...with a single step.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step"

I have a long way to go.  It's daunting to think about, but I won't.  I have to lose the weight pound by pound, inch by inch.  It's taken me about 20 years to get to this point, and I can't expect to just snap my fingers and be back to my pre-pubescent weight.  That's where it all started.  Recently I realized that from the time I was about 10 or 12, until a few years ago, my clothing size had gone up to correlate with my age.  Not purposely of course, but I've gotten gradually bigger and bigger until I am now in a size 26 (some 24s) at 30 years old.  I'm 5'10" and for most of my teen and early adult years, I justified gaining weight because I was taller and curvy and it's equally distributed.  Crock. of. Shit.  Excuse my French.  In a Weight Watchers meeting I attended in 2006, I picked up something..."Sometimes we try to rationalize the bad choices we make with rational lies."  I've been rationalizing with rational lies.  I guess I AM "equally distributed", sounds a hell of a lot better than saying I'm "big all over", lol.

I signed up for a WW meeting in April 2006 after reaching my then-highest weight of 361.  I'd just moved 3 states away, dealt with the sickness and eventual death of my "PopPop", a cancer diagnosis/treatment/surgery with my grandmother, job-hunting, etc etc.  I just looked in the mirror and didn't like what I saw.  I'd always been shapely and though I thought I was "big", I'd always embraced it.  But in April of 2006, the morning of my grandmother's mastectomy, I found myself so distraught.  I couldn't find anything to wear.  The hospital was about an hour away and we had to leave around 5am to get her situated, but I held everyone up because I simply felt fat in everything I put on.  While she was in surgery, I left the hospital to get breakfast and came across a Weight Watchers meeting.  I joined, stayed for the meeting and went back to the hospital to deal with my GMa.  Over the next few months, I followed the plan religiously, and got down to 309.

As I said before, I know how to lose weight.

The problem is that I haven't yet figured out how to 1) keep losing weight and 2) keep it off.  As I sit here and type to you, I must admit that when I went back to Weight Watchers about 7 weeks ago, my weight was 372.  Yeah.  I gained back everything I lost...plus some.  I've consistently lost when I HAVE weighed in (I missed a week or 2 during the holidays), but the progress is slow.  That's why I'm here.  I need help.  Something is broken and I'm going to try my hardest to fix it.  Not because I have clothes that I'd like to fit back into.  Not because I'm a maid of honor in my best friend's May wedding.  Not because I cringe everytime I get on a plane because I'm scared that I won't fit.  Not because I am increasingly more and more out of breath by doing simple tasks.  Not because I have developed asthma, and I know it's exacerbated by the extra weight.  Not because I miss my pretty, shapely legs and cringe when I see the fatty overhang around the front and back of my knees.  Not because I totally embarrassed myself on a recent vacation when I was too heavy to get on the jetski.  Not because I loathe my meaty arms and the "batwings" I've developed.  Not because I can't run around with my Goddie like I'd like to. 

I have to fix it because...well, it's broken.  I'm broken.  Somewhere in there, something isn't connecting and I have to figure it out.  I do well at so many other things and this will NOT be the thing to be the boss of me.  I'm way too stubborn for that.  I am the author of the dictionary that defines me and I will not allow obesity  or an unhealthy lifestyle keep me from doing anything that I want to do.  Not anymore.  I'm gonna fix this.