First things, first: my updated loss now stands at 74.2 pounds — and that means I’ve met another goal. 74.2 pounds of loss is equal to 20% of my starting body weight, and while I have a long way to go, yet, the benefits of weight loss are paying off.
74 pounds of cocker spaniel. I can relate, dog.
From the song Ripple (Grateful Dead):
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
One of the things that often keeps me from starting on a diet is the overwhelming feeling of doom when I realize how much weight I have to lose, total. It’s daunting to realize that the “healthy” weight range for someone of my height and age is between 109 and 136 pounds. I remember weighing around 125 to 130, and feeling like I looked pretty good at that weight. Realistically, though, I’m not shooting for that range. I was 19 years old when I weighed 125; I’ll never be 19, again.
Not to mention, even at the top of the range, that would mean a total weight loss of 235 pounds, the rough equivalent of losing a linebacker. Possible? Absolutely, but had I decided my final number the moment I found out my starting weight, when I was in a bad mental place, I would have considered it too high a mountain to climb. I might still be sitting at the bottom of the mountain, and watching it grow even bigger.
This is why having manageable goals is important. It’s been a successful strategy so far; I know I can achieve these small goals, and they add up as I progress, much like the ever-increasing size of ripples when you throw a pebble in the water. I have a lot of goals; I had a cluster of several within the past few weeks, which hasn’t detracted from meeting each of them. My final goal of this cluster was to pass that 20% mark. I’ll probably use 25% as my next goal to achieve.
The nice thing about looking at percentages of weight loss as goals is that there are quick gains to losing a relatively small amount; there are health benefits to reap at 5% – 10%, which is great news. Just about everyone out there can achieve a 5% reduction in total body weight; if you weigh 200 pounds, that’s a 10 pound loss. Some benefits are hidden, such as changes in cholesterol numbers, blood pressure, insulin resistance.
Others are more immediately noticeable; the less weight I carry, the more my knees actually like me, again. I’m able to stand and walk for longer periods of time. Just moving is easier. Breathing is easier. My quality of sleep has improved. It’s done wonders for my self-image.
The amount of pain I have from arthritis has decreased; and why wouldn’t it? There’s a huge difference between when I started, and now — roughly the equivalent of carrying a full grown labrador retriever everywhere. Before I started this journey, I did that with every step I took. Carrying great amounts of physical weight is a huge strain on the body.
I became a certified diver at a time in my life when I’d lost a great deal of weight and was pretty fit. When I did my open dive, I had to wear my scuba gear and walk down a hill to the water’s edge; the estimated weight it added to my body was between 60 and 80 pounds (depending on tank size, etc.), and to suddenly feel that increased weight being carried awkwardly on my back was quite the reality check. And that was only part of the weight I’d lost.
Quite honestly, while I’m thrilled with my recent progress after a bit of a dry period, I’m more impressed with my changing body. Over just the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that I don’t need to use my cane nearly as often as I did, previously, and my bad knee days seem to be stretched farther apart. Because one of my knees can lock without warning, I carry my cane with me at all times, but more often than not, I leave it folded up and in my purse.
This could be a direct result of carrying less actual weight, but it’s also likely that my ability to balance my body is improving, because my weight distribution is changing. I don’t feel like I might lose my footing as I walk — or not as often as I used to. I also know, from previous experience, that carrying a great amount of excess weight changes how I walk, because I have to compensate for my weight as I move. (This is likely the reason you see heavy people who seem to lumber when they walk.)
Regardless of the reasons, these improvements and benefits would still be in unvisited territory, had I not taken the first step and set my first goal. As I continue, the rewards of weight loss accumulate, and I’d be a fool to turn back, now!