I never thought much about my weight. I never had to. At 5 feet tall, I was always called petite, little, cute, tiny. And, I always thought of myself as that. Even when I no longer was.
I certainly never thought of myself as fat. I just knew after three kids I wasn’t the cute, petite girl I once was. But I wasn’t prepared for what realizations I came to during the past year.
This is my story of challenging myself, getting back in shape and losing weight.
And, the lessons learned along the way.
Reality Check – Nov 8, 2014
158. One hundred fifty eight. One. Five. Eight. Oy vey. One hundred fifty eight pounds. I weigh one hundred fifty eight pounds. I cannot even comprehend the number on the scale. I haven’t been on a scale in more than a year, but that sounds like a lot. Can the scale be wrong? I weigh more not pregnant than I did during any of myfastpregnancy.com. WTF?
When I emerge from the locker room and my trainer asks how much I weigh, I lie “154.” It’s not much better but my lips can’t make the sound an eight makes. I am in shock. I hear little else. Body fat. Body Mass Index. More meaningless numbers that are higher than they should be.
I knew I had let myself go, so to speak, over the past few years, but I thought I weighed around 135. Not more than that. I am so upset by the number. A number I was taught not to focus on. A number my mother told me was not important. “Look in the mirror and be happy with who you see. A number is just that – a number,” my mother told me.
But was I happy with what I saw? Was I in denial? Was I upset by the number or what the number represented? I am seven months away from 40th birthday. I just started a staff challenge that includes free personal training with a partner for the next eight weeks. And my partner just dropped out. This is my wake up call. I am going to seize this opportunity, get in shape and kick 40s ass.
First stop…the gym.