Like, for instance… you buy a new car, a green new car. Then, you drive out of the car lot and notice, for possibly the first time in your life, that there are thousands of green cars on the road.
Or, you hurt your ankle and have difficulty walking without your brace or, perhaps, crutches. Then, as you go about your daily tasks out in the world it seems that, no matter where you are or where you look, everyone is using walkers or crutches or canes.
Or, you decide, at the beginning of a new year that this is the year to lose weight. Then, whenever you turn around there is a news story about some “famous” woman in your very city who is writing in the newspaper about her struggle to lose weight; or every other commercial is a weight-loss related ad; or you get bombarded with mailers about becoming the “new you.”
Yeah… that last paragraph? That is about me.
See, I have dedicated this year to getting back to the real me. She has been lost for about… hmmmmm… well… she started disappearing into folds of protective fat in 1991. So, you do the math.
Today, I am carrying enough fat around that, literally, there are two of me, without exaggeration. That is a lot of fat, my Friends. And, I am no longer sugar coating it with statements like “protection” or “fluffiness” or “voluptuousness.” Nope. It’s FAT that I am carrying around with me. Plain ole fat. And, even worse, it is making me sick. (This picture is from August. Due to the fact that I am fat and feel ugly, it is rare that pictures are taken of me. This will have to suffice as my before shot. It is as good – or as bad, depending on how I choose to look at that – as it will get.)
Several friends and family members have committed to doing the “Race for the Cure” (http://www.komenslc.org/) here in Salt Lake City – a 5k Run/Walk to raise money for breast cancer research – on May 12th. I am amongst those committed to participating and, because of this commitment, I am extra committed to myself and to getting rid of this weight once and for all. I want to get rid of it, instead of losing it. Losing it implies that I may one day find it again. And that? I don’t wanna do that!
My sister – the one who had the baby three days ago – suggested that I be accountable to someone as I begin this process. Hence the reason for this blog. I am outing myself to all of you – to everyone that reads this. I have sixteen weeks to ready myself for the Race and I figure I could get down at least 24 pounds in that time – 1 ½ pounds each week – which is a reasonable and safe amount. I am also going for the goal of dropping an inch around each of separate the target areas – breasts, waist, tummy, hips; ¼ inch around each arm; ½ inch around each thigh.
Dropping that weight will drop almost a quarter of my end goal. And now you know, if you can do the math, just how heavy I truly am. Even though I am outing myself, I am ashamed to admit my little frame is that heavy. I am ashamed enough that I cannot even write the number and can barely speak it. It is a horrible reminder of the idiotic decisions I have made in my life.
However, I feel hopeful now. I have found myself hiding inside, quietly waiting to be found. And I am ready to emerge, at last. It has been a l-o-n-g trek and it has not been without its sorrow.
What I ask from you, wherever you are in this world, is your support and encouragement either through words or through thoughts. For any of you that have attempted this, you know what a daunting task it can be at times. And I am terrified. Really, really terrified.
There is great solidity in owning your own crap and then outing yourself to the world. In that, though, there is also huge perceived pressure to do it right. And that last part is the reason why I usually do this quietly.
And have failed every single time I have tried.
Soooooooo… if ya want different results, do it differently. Right?
Right.
So, here I go, world. I am Becoming!
