Good news, my friends: I’m 15 pounds down, now — 15.2 as of this morning, to be exact. And why not? To me, every .2 pounds counts. (My scale reads in .2 increments.)
Of course, I’d love to be about 215.2 pounds down, but I know this weight will be slow coming off; a lot slower than it went on, no doubt. Still, I’m thrilled with a three pound loss, this week, since the two week mark is typically when the initial water weight is lost and the body catches up from initial losses. Last week, I figured I’d have no loss at all this week. So, three pounds? Oh, yeah.
That’s a 15 pound sweet potato, folks. My body is now missing 15 pounds it had, before.
I want and need to remember to be happy about every single pound gone, and not get in a hurry about things. I know I have a tough, long fight ahead of me, and so far, it’s been quite easy; but then, the beginning of diets usually are. It’s when the stalls, plateaus, cravings, and mental hurdles arrive that it becomes tough.
Right now, I’m focusing on living my life realistically while I wait for the larger loss. There are considerations in my life that even moderately heavy people don’t tend to worry about; I will be happy when these things are no longer a factor. One of my big fears is going somewhere public and hoping they have chairs that can accommodate my weight. We’re going to such a place tomorrow; it’ll be a gorgeous fall day and we’ll be at a restaurant, with friends, where we typically like to sit out on the deck and enjoy the weather. But — they have plastic chairs outside, and I fear sitting in one and breaking it.
That’s a real fear, by the way; there’s a diner in my little town, and they have 60’s and 70’s style tables and chairs — the kind most of us middle-aged folks saw in our homes, growing up. These aren’t standard-issue restaurant chairs, in other words. I was a lot smaller than I am, now, and managed to bust one to pieces a couple years ago.
Embarrassed? Oh.hayell.YES.
Along with embarrassment comes the real possibility of getting hurt. The impact of a falling 350+ body on an arm put out to brace the fall, for example, can cause some damage. I fear that. I fear falling of any kind. I’m looking forward to the day when I’m low enough in weight that a simple fall, which happens to all of us, no longer scares me.
I also fear events for similar reasons, and I have several such events coming up. Because of my extreme weight, walking is painful; I have severe arthritis, which means every step is bone grinding on bone. This isn’t as bad when I weigh less, but right now, it’s agony; and yet, I’m torn, because I don’t want to be the one that holds back my husband or friends from activities. I dread and fear them, not only because of the pain of walking, but because I get out of breath easily, sweat, and need frequent sitting breaks; things my husband, family, friends do not need — and I don’t think they understand, either.
An aside: I don’t take myself out of events because I’m fat and lazy. I take myself out of them because they are extremely painful for me. While there’s a difference, I don’t consider either one a valid excuse, but that doesn’t stop me from becoming anxious and embarrassed about doing things other people find easy, like walking or just standing and talking.
The good news for me, and what I keep reminding myself of in these early weeks, is that I’m doing something to change that. My first major event is in less than a month, and while I’m both fearful and excited to go, I also know that because I’m making an effort now, it will be easier for me during that event and the ones to follow. While 15 pounds isn’t even 5% of my body weight, it’s still weight gone, and it still makes a difference.
Every single pound makes a difference. Every single fraction of a pound is that much less weight that’s pushing down on my knees, that much less fat that’s crowding my internal organs, that much less of a burden for me to carry when I’m living my daily life. Every .2 pounds less I weigh changes the chances of me breaking a chair. 😉
I often get frustrated when I think about how much weight I have to lose; how many jeans/dresses/tops I have, waiting for me to drop any number of pounds; how it’s changed my life to something I totally abhor; how great a feeling it was to have weighed so much less, and what I could do, back then. Instead, I need to remember that the changes I’m making, today, have an impact today, as well as in the future.
Putting in the effort today makes today better — and tomorrow even greater.