Third Time's the Charm

You know, I have two other blogs... both of them rather neglected...

One is my main blog, where my friends all go to look. Where I've gotten in trouble for posting some not particularly nice (albeit accurate) things about my step mother. Where people have found out things about me that I didn't want them to know (yes, my own fault, I mean, seriously...)

The other I made just so I could make comments on other people's blogs without having to go through a complicated anonymous commentary feature. I've used it a few times to say some vile things about my friends without having them know about it.

So, this will be my third blog (and fourth online diary, since I did write a hand-done html diary for a few years, the archives of which are all completely lost, and I wish they weren't.)

However, this is the only one where I have only one specific purpose in mind.

I wish to lose weight.

A lot. of weight.

I should say "I am going to lose weight." Or "I plan to lose weight." Perhaps I'm not really ready for a full life-change since I can only say "I wish."

I'm not talking about 5 pounds... or the Freshman Fifteen... I'm talking about probably a hundred pounds... that's a lot of weight to think about. My father constantly talks about needing to lose weight and the man probably weighs all of 140 pounds soaking wet. No, that's not me...

I am rather enormous. I wear a size 22. I'm just over five feet tall, maybe five three. If that. The last time I weighed myself (about five months ago at a doctor's appointment) I clocked in at 223 pounds. My 'ideal' body weight is 113 - 135 pounds.

Yeah. It's gonna be a long haul.

On the plus side: My husband of 11 years has decided he also wants to go on a diet. And the nice thing about it is that we decided this independently of each other, so right now, neither one of us feels pressured by what the other person wants. He has similar weight loss goals. He's 6 feet tall and the last time he weighed in, was coming in around 260 pounds. That was four years ago. I'm pretty sure he's gained weight since then.

Also, I know I can do it. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I came up gestational diabetic and had to go on a 1,500 calorie a day diet, plus injecting myself with insulin twice a day. My doctor told me I could gain NO weight while pregnant (which was, essentially, telling me to lose 30 pounds while pregnant!!). And I did it. When my pregnancy started, I weighed 237 pounds. When my pregnancy was over, I weighed 188. In nine months, I lost almost 50 pounds, and over the first six months of my daughter's life, I lost another 30. I got down to a size 16 jeans and almost into a 14. Then... I just let it go. It was easier not to worry...

You know what got to me... not the clothing sizes... or the aches in my knees... or the fact that I can't hold my daughter for more than a few minutes before I have to put her down again...

It was this picture:

What really got me is how weird and deformed I look... how tiny my head looks on top of this body that just expands in all directions around it.

I wear sleeveless shirts a lot, because I sweat. No matter what the temperature. If I'm wearing a shirt with sleeves, it takes about three hours before I have wet patches under my arms, despite changing my deodorant to a 'clinical strength'.

So...

This is our plan, my husband's and mine. Starting today, when he gets home from work, we're going to go for a walk... we'll walk three times a week to start; Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'm sure our daughter will enjoy it, she loves being outside, and I don't get outside nearly enough.

Heh. I wonder why.

In January, we're going to start attending Weight Watchers. We have several friends who've tried the plan and had success with it, and it's a balanced sort of plan that we think we can both follow.

Some other things:

At least for the time being, I don't plan to tell any of my friends that I'm on a diet. I have a couple of friends who mean well, but always manage to make me feel worse. One is the Lifetime Member of her weight watchers. I know that should be encouraging, that she's at her goal... but she was always such a tiny little thing. I mean, if you weigh 110 pounds, a two pound gain makes a huge difference. If I gain 2 pounds, no one would notice. Not even me. It's hard to feel encouraged by her, because she's ALWAYS been thin.

Another friend is a crummy dieter. For pretty much as long as I've known her, she's been on a diet, or just going to start a diet, or just given up on a diet... she cheats like crazy and she complains CONSTANTLY about dieting. It makes me want to eat an ice cream cake just to spite her. That's not her fault, and really, this is just about me. Her grousing about diets makes me want to eat the universe. So... I don't want to diet-buddy with her because I think I'd have to kill her, myself, or someone. And while I don't doubt being in prison would be enough depressing to cause me to lose some weight, there's got to be an easier way.

Also, I'm dubious about letting my dad know. Ditto on the always been thin thing. He's so skinny he disappears when he turns sideways. Also, he's a type-A Anal-Retentive fuckhead. He doesn't mean to be a fuckhead. But, he is, nonetheless, a complete fuckhead. I know he's trying to reform. And I appreciate it. But dieting is hard enough as it is without having to deal with fuckheadery, you know? He always wants to make things a contest. "Who can lose their goal weight faster!" Oh, come on, jackass, you can shave your eyebrow off and lose the weight. There's such a huge (pun intended) difference between 2 pounds and 100 pounds... there's no way I could win... I suppose if the contest is who can lose *more* weight, I'd probably win that without much trouble. He'd have to amputate a leg to catch up with what I could lose. But while my dad is keenly competitive, he's also not above stacking the odds in his favor. And he refuses to believe that men lose weight easier than women do, no matter how many studies have shown that to be true.

On the other hand, there's the great temptation to ask my dad to pay for it. Weight Watchers meetings are $40 a month, so for both of us, it's gonna take quite a large bite out of our budget. He could give it to us as a Christmas present, you know... but then, if he does, I have to report to him on how I'm doing, and he's going to nag me about failures (because of course, he's never failed in his life...) I don't know if it's worth the headache.

The last part of my plan is to keep this blog. I intend to post in it after each Weight Watchers meeting I have, and perhaps, after my 3 times a week walk.

So... wish me luck, if you want. Or not.