Losing weight isn't something that a chunky person can just do.
Trust me on that.
I believe it's a series of events that lead up to the decision, the breaking point, the final determination that it's happening now. I've been thinking about what led me to mine. Which was more than a year in the making. And I don't find that odd. Are you chunky? Were you chunky? It's a process your heart, soul, and brain have to go through. Here are some of my reasons...in no particular order...and keep in mind, these are spread out over an amount of time...
* Driving my car crammed full of youth and their luggage for a church activity 1 1/2 hours from home...it was a lovely drive...I love "my" teenagers... At one point, they were looking at pictures on my ipod. I'm watching one girl's face as she's staring at my wedding photo...she said, "that's you?" I said yup. She stared at it for quite a long time. I knew what she was thinking...and then she said it...words that are seared into my memory, "You were hot!"
Awhile back, she grabbed me at church and said, "You're losing weight!!!" I told her that she was one of my big motivators...I then tell her this story from 1 1/2 years ago...she was mortified and apologized. I said no need, she didn't say it to be mean, and I completely agreed with her. I'm grateful to her for that.
* My sister just younger than me. She does that mean Jillian Michaels workout. I didn't even make it through the first session. My 'quiet' sister? She does the whole thing! She says that she is a queen. I am impressed. And although she always has gorgeous legs, she's looking so good. If she can do it, I can do it.
* My sister down one more...my mental twin...holy cow. She is determined! She is losing weight. She says at a slow but permanent pace. I say I don't care the pace, she looks so good. I don't get to see her very often and when I saw her last spring, I about cried. I was so happy for her, so proud of her, and so frustrated with myself. Because I want that! We're the same height...I'm 6 1/2 years older...realistically, I could look like that and it was my own fault that I didn't. Step it up. Just have to do it.
* Two nieces of mine...that used to work out together. They introduced me to T-Tapps. Which I'll be forever grateful. They seemed to have fun working out together. ??? Fun..working out? Unless it's a hike, I do not understand. But they got a bug in my head...and it wouldn't leave...
* Years back, I said to my doctor that I was overweight...that was poundage ago, but I was overweight. He looked at me and said, "You're perfect how you are." Nice, but not true. And it stuck with me. The nice, but not true part. The desire to have that be a true statement. I'll never be Elle...that's okay. I can be perfect how I am at 159. Or 155. Or thereabouts.
* I hated my clothes. I hated buying clothes. I hated how I looked in clothes. And out of clothes. :)
* My BMI number had me in the morbidly obese range. Me. Morbidly obese.
* Dr. Dukan said perseverance. Perseverance. Perseverance. That's a powerful word.
* Watching the series 'Addicted to Food' on OWN. I love that series. Wish they'd do more episodes. I need to check on hulu and see if it's available to rewatch.
* My 'new' old doctor used to be fat. I would have never guessed. She's one of those elegant ladies that always looks perfect, even on no sleep...which I do not understand...my makeup fades and everyone knows. This lady...was fat. And she isn't anymore and hasn't been for so long. She said she believed in me. Realistically, she probably forgot about me five minutes later, but...she remembered me a few months later when I returned and had lost almost 30 pounds, lowered my cholesterol enough to not need meds, etc.
* My daughters are adults now. You often hear about how guys say to look at the girl's mom...you'll see how they're going to end up. My mom was a skinny minnie. I don't want any potential mates looking at me and thinking, "hmm...well...guess she'll gain weight...look at her chunky monkey momma..." I just don't want that.
* I don't want an ugly mom-of-the-bride dress. I do not want it. I don't want the miserable shopping experience. I want to be happy and just enjoy the days as they happen...feeling good in my clothes makes it possible to forget about that part.
* My husband's face as he smiles and says he's proud of me. And how his arms go around me more because they can. That feels good...to be wrapped up more instead of them not going around me as much.
* Don't pretend you don't know this one: looking forward to the day when my thighs and butt match the toilet seat instead of being bigger. You know what I'm talking about.
* My mom called me 'Fatso' growing up. It was a term of endearment. I was skinny. Once, she said, that she only used it for skinny people, so no worries if she used the word. It was when she stopped calling you that...well...you get the picture. If mom were alive today, she wouldn't have called me 'Fatso' for a very long time. I want to be where my mom would have called me 'Fatso' again. Don't get all PC on me...it was never said in a mean way and my mom didn't look down on chunky folks. It's just something I remember...
Those are most of the things that got me here. Those are things I think about.
Perseverance.
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