Everyone has a weight above which they refuse to go. Years ago, my line in the sand was 200 pounds. Now 200 pounds is my goal weight. Funny how things change with time.
Back in April I weighed 246 pounds–dangerously close to 250. Other than shoveling too much food into my mouth, I never got any exercise. The doctor put me on two different drugs to battle sky high cholesterol. My habits were slowly but surely killing me. Something had to change.
In May I started riding my bike again. Having spent the better part of the last two or three years on my ass, I lost eight pounds fairly quickly. Exercise was a good start but not the solution. The more I exercised, the more entitled I felt to eat whatever I wanted.
Twelve weeks ago I started Weight Watchers. Including the eight pounds I lost before then, I’ve lost at least twenty pounds. I’ll find out tomorrow morning when I step on the scales for my official weekly weigh in, but I expect to have lost another pound or two.
My weight loss hasn’t been what it could have been. My partner has done much better and has lost thirty pounds. He’s more likely to snack on low-calorie vegetables than the fruit I prefer, and he exercises much more regularly and for longer periods of time. He also eats a healthy bowl of high-fiber cereal for a bedtime snack rather than the ice cream I prefer. It’s okay–I love him anyway.
I checked my Body Mass Index today and discovered I’ve stepped down from “obese” to just “overweight.” I need to lose at least thirty-five pounds to reach “normal.” Sigh.
It will happen–eventually. I’ve accepted that the diet isn’t a phase, it’s a way of life. I can still eat the way I used to–once every two or three weeks.
When it cools off a bit, I’ll be able to exercise a lot more, too–at least until shorter days and the time change. I need to figure out something else to do once the weather turns cold. Who knows…maybe I’ll start going to the gym instead of sitting around in…
My Glass House