The Beginning

So here I sit. My Jenny Craig food is put away and I contemplate the journey that I am embarking on. I must admit, I am freaked out. I am worried that I will fail (again). I am dreading that hungry feeling, the shakes, the headaches. A wise man once said nothing worth doing is ever easy. This will not be easy, but it is definitely worth doing.

My story begins likes this. I was never overweight as a kid. As a matter of fact, quite the contrary. I was tall and skinny and I remember my grandma telling me that I was so lucky~ I could eat whatever I wanted and stay so skinny! I guess I took that to be the truth, when in fact, it has become a lie that has haunted me for nearly 20 years now. Maybe it began when I was 16 and my first job was at the ice cream parlor. I loved that job. I worked every weekend my last 2 years of high school and completely indulged in the "perks". I LOVE ice cream. People would say "you must be sick of ice cream" and I would just laugh. No way. No how. As much as I would like to be sick of ice cream , it will never happen. It's kind of like those people who are "addicted to the gym". Oh, how I wish this was me. (sidenote- if one more person does in fact state to me that they are addicted to the gym, or to running, or to pilates, I may just punch them in the face- out of pure jealousy, of course. You "gymmies" have been warned.) I have spent the last few years coming into my own and accepting the very way I was made. I am totally type "B", which is good in many situations. I do not stress out easily; I am calm, mellow, easy going, laid back. I have no problem relaxing. The problem is, I may be TOO mellow, causing laziness to set in. I lack motivation when it comes to my health. I would rather take a nap than take a walk. I have no one to blame but myself. I just don't get into the uncomfortableness of exercise. My mind REMEMBERS that it sucked last time I went for a run and I don't want to feel that again. Hence, I am overweight and out-of-shape. And being overweight hasn't bothered me all that much for the past 10 years or so. My husband keeps his sweet mouth shut on the issue, friends are kind and unspoken and my kids don't seem to love me any less. But as I stepped on the scale last week and hit an unmentionable number, (i will mention it when I'm good and ready) I just felt sick. I WAS sick. I AM sick. My blood pressure is high, my cholesterol is high and I have recently been put on meds to control both. WHAT?? I understand my grandparents being on these meds, even my parents, but ME? I am 38 years old. I feel like I'm 60. My body aches. My knees hurt, my back hurts. And I have way too much more life to live to go around feeling like a big blob. I want to know my grandkids and be one of those cool grandmas who does all kinds of fun stuff with the kiddos. (like MY mom- who is type A, a regular walker, totally fit and a bit diet "obsessed", but that's another post).

So here goes. I start tomorrow. My goal is to lose 50 pounds. (yikes!)