Today was already set to be a day of celebration for my daughter and me, because we recently moved past a not-so-good past, official and legal on paper. We started making plans last week of all the silly but therapeutic things we were going to do today to celebrate and find closure, and many of them had to do with food. As such, I decided I would weigh in early this week, this morning instead of Wednesday, in case I just so happened to hit my goal, since I was certain today's festivities will be adding a few lbs. How can they not when they involve things like donuts and potatoes, Peeps, s'mores, and fast food? I know, I know, but those who don't know me don't realize why today's celebration is such a big one. We were not going to count calories at all today, and I'm glad we didn't. I'm not sure my calculator goes that high, and I might have caused Spark to glitch. I even went on a double-date with my kid sister at my favorite Coffee shop and didn't mind that my little hottie was all decked out with whipped cream to celebrate the occasion. That boyfriend of mine is so shameless, dating her, too, right in front of me!
That said, when I stepped on the scales this morning, lo and behold, I had something else to celebrate! After all these weeks, months, and even years, I have done it! I have hit that weight goal that I've sought for so long, that elusive 155 lbs. This is the lowest end of my healthy weight range, which I have been told is between 155 and 160 lbs., so it builds in a 5-lb. cushion for me (and I know all about lb.-related cushioning, since I was quite the overstuffed upholstery for most of my adult life). I have lost 174 lbs., what I set out to lose when I started on New Year's of 2014. I lost my first 100 lbs. by October 1 of that year, and the rest took longer, especially through a very personally difficult and stressful 2015, but here I am, at the weight I thought I would never see again. Here I am, knowing they won't have to use an extra Mason jar with my urn if I opt to be cremated or rent a crane so no one gets a hernia of I opt to be boxed when I finally pop my clogs. (My bestie in the world is a Brit I've never met, so I occasionally slip into Brit idioms, which sound quite humorous in my southwestern Ohio-almost-redneck-but-not-qu
ite accent). Here I am, knowing that I have statistically increased my changes of popping those clogs later in life and that I might have a better chance against the diabetes and the heart attacks that took my loved ones. Here I am, able to merge right at Cato and to fit in normal human sizes of jeans and to fasten my Corolla seatbelt without the car actually audibly groaning when I sit down in it. Here I am, able to lie in bed with plenty of room for both of my dogs to share. Here I am, confident enough to be in front of a camera rather than behind it. Most of all, here I am, humbled by this miracle that has happened to me, because nothing about me is so special that the weight should have come off. I am a 45 year old, stressed-out-all-the-time woman who literally gets paid to sit on her rear all day and halfway into the night. I don't cook (My sister literally sent me a YouTube tutorial today on how to boil water). I don't exercise (I did walk twenty feet today to hide a geocache, and I carried three bags of fat clothes to the car for the Salvation Army, if that counts). Yet, it's come off, and here I am, awed and thankful and feeling better and more hopeful than I have in a long, long time.
I want to thank each and every one of you again for your kind words of support. I only wish I had started using the Community feature sooner, because this camaraderie we share on a difficult quest is a big part of success for all of us. It is said that knowing is half the battle. Perhaps the other half is knowing you aren't fighting that battle alone!
I will continue to blog as I move into maintenance next week, and I say again... If I can, so can you! If you need a little encouragement, don't forget to see your weight loss in terms of visible items, such as in this picture I just took today...because I've lost all 17+ of the bags of potatoes in it! I've lost an Obama, too, but we won't discuss politics here.
Anyway, my Sparkie friends, whether you are on Day 1 or Day 800, do not give up. Do not forget to reward yourself for successes. Do not rush yourself. Do not listen to negativity. Do not forget/neglect to log every single calorie you eat.... And it might be good if you do not eat Peeps, Arby's, pineapple upside-down cake, and mountains of tater tots all in one day either. My rumbling stomach and aching head asked me to tell you that last bit!
P.S. I've been contacted by a Spark staff writer, so it seems a story is being composed about my journey. I am not sure if/when they will post it, but I'll let you know when I find out!