This is what it said this morning.
After my shower.
With wet hair.
And I’m ecstatic.
“Why? That’s freaking fat,” you say.
Ah, yes, grasshopper. You are correct. It is in fact, freaking fat. But you know what? In March 2004 that scale read 299.
So you know what that means, grasshopper? That means that in 5 more pounds, I will have lost 100 pounds.
And that is reason to celebrate!
It’s still freaking fat.
But it’s also freaking AWESOME.
My son looked at that picture of me and asked, “Who’s that, mommy?” And in a way, that makes me sad. That he doesn’t even recognize me. But in another way, I see how much I’ve changed. For the better.
Funny thing is, I still see me this way. A lot. In my mind’s eye. But when I look in the mirror, I see the truth.
And I can feel the changes. In my loose clothes. And on my body. Like bones. That I can see. Bones that have been hidden under layers of fat for most of my adult life. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve been shopping at Lane Bryant since high school. I haven’t felt or seen my collar bones since the ninth grade. I think that’s the last time I saw a 1 in front of my weight, too.
That day is coming, friends. It’s coming. And this time, there is nothing stopping me. I pray. I’ve been down this road plenty of times.
Never this close. Never within reach.
This is my first of many goals. To get that scale to not go over 200. That will be epic. That’s 20+ years of yo-yo dieting, yo-yo exercising in the making. That’s huge.
And I’m tired of the ride. I’m done with the roller coaster. We’ve made some major changes in the way we live and the way we eat that will effect us for good, for the rest of our lives. And it’s hard sometimes. For real. HARD. But it’s completely doable.
And for the first time in my life, I’m not dieting. I’ve just changed my diet. Make that, we, have changed our diet. My husband is on this ride, too folks. He’s lost 50+ pounds himself since the summer. (Take that, all you biggest loser contestants from BPF. Think he beats both teams combined.)
And we’ve worked hard. Not in counting calories, but in making good choices. Like getting a gym membership and actually using it. Or him taking the time at work to walk for some cardio. Dude walks a 5K in a snap these days. I’m so proud of him.
And coming to the realization that food is like a drug for us. For me, anyway. When I’m having a bad day, or a really hard time, I want to eat. Anything. And everything. All the time. And that’s not right. And that’s what makes it hard.
I’ve been medicating myself with food for far too long.
When my house burned down when I was 16, I ballooned up that year. I weighed 240 at one point in high school before I lost roughly 40 pounds before heading off to college and gaining it all back on dorm food.
And when I actually saw myself in this picture in 2004, I realized I needed to make some changes. That’s when I joined Weight Watchers and the gym at my church and lost 60 pounds. After I ran the Houston Half Marathon (oh yes I did) in January 2005, I began experiencing painful symptoms upon exertion which completely brought my exercising, running ways to a halt and I turned once again to my long-time comforter. Food.
I would be diagnosed with MS in June of 2005 and that’s when I quit exercising.
I quit dreaming.
I quit me.
I just quit.
When I got married in 2008, I’d say I was safely back up to about 265 or 275.
And then I lost some weight during my pregnancy with Eli because of the low-fat diet I was subjected to from the gallbladder issues. During his first year of life I continued to lose weight. I managed to get to 219 before getting pregnant with Aubin.
Then last summer, something clicked. For my husband and for me. (Although, admittedly, he started it.) And we’ve been going gangbusters ever since. It’s been only recently that we’ve really kicked it into high gear. Going fully plant-based and low fat. Which is not just good for our hearts, but good for my MS.
My biggest concern now is how I will respond the next time something big happens. The kind of big that gets me off track. The kind of big that makes me just not care. The kind of big that makes me want to quit.
I pray that when it hits, because it will, that I will be able to maintain. That I will care. That I won’t quit. And that I won’t turn to food for comfort, but instead to the One who is my Comforter. Please pray that with me if you are the praying sort.
Because I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward. I want to live my life. And I want to be healthy.
For me. For my husband. For my kids. And for their kids.
20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21