Waiting for the Alarm to Sound

Six years ago I weighed 165 pounds. I know what you are thinking - holy crap! Is she really talking about her weight? Gah! So, as I’m writing this, I’m mentally going through the people who have access to this blog… talking about your weight is so taboo… but you know what? Who cares if people know what I weigh or weighed. Are you really going to think any differently of me? And if you do, do I really want you as my friend? (That’s what my Mom always said, anyway)

Anyway, at the time, I actually didn’t even know what I weighed. I think I had been around that weight since the infamous freshman 15 (or is that the freshman 50). I can’t remember why, but I decided to join Weight Watchers. Over the course of 6 months to a year I lost close to 30 pounds. I also started running at that point and ran my first half-marathon. I continued to run and maintained my weight. Eventually I left Weight Watchers, figuring I could maintain my weight on my own (famous last words, as they say). Well, life got in the way… I stopped running… stopped paying attention to what I ate and eventually the pounds started to creep up. I remember weighing myself regularly and even though the number was going up, I wasn’t concerned.



About 2 and a half years ago, I weighed myself and I had reached 168! Wah? I had gained more weight than I had lost?? I was panic-stricken. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. Forget the fact that I had been at 164 for the previous 6 months… I was now 3 whole pounds heavier than when I had started. Why that seemed more dramatic, I don’t know… but I got back to work… started exercising and eventually running and training again, even watched what I ate and finally got back down to 145. Not as low as it had been the last time around, but still respectable. I kept up my running, did a couple of half-marathons and a marathon.

So now it’s been 7 months since my marathon. I’ve been living at my Mom’s place and it always amazes me just how much your environment can influence your lifestyle. Yep. In the last 7 months I’ve gained almost 30 pounds. Wow. Sadly though, no alarm bell has gone off in my head this time. It’s like I’m living outside of myself. I see the number, see that my clothes don’t fit, but I haven’t gotten depressed about it, haven’t panicked, haven’t even had the least bit of interest in saying – it’s go time D. You need to take control of your life again. Nope. Not feeling it at all. Not even the fact that I weigh more than ever is motivating me. I don’t feel any self-pity or sadness because “I don’t know what to do anymore” like so many people complain about. I certainly KNOW what to do. A) Run B) Lay off the two-bite brownies, blizzards and chicken wings C) Ummm, that’s it. You have to cut back 500 calories a day to loose a pound a week. There are 200 calories in 2 two-bite brownies… I eat the entire bag in one sitting – you do the math. It all seems pretty simple, yet my brain isn’t able to compute. It’s like my brain is a little kid going nah-nah, I’m not going to do what I’m supposed too.

So, if you know how I can stop my brain from rebelling against my body – please let me know. Until then I shall remain pleasantly plump.