Last year, I swore I was going to start this blog. I knew the name, a tongue-in-cheek double entendre that captures the humor of the situation for sure, and I had the intention, but I chickened out. This week I read an article that actually inspired me. It told the story of 8 bloggers who used their blogs to establish personal accountability and motivation to lose weight. The bloggers were all ages, and they actually made weight loss seem feasible. It stayed on my mind, and then two nights ago I had a dream that when I was on the dance team in high school, I was fat. Aw, hell no, fat. You’ve gone too far when you starting going back in time to claim my high school figure (which was fabulous). I don’t think so. It’s on.
Alrighty then, let’s give it a go shall we?
I’m a fatty. There, I said it. And I get to call it what I want to because it’s my demon. If I know at least one thing, it’s that there’s no perfect way to overcome your mess. I wasn’t always fat. How I got fat is the stuff of many future blogs and several thousand dollars in therapy. If you count the years when I was skinny and thought I was fat, I’ve been fat since the 1980’s. Technically speaking, I’ve been overweight since 1996. That’s a lot of time spent not liking my body. I often wish I could go back and tell skinny me to love me and take care of me, but we’ve all seen that movie and it doesn’t end well. So I repeat, I’m fat. The kind of fat that avoids pictures, including family pictures. My kids are going to wonder if I existed. The kind of fat that knows the people I was a bitch to in high school are going, “ha ha!” I’ll spare you the Delta Burke speech about what a good person I am now, even though I’m fat. The kind of fat that has to dress carefully so as not to look pregnant, although, I’m pretty sure that’s a losing battle. I’m fat. I was a cute little stuck up hottie in high school, and now I’m fat. Pretending I’m fine, and I’m not fat, is going to kill me, so it’s time to cut the shit. No apologies for the language. This isn’t going to be pretty, so I don’t see any reason to be prissy or proper about it.
Starting off I’m a size 20. Wow that’s hard to write. 2-0. 5’3″…although everyone says I seem taller. I think I must have longish legs for my short stature. 235lbs!!! Wow, I thought 20 was hard to write. That puts my BMI at 41.6, which is not good. Let’s start there because measuring myself in inches today might launch the aneurysm I’m flirting with at this weight.
So what’s my plan? Well, I have found the secret to weight loss…ready? Diet…and…Exercise. I paused for effect there, I hope you liked it. Oh, and accountability. So I’m going to eat better. I’m going to write down what I eat. I’m going to plan to exercise everyday. When I take breaks to the ladies room at work, I’m going to the one downstairs so I can offset my sedentary job. Oh, and each time I take a break I’m taking eight long sips of water (excellent idea Ms. Freeman). I’m also going to try new exercise options and get a personal trainer. Finally, I intend to put it all out here for the world to see. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.
Who knows, maybe I’ll inspire somebody, the way these bloggers inspired me:
Have a wonderful evening!
For the record I had:
Low sugar oatmeal and coffee for bfast
A PBJ for lunch
A hundred calorie strawberry newton pack for snack
2 Bratwurst on whole wheat buns and apple slices for dinner
Oh, and a diet coke.
Hmmm…I need more fruits and veggies.