The time has come. Welcome, my friends, to my "Blog of Shame."
Two weeks ago, my friend Heather called me up and said, "Hey, Abby, I really need to lose some weight. How would you like to team up on this? Help support each other long distance? Keep each other accountable? I can commit to 30 minutes of exercise a day. How about you?"
I said, "Sure thing." Out loud.
In my head, I was screaming, "NO! I'M NOT READY FOR THIS! I CAN'T DO IT AGAIN! LEAVE ME WITH MY CHOCOLATE!! I CAN'T FAIL AGAIN!"
But I'd told her yes, even though I hadn't worked out in months, even though my eating was horrendous, even though I knew, without stepping on the scale, that I'd done more damage in the 5 months I'd been off plan that I was ready to admit to.
I'd told her yes, so I had to figure out a way to keep my promise.
It took me a week to get used to the idea. It took me another week to put together a meal plan, find my tennis shoes and the courage, to start all over, from scratch.
Last night we went grocery shopping and bought a week's worth of healthy food. Clean eating, lean proteins, lots of fruits and veggies. No plan, no counting, just healthy food. Food---check.
Before I went to bed last night I set my alarm clock for 7:45 a.m. I set my workout clothes, sports bra, and tennis shoes in the middle bedroom near my elliptical so I wouldn't have any excuses. I made sure my iPod was charged up with the New Kids on deck. Workout---check.
This morning, when my alarm went off, I actually got up, got dressed and worked out. Granted, I only got 18 minutes on the elliptical, and 5 minutes with handweights before I was ready to collapse, but still, it was something. Somewhat proud of myself, I stepped in the shower, prepared for my day.
Finally, the moment of truth. The scale was staring at me, and I was staring back. I started trying to talk myself out of getting on it..."You don't need to know your number just now. If you do it, you'll psych yourself out. Just leave it alone, you're just trying to be healthier!" Then I found myself trying to convince myself to get on the stupid thing..."You'll just keep being curious until you know for sure how much you've gained. You need to know what you're facing! Maybe it'll kick you into gear!"
Deep breath. Step on. Beep. Look down. Holy shit.
In the last 5 months of being off plan, of eating garbage and being lazy, I have managed to gain back every single pound of the 37 pounds I lost in 2007.
E-V-E-R-Y S-I-N-G-L-E P-O-U-N-D.
With the number "244" glaring back at me in that hateful red scale-color, I could barely get my breath. That explains it, that explains everything. The aching back, the sore knees, the headaches, the need for contant sleep....
Here I am, lecturing my father about sleep apnea, my mother about diabetes, and I'm right behind them, killing myself.
Slowly killing myself.
Suicide by chocolate.
The fear is creeping in. This isn't about vanity, about a size 10, about feeling sexy again. Granted, those are all perks, but that's not what this is about right now.
I'm in the fight for my life, and it just hit me today. With breast cancer, diabetes, heart disease all looming in my family history, how could I have let myself become the statistic? I'm at a greater risk now than ever before. And I think I'm going to get pregnant??? Have a baby???? In THIS BODY??? HA! It's sad that it's laughable.
It's up to me to save my own life.
And that's the scary part. There's no lifeguard to throw me a life raft as I'm drowning in my own fat. It's up to ME to break the cycle, and for those who might not have noticed, my track record's not so great.
I'm not going to make any promises, or set any goals. I'm not going to write here that I'm back on my feet, that I'm excited about weight loss this time, that I can do it, I can do it, I can do it.
The truth is, I'm fighting for my life this go around. And it's scary to me that I've let it get this far out of hand again.
You know, in hind sight, maybe I do have a lifeguard of sorts. Heather, way down in Louisiana, who cares enough about me to offer me a hand. It's not like I didn't know I was fat, or that I needed to get back on plan. But it was Heather that gave me the nudge. So thanks for being my lifeguard, Heather.
You'll never know how much I needed it.