For those keeping up with it, I’m at a new low weight! I have now lost a total of 206.6 pounds, and no one in the world is more surprised about that than me.

My super ambitious goal at the outset was to lose 200 pounds. It was a grand goal, but I seriously didn’t think I’d actually lose 200 pounds. I had zero faith in myself to do that, but I knew from previous experience that I could totally lose 50, so I set mini goals. Looking at a goal of losing 200 pounds was just too daunting and I knew it would wheedle its way into my brain and work against me.

I had smaller goals within each of those 50 pound segments, not all weight related. I know my body changes slowly, so I tried my best not to set time limits and frustrate myself.

There’s also the theory that overwhelming someone with goals that are too far out there tends to discourage compliance. For instance, grounding a 7 year old child for a month, whether that discipline is deserved or not, may work against both you and the child; if they can’t see a reasonable way to work off what they did in a time frame they understand, they have little incentive to improve and may just act out more. My mind works much the same way; I knew from the beginning that it would take me a long time to lose, and if I set goals that were too far in the future, I would likely give up. I’d done it before, time and time again.

When I reached that 200 pound loss mark, I decided I’d try for 210. Our health insurance has made the occasional rumble about adding a surcharge for those with a BMI over 30, so I decided I’d get to that point, next; with 210 pounds lost, I’ll just be overweight. My goal is health-related; there are a couple of medications I’d like to either eliminate or adjust to lower dosages, so that’s what I’m after, now. For the first time in darned near 40 years, I’m fine with where my weight is; my goal changed to health some time ago.

So now that I’m within reach of that 210 pound goal and on the verge of another reassessment, it strikes me that a lot has changed in my world — and not just my body.

For one thing, as I said above, it’s been a heck of a long time since I’ve been okay with my weight; maybe even longer than I suggested, since I dealt with pressure from my father to conform to an impossible physical standard when I was just the barest bit overweight. We carry those scars with us for a long time, and they’re not easy to fight with logic when they’re firmly entrenched in our brains.

For another, my brain has almost caught up with my body, for once. I occasionally find myself fighting those imprints, but not nearly as often as I once did. I don’t look up weight limits on things designed to hold my body anymore. I don’t constantly assess whether I can pass between two chairs in a crowded room. I’m not concerned with whether I can bend over enough to tie my shoes. I’m not hyper aware of people glancing at me; before, I used to automatically think someone was looking at me because of my weight. Now, I don’t care why they’re looking at me; that’s their problem, not mine. I don’t spend a ton of time having to consider things like how long it’ll take me to walk to my own mailbox; not when I can easily get out first thing in the morning and walk four miles.

And while we all have the occasional day when we feel small or particularly large, those days when I feel ponderous are rare. When I lay in bed at night and assess my own body, I’m constantly pleased and surprised at the small amount of room I occupy, these days. While I’m still obese (for a little while longer), I feel small just about every day, now.

Those types of eternal calculations used to take up far too much of my brain. I’m free from those, now. I have the ability to commit those brain cells to things I enjoy, or to meet the demands of each day, instead of allowing those overwhelming calculations to hold me back. Instead, as I near maintenance — you know, just the rest of my life — the small changes and adjustments are what keep me moving forward.

Maybe I’m finally getting it right.