I'm not really sure where to start.
I guess I'll dive right into the middle. It might require going back to tell history. Or skipping forward to set goals, but this is the point . . .
This blog is about me. Little old me. There have been and always will be some blogger-taboo topics. One of them is my diet-slash-exercise-slash-fitness-slash-weight-loss goals, attitude, plan. I said earlier this year that I was planning to break that taboo. And, well, today is the day.
First, though, let me be clear. I think that when other people read about one's above stated topics, their reactions are all over the map. Any reader should now know and repeat frequently that:
(1) I'm not an expert and I don't claim to be;
(2) I'm not in it to put down (gee, we women are hard enough on ourselves with no outside help from others);
(3) I'm not Jillian Michaels. I'm not any of my inspiration folks. I'm just me. I struggle with my own very unique sets of ups, downs and inside-outs. I'm just me.
(4) Blogging my successes (Lord, I pray), should not make a reader feel WORSE. I say that because I've been so pissy about reading fitness brags from other folks. Nothing hacks me and bangs my jealous bone like reading a facebook post from one of my super-cute, uber-skinny, bikini-wearing hot mom friends that says, "My Daily Mile: I just ran 14.2 miles and it felt great." I just picture myself limping along, cursing like a sailor, repeating I-think-I-can, I-think-I-can, while my body shuts down completely and tears stream down my face in defeat and disgust . . . just before the ONE mile mark. Okay, so I've gotten over some of that, enough to be brave enough to celebrate my own victories. Please don't throw tomatoes at my blog. I'm proud of you for being you, no matter what size and no matter how you've fallen . . or how many times. You'll get back up. You must. We all do. Because we all must.
And now, the goal . . . .
My goal with this, as with so many other things in my life, is child-focused. Yea, yea, the folks with no-kids scold me for losing myself to motherhood. It's who I am. Nothing will teach you to eat well and place value on your own health like having a daughter who is mimicking your every move. And the first time your little tiny little perfect piece of thirty-six pound three year old turns and looks over her shoulder into a full-length mirror, gazes introspectively and says, "mommy, do you think I'm fat?", I promise you . . . you won't feel the same way. I promise you. So, yes, one of my primary motivators for getting healthy, losing weight, whatever you want to call it, is my kids, it's also me. My daughters mimic every move I make. If it's chicken salads with dressing on the side, I better order four. If it's cheeseburgers with a side of fries, order four of those too. This is a no brainer. Which would you pick?
Okay. History established. Here's the deal. Gasp. I'm about to reveal my numbers.
My go-hot date was May 24, 2011. Why? I don't know. It was the day I picked on the calendar. I had done the research, I was mentally ready. So, for me, that was my "go-live" date. I woke up, weighed myself and said goodbye to that number. On May 24, 2011, I weighed 168. I'm 5'4" tall. That's a BMI of 28.8. Solidly in the "overweight" category.
I digress. Overweight is not a word I like. Not at all. I fiddled with the online BMI calculator enough to figure out that I was, at that time, closer to "obese" than "normal". Eeek. And I have never thought of myself as obese. The word obese goes with folks on the biggest loser or on My 600-Pound Life. I'm an active, kick-ball playing mom that's on the go all the time. Obese is SO, very not me. Still, the label stuck and my first goal was to get myself out of that category.
I'm closing this post with a high note. As of my dad's death, which was January 20, 2012, I was at 147. A total weight loss of 21 pounds. 147, incidentally, was my target weight. It is still in the "overweight" category, according to BMI, but like all heavy women, "I'm big boned and have a lot of muscle." For me, that's actually quite true. I'm build like a middle linebacker and have some pretty dense muscle. Always have, always will. Which just goes to show you that it's not about the label. It's not about the number. It's about buying the Buckle jeans that make you feel great. And, for me, (for JUST me), losing weight is about SO much more than being skinny. It's about SO, SO, SO much more than being thin.
More posts coming on diet and exercise, for as of today, I have surely broken the silence . . .