The Big Apple

If I sound harsh in this post, it's because I finally had to get tough on myself. For a long time I was angry at myself for gaining so much weight. Now I don't waste time with anger, I just do what I need to do.

I'm on a quest to lose 45 pounds - I'm almost halfway there.

Since seventh grade, I had been petite and curvy, hourglass-shaped. I had a beautiful body just long enough to catch a husband, then immediately became pregnant. Things went downhill from there.

After enduring morning sickness, when I could finally eat again, I ATE. I packed on fifty pounds with my oldest. Thirty pounds eventually went away after he was born... twenty didn't. New pounds joined the original twenty. And more new pounds...

Through my child-bearing years, I made all kinds of excuses for not doing anything about my weight problem. At one time or another, I honestly thought these excuses were valid reasons for doing NOTHING. See how many sound familiar to you:

1) I was tired
2) I was nursing
3) I had a needy baby who cried every time I put him/her down
4) I had a toddler who needed naps
5) I had a kindergartener and only had a certain amount of time to get things done
6) I can't lose weight now, we're trying to have another baby and I'm just going to get fat again
7) My life is hard and I need treats to feel better
8) I deserve this ice cream, and therefore it has no calories and no consequences
9) Skinny people judge fat people and I don't want to be one of those
10) Skinny people are vain
11) Skinny people are unhappy because they can't eat anything. I'd rather eat what I want and be happy, even if it means I'll be fat
12) Skinny people have sold their souls to the skinny devil and possess secrets about weight maintenance that "normal" (fat) people will never know
13) I don't have a jogging stroller
14) I don't have a gym membership (and it's cold outside)
15) Or the right clothes
16) Or shoes
17) Or enough jogging bras (Oprah said that we busty chicks should wear two)
18) I have too many children to take care of
19) ...and too much housework
20) I'm not THAT fat
21) My husband thinks I'm beautiful no matter how fat I am so it doesn't matter
22) I'm SO fat that it's hopeless and I'll just have to live with it for the rest of my life.

Like Pear, my weight loss story started when I saw a picture of myself. My mother took a picture of me on my birthday. When I saw how overweight I'd become, I thought, this is the year.

I've always been a fat mother, I'd like to try being a skinny one - and I definitely don't want to deal with losing weight by the time I have grandchildren. Who knows what medical problems my fat body may have caused by then? Do I really want to try to start exercising when I'm feeling like crap, from diabetes and heart disease?

I started with some research. I calculated my ideal body weight using the Body Mass Index calculator. I borrowed my neighbor's BodyBugg for a few days, so I could get a good idea of how many calories I burned in an average day. I found a good diet to follow, and I started exercising regularly.

To say that watching my body change and improve has been thrilling would be a vast understatement. I'm starting to feel all kinds of things I didn't feel for a very long time, while I was sitting around feeling sorry for my chubby self: I feel beautiful, feminine, dainty, confident, worthy, smart, strong, amazing. Sexy, even. (Sorry, Pear.)

I'm not done yet. I have more chiseling to do, but I'm excited to do it, because I've finally figured out what works. Through effort, time, and patience, I'm excited to see, after almost twenty years, what my body will look like.

It's about dang time.