Well, I have to do something. I’m overweight.
The scale read 189 the other day. I’m a tall woman – six feet tall without shoes – but still. 189 is too high.
I always have to laugh when I hear people talk about ideal weights. Women of average height will talk about numbers in the 120s. For me? An ideal weight is between 150-160. I feel good at 160, and at 150, can wear a size 8. Right now, my Walmart jeans are a size 16, and sometimes those are tight.
I’ve done this before. But it’s been years and years (since approximately 2001) since I’ve been able to make any long-term changes in my lifestyle. The pounds have gradually crept back on, despite the fact that I’ve – more or less – maintained a fairly regular (though not intense) workout schedule. I know getting older has something to do with it, of course. I definitely don’t have the metabolism of a 20-year-old any more!
But my biggest problem is simply self-control.
Last night, as I drove to buy myself a chocolate milkshake, I was thinking about my weird mindset at that moment. I was trying to figure out what my problem was. I mean, I knew, even as I drove to the ice cream place, that today I would be committing to make a change. More than half my mind was fully aware that the chocolate shake would not make me feel good when I was done drinking it. Also, I knew that I would be sitting here today, thinking of how I now just have to burn off those milkshake calories in addition to all the rest of my excess pounds.
And yet I did not care. I had put on my shoes, grabbed a coat, gotten in the car, and was now driving to get a chocolate milkshake. That’s a whole lot of effort to make for something I already knew I’d regret.
I think I can understand a bit of what goes through a heroin junkie’s mind.
At that moment, in the car on my way to buy a milkshake I already knew I would wish I hadn’t consumed, I could sympathize with the drug addict driving to the projects to buy a bag of dope.
Yet food itself is not addictive like opiates. I’m fully aware that I’m not “chemically dependent” on milkshakes. I don’t need to check myself into rehab in order to have any hope of beating my appetites.
I just need to keep the exact same perspective I have right now. If I could keep my “morning mindset” all day long, even in the moments when I just want something tasty to entertain me, I’d be fine. If I could just maintain my perspective of how much better I’d feel if I took off 30 pounds, and how badly I really do want this, I’d never even consider getting my shoes on to go drive to buy a milkshake.
I guess that’s the purpose of this blog. I’m going public with my struggles so that I can keep myself honest. If the entire world can read what I hope to accomplish – even if nobody ever finds the site, theoretically the whole world COULD see my words here - then I can no longer slip into that other mindset, the mindset of crazed denial mixed with a weird calm resign to what I’m about to do.
So here I am, going on the record with this: today’s the day. The buck stops here. I’m putting an end to sabotaging myself and what I know, deep down, that I really want and what would truly make me feel better in the long run. No more crazed addict. None. When I get that feeling of just not caring, of just wanting to throw it all away for the pleasure of having endless pizza and endless Diet Coke, I commit to reading this post. And remembering.
Because, you see, Crazed Addict is not really who I am. It’s not my best self. And it won’t have any more power over me.
