So as I posted yesterday, I was at my heaviest at 224 lbs. That was several years ago. I remember not caring what I ate. And eat I did. Then I would feel guilty for all that I was eating and would decide to diet. I would always start my diet on Monday and by Wednesday, I would forget that I was suppose to be dieting. But there was always another Monday, when I would attempt to diet again. And this cycle went on for years.
I joined and rejoined Weight Watchers too many times to count. I never lasted very long on the program. And then I tried the South Beach Diet and lost several pounds. I got down to 211. South Beach was fairly easy as long as I never ate any bread, potatoes or pasta.
Then my rock hard, fitter than fit daughter, Maria, convinced me to start working out. I was a couch potato and loved it. Even though the word EXERCISE has 8 letters, it was definitely a 4 letter word to me. Walking? Didn’t Tim Russert die after walking on a treadmill? That would really make me mad if I died after a work out. But I knew my daughter was right. I had to start getting my body in motion.
I found a trainer and worked my butt off 2-3 times a week. I was tired after my workouts but I felt alive. John and I also joined Gold’s Gym and I either swam every day or walked/run on the tread mill. I continued on a low carb diet and got down to 188. I maintained that weight for two years.
Slowly but surely the weight started to creep back on. I quit the trainer and we quit Gold’s Gym and the couch once again became my best friend. My “thin” clothes were getting so tight that I had to I break out my “fat” clothes. And I had plenty of “fat” clothes. Thank God I kept them for a rainy fat day. And boy did it rain.
Then that deciding moment in my life hit. My grandson, who was a freshman last year at Eureka High School and the starting quarterback on the freshman football team, called me. He said “Grandma, it is a custom for the football players to ask someone special to wear their jersey to the first game. I would like you to wear mine.” Oh my gosh! I was so honored. He brought me the jersey and when he left, I tried it on. I could not get it on. I sure tried. I stretched it and prayed it would fit but there was no way his jersey in any way shape or form was going to fit me. I sheepishly called him and said “Cameron, I am so honored that you asked me to wear your jersey, but I can’t get it on.” He was so nice and understanding. And I was ashamed.
I decided my time had come. It was time in my life that I needed to do something about my weight. So 1 year ago, on September 4th, 2012, I joined Weight Watchers for the last time in my life. According to Weight Watcher’s scale I weighed 201. On my scale (which I like a whole lot better) I weighed 199.
And this is where my journey begins.
To be continued….
Pants Fallin Down 