The 391

"I need to tell you something."

Thus the conversation began in my house last night during a 15-second commercial break. My husband and I were lying on our bed watching a show on-line. (It was Castle in case you're curious.) Whenever I start with, "I need to tell you something," I know I have my husband's undivided attention. I've been known to admit to some pretty radical deeds. (And no, I won't confess those here, in case you're still curious.)

"What is it?" asks the husband.

"I've been losing weight behind your back."

Yes, I said those exact words. No, my husband didn't feel I had anything to confess. Yes, he was very supportive.

See, today is the 13th day on my journey to weight loss and, until last night, I hadn't told anyone outside of my blogging friends. It just seemed too painful to tell my family AGAIN that I was trying to lose weight AGAIN.

But it occurred to me. I need to have faith that it is going to work this time. That I am going to be successful this time. And, by not fully signing on to the challenge, (ie keeping it a secret), I wasn't fully committing to it working out.

So I told him.

I feel better.

Here's to the next 378,
(honest) Fat Girl

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My glass can fill, when drinking through the night.
For the way you do not take up space.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most thirsty need, by lunch and candlelight.
I drink thee freely, as men strive with thirst.
I love thee purely, as they turn from Coke.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my thin self's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my diet drinks. I love thee with the straw,
Lips, tears, of all my life!
And, if I choose,
I shall but love you better after lunch...

So. I've been avoiding my blog today like most people are avoiding the H1N1 Flu Virus. Why? I crashed last night. I totally crashed and burned. It was like someone else's spirit took over my body and began making choices without my consent. Like a really, really bad version of Freaky Friday.

And the worst part? I had a doctor's appointment today. You know--that horrible place where they make you stand on the squeaky scale and you watch in horror--with someone else watching over your shoulder--as the number climbs?

So all day I've been feeling guilty. I know that I packed on a pound since yesterday. And I've been working so hard...blah blah blah.

I go to the doctor's office, stand on the scale, and would you BELIEVE that I didn't even watch the number. I decided--what's the point? It's going to hurt even more...

...My doctor came in and congratulated me on losing 13 pounds since last time I was in her office one month ago. The problem? THERE'S NO WAY I LOST 13 POUNDS! I am a daily weigher. All gloves off, I admit it. I WEIGH EVERY DAY!

So I think the scale must have gone on the fritz. But I'll never know because my eyes were closed. And I wasn't about to ask her to rewind the scale scene.

So. Looks like I have 13 pounds to lose before going back to the doctor's office.

Here's to the next 380,
(honest) Fat Girl

Check out Tricia's ginormous giveaway!

(But don't win, because that's my plan!!!)

Here's to the next 381,
(Happy) Fat Girl

[Taps the microphone] Am I on? Testing...1, 2, 3...

Today is Thought Thursday and I have a lot on my mind:

I listen to the news every morning on my way to work. I roll down the windows, let the wind whip my hair, and I listen to a pair of professionals rattle off a list of recent events, comment on the weather, and outline the areas around town where the traffic is bad. Rarely do either of these people say anything shocking or unprofessional.

Until today.

Today they were discussing Tonya Harding and whether or not she would make a good participant on a reality show about hockey. Out of nowhere, both of the news anchors began laughing at her weight. They called her "Porky," and said they recognized fat when they saw it.

Now, I know about the whole Nancy Kerrigan drama. I stood in a shopping mall as a thirteen-year-old with baited breath and watched as she cried about her broken laces. Believe it or not, I actually wanted her to win. (Underdog syndrome, perhaps?) Anyway, I know that Tonya hasn't always been...shall we say...wise. But why mock her weight? What does her weight have to do with anything?

Bottom Line: Why is it excusable for professionals to mock heavy people? Sexism is wrong. Racism is wrong. BUT LAUGHING AT FAT PEOPLE IS A-OKAY.

In a country where people claim to want fat people to "get healthy," don't you think they'd realize that encouragement and support go a lot further than mockery and unkindness? PERHAPS they are perpetuating the problem.

More to come. This post is long enough already.

Here's to the next 381,
(honest) Fat Girl

85 minutes and 43 seconds.

I finally had a chance to sit down and watch Episode 1 of this season's Biggest Loser. And I have to say, I enjoyed it. It was motivational. Despite the yelling and "show drama," I like Jillian. She makes me want to crawl to the gym on my knees, (which, by the way, would take me 85 minutes and 43 seconds--and the gym is next door).

I, for one, would rather be yelled at/motivated to change than be sitting on the couch, headed in the wrong direction.

As always, I made a list. I love lists. This one is of key take-aways--things that were said that I could identify with or be challeged by:

1. It's all about second chances.
2. Don't ever say you can't do anything.
3. Now is the start of the new me.
4. I feel like someone has stolen my dream.
5. How can you take these tragedies and turn them into opportunities?
6. All you have to do is change your mind.
7. It's a choice. Make a different choice.
8. This is a mountain I've got to climb.
9. I am changing [my] health from the inside out.
10. You really can go beyond that point of pain.

