You know those things about me. What you don't know is that 9 years ago, I was "thin." I have no idea what I used to weigh because I refused to step on a scale, but I know that I was confident in my body. I was strict about my diet and I used to work out religiously. Cut to 9 years and about 100 pounds or so later, and things have changed drastically. After I had my daughter, my body turned into - well, I don't feel like it's my own body I'm stuck inside of, but someone elses entirely. I cry when I look in the mirror. When you look at me, you see a pudgy girl "with a pretty face." You don't see that I love my family intensely. You don't know that my husband & I were high school sweethearts, and that he is my best friend. You don't see that I love road trips and camping and concerts. You don't see a girl who wants more than anything to run a 5K, or to be able to climb the steps at Red Rocks without needing an inhaler to do so. You don't know that I'm artistic or that I love to write. You don't know that I love, love, love to dance even though I'm probably terrible at it. You don't know that I have a great job that brings a lot of opportunities. You don't know that I love to go on cruises and that my husband and I want to travel together when we retire. You don't know that I have a soft spot for big oafy labs, or that I am Auntie to 7 nephews and one niece. You don't know any of those things, because you see a fat girl, and that's it.
In turning 30, I realized that I spent a lot of years trying to pretend that I was confident in who I was no matter what shape or size that version of me was presented in. But it's not true. I do care. And I don't want this shell to be mine anymore. I want to wear a sundress and not have my thighs rub together. I don't want my shoe size to be a 9 because my body weight is flattening my feet. I don't want there to be any X's in the tags on my clothing. I want to be able to run and play with my daughter. I want to be able to cross my legs comfortably and not feel like I'm going to barf when I tie my shoes each time because my gut is squishing the air out of me. I want to not have ripped off belt loops on my jeans because I couldn't quite wiggle into them this time. I need the change. I crave the change. I have to make it happen.
There's a big prize being dangled in front of my face, too if I want it bad enough. And oh do I want it. My husband has made me a promise to buy me something I've wanted for the better part of 15 years. The prize is mine for the taking, but I won't share what it is until it's more within reach.
I invite you to read along as I chronicle this weight loss journey for myself. I'm going to blog it for a couple of reasons. Writing it down allows me to go back and review good and bad parts. It also creates a requirement for accountability. I have made my promise now, to you Dear Reader to log my progress, my hiccups, my achievements and prove that I can find that girl who's somewhere deep down inside of me, swimming in a vat of liquid cheese!
I started my challenge a couple of weeks ago, so the starting details below are technically a little skewed, but we don't have to worry about that. It's the end result that counts!
Thanks for the support!
H
Starting Weight: 254 LBS
Starting Pant Size: 18
Starting Shirt Size XL - XXL
Starting Bra Size - 38D
Starting Shoe Size - 9
Tools Used: One Gym Membership
(Goal for now: 4 days/30 min. a day.)
One weight loss tracker app on my phone that allows me to track calories consumed and earned.
GOAL: 180LBS
Time frame: April 2012 - 2lbs/week
Good for you! I'm so proud of you for starting this and being accountable not only to the internet, but to yourself most importantly. I love you and I'm cheering you on!
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