*

April 2, 2008 Posted by | losing weight, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments


Has anyone seen mine?

I’ve gone over my calories two days in a row now.
And I just couldn’t be bothered to exercise yesterday.

Will someone please light a fire under my ass?

Thank you.


PS: I’ll be so glad when putting on a pair of stockings in the morning no longer requires major feats of acrobatics.

February 13, 2008 Posted by | motivation | , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments