I'm not sure when exactly I got fed up. Perhaps it was when I looked in the mirror while riding King Arthur's Carousel at Disneyland and wondered what Jabba the Hut was doing on a carousel. Perhaps it was seeing the irrefutable evidence of quadruple chins on our Christmas pictures. Or perhaps it was even when I began refusing to wear shirts that didn't go down to the knees.
Whenever it was, it wasn't that long ago that I decided it was high time to be losin' some weight. I had begun gaining some serious weight about 10 years ago after I was in a serious car accident and tore my ACL. I couldn't walk for about 4 months, and needed a heavy, awkward brace for months more. After that, it was easy to find excuses to not exercise. "My knee hurts too much" or "The sun is shining too brightly" were popular refrains.
Having grown up eating delicious food lovingly prepared by German and Italian grandmothers, I kept on eating as if I was still the athelete I had been nearly all my life. The difference was, I was no longer burning anything off through exercise, but old eating habits were hard to break. I have an unfortunate one-sided love affair with bread, pasta, and cheese. Really, though, there are not too many types of food that I will refuse to eat.
Having a "surprise blessing" pregnancy with my extra weight helped to propel me into a "high-risk" pregnancy. I had to inject insulin into myself three times a day. I had to take oodles of the only high blood pressure medication approved for use with pregnant women. I am one of the only women I know who actually lost weight during pregnancy.
Thinking about how I would like to not have another high risk pregnancy where I spent the entire day on the couch, exhausted from having taken a shower, was not quite enough to propel me to lose weight. The fact that my blood pressure was borderline high didn't seem to be enough either. Looming on the horizon was the fact that I was extremely likely to get diabetes again if I didn't lose weight didn't have much of an effect. Also being diagnosed with arthritis in my spine was not inspiration enough to lose weight to ease the pressure on the disks.
I don't know exactly when I got fed up, but I did. I was tired of the lethargy and feeling like I had my own zip code wherever I went. I was tired of being the heaviest mother in my son's playgroup. I was tired of looking in the mirror and wondering why I thought I still looked ok when I obviously needed to shed excess pounds. Perhaps it was some sort of misguided protective mental denial.
So, I began working out on our treadmill that had been ungraciously taking up an entire corner of my bedroom, being the proverbial dust-catcher. Not to overly congratulate myself, but I am losing weight and feeling ever so much better. I don't think this is a fly-by-night, New Year's resolution sort of thing. I find myself craving the exercise, eating less because my body does not want excess food. I find myself feeling lighter and more like myself than I have in a very long time. I still have a very long way to go, but at least I think I am on the right track. One chin down, two to go!