Or, more exactly, the way I was; two years ago, yesterday, to be exact. That day was the last first day of diets for me. That’s right: although I’ve had some valleys and some mountains, I’ve been at this effort for two years. Hard to believe!

Obie the obese dachsund weighed in at 70 pounds, poor thing. Good news, though! He’s lost a LOT of weight! http://www.obiedog.com/

And to make it even better, I’ve now lost 70 pounds.

Looking back — at the way I was — there are big differences. Most people wouldn’t physically see a difference unless they looked at photos; it’s been a slow loss, and in my experience, it takes a fairly fast loss, or a long time since seeing someone, for anyone to truly notice. The lesson, to me, is that I can tell the difference, and that’s where it counts.

Two years ago, I weighed 371 pounds. I know that will likely come as a shock to those who have just recently come to read this blog, but that’s the starting number. That’s a great weight… if you’re ten feet tall, but on my 5’2” frame? Not so much. Years of being morbidly obese have taken their toll on my frame, most noticeably my knees; both knees have level 4 arthritis on all surfaces, but my right knee is now locking and going out of alignment. Chronic pain was, and still is, very much part of my life. I walk with a cane. I wear a leg brace (when it fits). For long walking, my husband pushes me in a travel chair.

These are difficult realities of my existence, and not easy in the least to put out there in such a public way, but that was my commitment two years ago: to be accountable. Although I’ve struggled and nearly given up a couple of times, I haven’t. I’ve watched my weight drift up despite doing what I thought was necessary to bring it down. I’ve done great things; and I’ve guiltily dragged myself in here to admit that I’ve thought about giving in, but at no point have I just totally given up the fight.

And thank God. Today, I stand here 70 pounds less than I did two years ago, and believe me, that’s much better than the alternative. Quitting does nothing. I have taken over 70 pounds off of my knees, and while I still have good days and bad ones, I find the bad ones aren’t as severe as they once were, and the good ones are more common.

People usually ask if I feel better — of course I do! While I’m not doing handsprings just yet, life is getting easier for me. I am in control. I have hope. Two years ago, I felt depression settling in, which is not an uncommon thing, for me — or probably anyone else who is morbidly obese. But even when I feel totally out of control of everything else, the one thing I know I can do is control what I choose to eat and drink. Sometimes, those smallest victories are what keep us sane; I was thankful for this when my oldest brother died earlier this year, and I was the target of unexpected family drama. When days like that hit you, being able to cling to the things that keep our heads above water is tantamount.

It’s not about willpower; it’s about choice. Every single day, I wake up with the choice to stack up one more day, one more tick in the Good column, and as the number of days that stack up in the Good column accumulate into weeks, months, and years, it becomes even more difficult to forsake that.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there aren’t some days where I wake up and want to drive to the nearest IHOP and order sixteen Belgian waffles with sprinkles and whatever else they dump on there, and then take a face-dive in them, but I don’t. And each day, whether it shows on the scale or not, a little bit of that stored energy (that’s “fat”, people!) leaves my body and goes wherever fat goes when it gets exorcised. Personally, I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t come back to me. And as long as I keep up the good fight, it won’t.

Two years down the road, who knows where I’ll be, then? Hopefully, I’ll be reporting in about how great the journey still is, and how far I’ve come.

On my first blog (find it here), I ended with this, which has never been truer than it is, today, two years later:
It’s not who I am, today; it’s who I am tomorrow that will make the difference.