Here's to the next 383,
(healthy) Fat Girl

Dear Diet Soda,

I love you. You know I do. We've spent a lot of wonderful times together--late at night, early in the morning, when times were good, when times were bad--but unfortunately, our time together has come to an end.

When I was with you, I made lots of bad choices. Your friends--your sweet, sweet friends--often joined our parties uninvited. You know who they were.

In truth, I've used you as a crutch. I've needed water all these years, and I'm sorry to say, I used you as an unfortunate substitute. Please forgive me. You did not ask for that kind of treatment.

I know you'll be happy with someone else.

Here's to the next 384,
(honest) Fat Girl

Today was the first day I've been away from this blog ALL DAY! But...it is after ten and I am here.

Today I taught a class, did a 2 1/2 hour photo shoot of a lovely senior, went to church, and had supper with my family.

I'm tired. And I'm ready to start week 2 of this journey to good health. I had pizza tonight--really hoping it doesn't mess with my weigh-in. My choices were pizza or my shoes. As much as I am aware that pizza probably wasn't the best decision, I watched a show recently that highlighted how dangerous the mold on shoes can be--so I was in a lose/lose situation.

Here's to the next 385,
(hopeful) Fat Girl

This afternoon I did something so difficult that I can only compare it to:

solving world peace
climbing Mount Everest
explaining Richard Simmons' candy-striped Dolfin shorts

I went to the gym. Now, before you look down your nose at me and wonder how I could compare something "so trivial" as gym attendence to the aforementioned Dolfin shorts, please understand that I hate going to the gym alone. I am nearly fearful of going alone. I'm convinced I will either get jumped in the parking lot or laughed at on the treadmill. (And I'm not always sure which would be worse.)

Neither happened.

I did it. 30 minutes of working out broke a good sweat and I am home to forever relive the experience in my heart. I really need to make a habit of this.

Did you know Richard Simmons considered becoming a priest?

Here's to the next 386,
(healthy) Fat Girl

So the thing I've been most afraid of lately is the first time I will "fall down" on this new road to health. Well. I don't need to be fearful any more. It happened last night. Totally fell off my plan, face-first into a bowl of dessert.

I won't list out my torturous demise. There would be no point. But at least it's behind me. I actually feel good about that.

I know that I will mess up. And, more importantly, I now know that I will be just fine.

Today is a new day. I had a good first week. I'm putting this behind me. There is still plenty of time to keep moving forward.

Here's to the next 386,
(honest) Fat Girl

Today is Free Friday! Yay! So today I am going to post random pieces from my life. Like my tear-off calendar page from this morning:

"To try to change outward attitudes and behaviors does very little good in the long run if we fail to examine the basic paradigms from which those attitudes and behaviors flow."

Here's to the next 387,
(honest) Fat Girl

P.S. I've already declined the French toast shoved under my nose this morning, avoided the doughnuts in the kitchen at work, and turned down the lovely piece of pumpkin bread offered to me by a co-worker. Why do Fridays equal food???!

Okay. So today is the first installment of Thought Thursday, and I have something on my mind:

Yesterday I was thinking about the way we learn. Learning to walk, for instance, generally comes with an arm to hold on to. Learning to ride a bike occurs after the critical training-wheels period. Growing strong happens with the gradual addition of weight during strength training--not the overnight increase of dumbells or sand.

But losing weight is just supposed to happen. It's a hit or miss. It's an all or nothing.

Sure, there are books and recipes and support groups--I am aware of all that--but the actual losing weight is all or nothing. i.e. A day is considered a failure after one wrong choice or pound gained. (Scratch that. Failure is a pound maintained.)

Here is the method I am proposing:

I will learn to lose weight by gradually adding restrictions and raising the bar on my goals.

Goal 1: to make good decisions for one full day.
Goal 2: to make good decisions for two full days.
Goal 3: to make good decisions for three full days.
And so on.

When I hit the bump in the road, it's back to one full day. With celebrations to follow each new goal achieved. It's my version of strength training.

Why not?

Here's to the next 388,
(honest) Fat Girl

So last night as I was tossing and turning in bed trying to sleep, I had a blogging brainstorm. It goes like this:



Magazine Monday: when I will *finally* get to share the treasures I've found in my reading
To-do List Tuesday: when I will add to the growing list of things I plan to do when I'm thin
Weigh-in Wednesday: when I will obsess about my weight, (thankfully, it's one day, right?)
Thought Thursday: when I will write a monologue that makes Jay Leno cry
Free Friday: when I will...do...whatever I want, I guess

And then on the weekends, I'll wrap it all up, I guess.

Here's to the next 389,
(happy) Fat Girl