I have struggled with my weight essentially my entire life. From the semi-endearing tales of my mother grating baby biscuits into my bottle to keep up with my insatiable infant appetite, to the hand-drawn graph paper weight loss chart that was pinned to the wall of my bedroom, alongside my teen idols, to the binge-watching of various weight loss programs - the narrative of my life has been fat-and-wanting-to-be-thinner.
So cue January 5th this year. Armed with my latest gadget (FitBit) and all of the enthusiasm of someone who has yet to let the ink dry on their all too familiar New Year's resolutions, I hopped onto the scale praying to all that is holy (God, the Great Pumpkin, Jillian Michaels) that I would not see a number that began with 3. Despite having yoyo-ed for years (naturally always going up about 10lbs higher on the back swing each time) I had managed to stay within the 200s. No matter how narrow the margin there was something psychologically comforting in never having been a person who weighed 300lbs (please know that I make no judgment about people who weigh 300,400,500+ - this was just a psychological comfort blanket for me - we are all in this together!!). Exactly what the difference was between 285lbs, and 300lbs I can't say, all I know was it was a personal line in the sand that I didn't want to cross, perhaps because it would force me to face up to the reality of the situation, and like many people who have this struggle ignorance is bliss.
POP! This protective bubble I had built for myself burst as the 3 red numbers flashed up on the scale - 3-0-7. It had finally happened. The thing that I had dreaded. I was, not for the first time, the heaviest I had ever been. I was seeing numbers that I had hoped never to see, and the best and worst thing about it was the complete and total acceptance of the situation. I was that heavy because of things I had done and not done. The 45 pieces of white chocolate fudge I had at a family party. The 2 giant bottles of pink wine followed by Kraft Mac and Cheese (a deadly vice!) at girls' night. The hours I spent on the couch watching Law and Order: SVU while my husband hiked. These were the decisions I had made and they were the reasons why I saw the numbers I had dreaded.
So now what? Well as usual I sang the Never Again anthem. You know how it goes: never again will I have to start a diet*, never again will I be so out of shape, never again will I weigh X amount, this time next year I will be XXXlbs, no more excuses, no more waiting, I am gonna start [insert exercise here] first thing tomorrow, lets go to the grocery store and buy healthy foods, and on and on it goes. I was determined! I ate well, I walked miles and miles everyday - killing it in the FitBit challenges. I lost 30lbs in a matter of 3 months. I felt great. Old clothes started fitting. People started commenting on how well I looked. I felt fitter than ever. I wanted to be more active. Finally, I had hit rock bottom and was making the changes necessary to become the me I had always dreamed of.
And then BOOM! Life intervened.
Two graduations, a cross-country road trip and a minor surgery later and the weight had crept back on, and the good habits were slowly riding off into the sunset. The gain was mercifully only 5lbs this time (maybe my yoyo is broken), but here I am again. Hopping on the scale after an indulgent holiday weekend - Jello Shots, BBQ, 3 types of dessert, my body weight in Cheetos, a bath tub full of pina coladas - and getting ready to belt out another chorus of Never Again.
The new motivator is DietBet, and so far I love it. I'm still a FitBit fanatic, and I'm giving WeightWatchers a bash again (we must be on round 4 or 5 by now). The weight is starting to come back off (almost 3lbs in as many days - yay!), I am eating all the right things, planning active weekends, and making healthy choices once more.
After over a quarter of a century and countless reinvigorated "never again" moments, perhaps what I am realizing is that for me there is no "a-ha moment". No one day I will point to where it all changed for me: where I stopped overindulging at parties, where I no longer grabbed a Snickers at the checkout when I had gone too long between meals, or where I skipped out on a workout when I felt too tired. Making the right choices is a one step at a time deal. Every day I need to wake up like its January 5th 2015 and make the decision to eat right, work out, and make the best choices for my health.
*I use diet as short-hand for healthy eating programs (Weight Watchers, low calorie, low fat, low carb, etc.)