Objects in the Mirror May Appear Smaller Than Actual Size

I've been noticing it lately.

The looks, the questions silently asked by the raise of an eyebrow. Their eyes move over me, scanning for differences they think they see, but are not quite sure. They don't want to say anything just in case they're wrong. In light of the fact that I've recently committed my own auditory faux paux, I would be reticent to voice my own opinion, just in case.

However, the comments are now coming at a faster pace and with more confidence that I can not deny it any longer.

Yes, I am in fact..........losing weight. (Those of you who thought I would type pregnant can release the pent up breath. Whew, you need a mint!)

40 pounds so far, to be exact.

Has it been a long, hard journey? No.

Am I tired of dieting? Nope.

Am I the least bit tempted by that slice of pizza in the break room? I'll say it in Spanish. No.

I am usually a pretty good dieter. Once I start the process, I find it harder to let it go than I find to stay on track.

I've had a weight problem off and on since puberty hit. In high school, I wasn't skinny by any means. I wasn't fat, but I had curves and a great set of legs (but no boobs to speak of). Then I went to college and nights of Taco Bell runs and no one (in the physical sense) to answer to and my own immature sense of self meant the weight started to come on more quickly until I looked in the mirror one day and didn't recognize myself. And where did the boobs come from?

I went different ways, trying different programs which seemed to suit for a couple of weeks until I got bored, or it didn't seem to be working, or I didn't care anymore.

When I was getting ready for a wedding (my own), I decided to try a new diet, called Lean for Life. No pills, no supplements to buy, just a book telling me to up the protein, down the carbs, and up the fruits and veggies. Oh, yeah, you need to exercise too.

I committed to it and dropped 25 pounds in a month. By my wedding, I had lost about 40 pounds. I looked OK, not Jennifer Aniston good, but good enough.

Fast forward to 2005. The show, The Biggest Loser, had a good following in my office. My boss decided to run a contest in which everyone would throw in $50.00 and the biggest loser got to keep the loot. I entered, more for the money than for weight loss. The contest ran from June 2005 to December 2005, right between Thanksgiving and Christmas (just to intimidate the contestants that much more). By September, out of the 12 people entered, only I was still going strong. In December, I stopped counting pounds lost (80) and started counting cash, Sev'n hundid dolla billz y'all.

I felt great. People were noticing and complimenting me. I decided to stick to my routine and see how much farther I could go.

Then I got pregnant. Fast forward through the week 5-week 26 nausea and the morning sickness and the bloating and the noon sickness and the achiness and the night sickness and the MAJOR weight gain that came with upping the carbs to keep the food down. Toast, which had been my sworn enemy, was now my best friend for it did not make me feel ill. I strangely also developed an intense hatred of muffins in any size, form, or agenda, and made it heard everywhere I went that muffins were not to be in the general vicinity of my being. We've kissed and made up since then. Several times.

After Sprite came, I couldn't even look in a mirror anymore without a laugh track going off in my head. I was so obsessed with trying to get the nursing thing down, I barely cared anyway. I can't fit into my old jeans? Um, I have more important things to consider like the health and well-being of my NEWBORN! My legs look like sausage casings? Helloooo, nursing mother! Take your ridicule elsewhere! It has no place here.

I did have a couple of epiphanies during the first year where I looked at the treadmill and thought, you don't look so tough, and, gee, I really should eat the apple instead of the apple fritter, but again, I was so consumed with making sure I had milk to appease my growing Sprite, I let the thought go.

Then we stopped nursing. I had no excuses anymore. Dammit. I needed to do something.

I went back on my Lean for Life diet and my treadmill started to moan about overuse from my feet rather than draping clothes.

Since January (since no fool would ever start a diet during the holidays unless financially motivated), I have been sticking to it and sticking it to my treadmill.

I do feel better. I do look better. People are starting to notice. People are starting to comment. I have a little ways to go before I'm back to pre-Sprite goodness, but I feel confident about it.

I can now look in the mirror and see...me, a smaller me, and the laugh track is down to a mere giggle now.

(Editor's Note: You know, I just read what I wrote, and while I'm not going to change anything in it, I do want to tell you that I am NOT promoting Lean for Life as a weight loss program in any degree. I am only documenting it as the program I am using and have used before. Please do your own research before trying any new diet, and I can't believe I am typing this, but consult a physician before embarking on a strenuous exercise routine. Don't sue me.)

Comments

[Arwen]

Congratulations on the weight loss. You've inspired me to work harder on my own. I love your writing style, btw. It's very funny.

[Isabelle]

You go girl!

[Sprite's Keeper]

Thanks! My mindset seems to be in the right place so it's getting better as I go to keep the control focused.
And thanks, Arwen for the comment on my writing! If I made you smile, that makes ME smile! (I checked out your blog btw. Love the art! I'm not an expert at all, but DAMN! Do you show your work?)

[DailyRx]

I love this post. I must say Ditto to Arwen's comment...very entertaining!

[Susan]

Hey Girl! You are looking great:) You know I am proud and love ya lots!!!!

[Arwen]

Thanks. I haven't shown it anywhere yet, but when I get enough pieces done I hope to find some galleries that will want to show it off for me.