Friday, January 28, 2011

Mission Not So Impossible

It's easy to be overwhelmed. I am. Sometimes, when I think about the amount of weight that I need to lose it makes me want to sit down and a) cry b) eat more chocolate and/or c) lose the will to live. Despite all of this, I have one affliction; I am afflicted with this tiny thing called 'hope.' I'm full of hope that my life can be better, that I can be better. It's the eternal optimist in me that rears her dreamy head every so often if only to whisper in my ear that everything will be all right. It's what keeps me sane. For whatever reason, this time I am determined. Like a dog with a bone, I'm going to deal with this. I'm going to fix it, acknowledge it, own it. And if I fall down and have a piece of chocolate cake, I'm not going to beat myself up over it or use it as an excuse to slide into a food fugue. I'm going to be the Zimmer girl that I am and brush myself off, take the bull by the horns and get on with it.
When I was back in the US at Christmas, I met up with my friend, Patti. She was profiled here last summer with her 95lb weight loss. She has maintained it and credits her boot camp workouts as part of the formula for her success. But she said something to me that has stuck with me ever since. I had mentioned to her the overwhelming feeling of having to lose so much weight and she agreed and said that yes, it was hard, but it was doable.
Doable.
For the past month, that word has boomeranged around the inside of my until it has become my mantra. Doable. I figure, if anything, Patti knows. She's got the 95lbs off to back up that statement.
So I work on replacing my attitude of mission impossible with doable.
Doable, oh how I love that word.

Monday, January 24, 2011

A New Year

I've just returned from a fabulous and long overdue trip to the US. The boys and I had a blast and are counting the days until summer when we return.
I'm aware that I've been crap lately at posting on this blog. From my last post (in August) until now, I've been inert and supine on the couch and discovering the new (to me) world of television. Prior to my separation, I rarely, if at all, watched tv. Now, with the boys spending time with their father, I find I have a lot of time on my hands. Lots.
After the initial relief and euphoria of moving into my own place wore off, I was confronted with the question of 'Ok, now what? What do I do with the rest of my life?' Being one who avoids confrontation like the plague, I decided not to think about it and spend my time on the couch, zoning.
Four months later, enough is enough. Even as I write this, it's because I was sick to death of lying on the couch and watching endless tv.
From the couch, wrapped up in the lives of characters on my favorite shows, I could ignore what was happening in my own life: my problems and most of all my weight. But the truth is, I can't ignore it anymore. Especially the part about my weight. I know this sounds familiar and I've written plenty of posts where I've brushed myself off and started again. And fell down again. There are no guarantees that this time will be different. But I have to try.
Right now, I'm at a place in my weight- over 300lbs., a place in my wildest nightmares I'd never thought I'd be- where every single pound gained is felt. 50, 100lbs ago I could put on 10, 20 pounds and the only place I'd notice it was in my waistband. Not so anymore. Every pound is felt in every step and in any attempt to do anything.
So what on earth does it take for me to sit up and pay attention?
I'll tell you.
I can't ignore the fact that when I get up from a chair I can not stand up straight. I can't ignore that I have to limit myself to 2 trips upstairs- morning and evening- because that's all I can handle. I can barely bend over to put my socks on. I get breathless getting dressed in the morning. And don't even get me started on the state of my knees. Not to mention the endless list of diseases that I'm at risk for if I continue down this slippery slope of self gratification with food. Type 2 diabetes, anyone?
I can't ignore it anymore, as much as I want to. The time has come to get serious about my health.