In January of 2006, I began a weight loss journey and lost a lot of weight.  I was the happiest I had been with my body in a long, long time.  Not only did I love the way I looked, but I loved the way I felt and not just because I had lost weight, but because I KICKED FOOD’S ASS.

It was such a great feeling.  My lowest weight was 155 but held steady at about 162.  It was the right weight for me.

I had joined Weight Watchers something like nineteen times prior to the time it really worked.  On occasion I would have success, but it never really clicked with me.  Before 2006, when I tried to lose weight, (totally hate the word diet, by the way)  I would try to eat as much food as I could for as little point values as possible.  In 2006, I learned that having that type of attitude towards food would never, ever lead me to long term success.

I did something I never thought I would do.  I attended a meeting and before I could do anything else, I bought a meeting pass for the next four weeks.  I knew buying those meetings was a commitment.  (plus, Brian would kill me if I spent the money on the meetings and didn’t go.)

The first week I lost eight pounds.  I never cheated, and I’m not just talking about the type of cheating where you sneak food here and there, it was also about cheating myself.  I figured out that if I were to stuff a cookie in my mouth, I was only hurting ME and I hated that.  I had to pay for the cookie later on.

Also, I joined a gym and worked out on a consistent basis.  I was so good to myself.

Occasionally, I would secretly cram food into my mouth that was against my food plan, I’d tell myself lies like “you deserve it!” and “it’s just a few calories and fat grams, no big deal.“  but later in the day I would sit down at my computer and enter the points that I had eaten behind my own back.   It was like I had formed an alliance with myself against the dirty, evil side of me that only wanted to eat bad food.

It was awesome.

I kept the weight off for a long, long time.  In late 2007, I became pregnant with twins.  With my previous two pregnancies I had gained so much weight, but this time, my attitude was different, I knew that gaining weight during pregnancy was not my “right.”  I was healthy and still loved the way I looked, I also enjoyed watching my belly grow but watching my butt and arms stay the same size.

And as you know, at five months, we lost the babies.  The weeks following our loss I had that awful “after baby belly.”  I can’t even begin to tell you how many people would ask me when I was due.  With each encounter I felt like I had been punched in the face.

With grief, I had no appetite.  I had no desire, nothing sounded good, I barely thought of food, my thoughts were consumed with our loss.  I could have gone for days without eating.  Luckily my family was there to feed me.

I lost weight rapidly and got down to 169 pounds.  I lost twenty pounds in a matter of weeks.

But slowly, I began to eat again and slowly I began to lean on food as my crutch.  I would often tell myself that “I deserve that bowl of ice cream.“  But really, I deserve so much more than that stupid bowl of ice cream.  (I hate that bowl of ice cream, but I love it so much but that makes me hate it more and why DOES IT TASTE SO GOOD?  FOOD IS SO COMPLICATED.)

This morning I weighed in at 181.4.  Which sucks because two days ago I weighed in at 178.6.  (Why yes, I have been stuffing my face these last two days.)

Today, I am  joining the Shrinking Jeans weight loss challenge, we started a new challenge today which will last eight weeks.

My goal?  Get down to 169…the healthy way.

Also?  Brian has lost 35 pounds since November.  He and I are going to break up the eight week challenge with mini challenges.  This week, if I lose more weight, I get a pedicure.  If he loses more weight, I can’t buy anything except food and gas for a week.

I need to win.  My feet are nasty.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • Sphinn
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Mixx
  • Google Bookmarks