In 1999 I got the "click" I needed to get off my ample arse and do something about my weight. I joined a weight loss clinical program called H*erbal M*agic (asteriking so I don't get spammed) and lost 60 lbs. I maintained that loss until I became pregnant and since the first miscarriage, have just allowed my weight to climb and climb. I am officially now 7 lbs higher in weight than I was the day I walked into the HM clinic.
I have joined and rejoined HM since then, WW at least four times, and tried countless things on my own at home. I've been making a monthly charitable donation to C*urves for the last 18 months, and probably have paid at least one employee salary in full there. In short, I have sucked at doing anything about getting this weight off. And it's no small amount either. I am 64 lbs above my ultimate goal, and 44 lbs above where I was when I became pregnant.
I have been choosing to remain fat. And I have felt miserable about it. Yet I have still chosen to remain fat.
On Friday I marched myself into another weight loss program. The atmosphere in the place was alive! People were laughing and carrying on. I could hear cheers of congratulations from the private offices and whoops of laughter. None of the staff were these little size 4 stick university students out to make a summer job living - they were real women like me. Some had obvious weight struggles themselves - others were of normal weight and shape.
I was escorted into the manager's office for my private consultation. We started the interview and I promptly burst into tears! Excuse me?
I didn't realize how emotional I was about my weight and my body image. HB has been wonderful about it, but he's in such amazing shape that I just can't imagine why he finds me physically attractive. So I sat there, in front of this stranger woman, and I cried.
And then I joined. I feel the click.
I don't care if it's a gimick .... I saw pictures of people that I knew on the wall and they had lost weight. I have been doing the two day "cleansing" activity and got on my scale this morning after the first day. I'm already down two pounds. I don't care if it's all fluid. I'm down two pounds.
With work, school, the kids, lack of summer vacation....and everything else that feels out of my own control in my life, I need something of which I can be in control. My weight and my food intake is that thing. Man, that sounded like an eating disordered statement but really, I have so far to go before an eating disorder could kick in ... besides the fact that I just love food too much to ever think of going without it. Nope, it's the good kind of control.
HB and I have a trip to Boston booked for the end of September. If I keep to the prescribed regime, I will be at my halfway mark by then ... meaning I will be able to wear my Danier leather jacket which I adore! That, and my arse will actually fit comfortably in the seat for the trip.
I'm back. And I'm in control. Watch out world!