Its a similar story to so many. I've never been what you call "thin", well except maybe as a little kid. As a teenager when I started getting my curves they became quite, well curvy. In early adulthood I was able to semi-control it, although the pounds crept on. Of course I really wasn't watching what I ate or calories I drank. Eventually I started working out, but it wasn't consistent and it wasn't really to any means that provided any results. Strange when you work out and then go eat a Big Mac that the pounds don't fall off.
So I got married wearing a size 16 or 18 jean. I was okay with that, my husband is loving and kind and a great cook. You can see where this is going. For a while I maintained that size didn't really gain or lose. But I wasn't working out, or doing anything to help myself, although my lifestyle was fairly active. Finally though the pounds started creeping on. Then before I had even reazlied it, I was in a size 24. And depressed about how I looked and felt. So I decided I'd do something about it.
I was at Sams' Club and found Richard Simmons "Food Mover" and work out tapes. So I thought, well why not, I'll give it a try. I was extremely dedicated. I watched every morsel that went into my mouth, I worked out every day, and in the end was working out 3 times a day. And I lost weight, a lot of weight. Within 6 months I had lost 75 pounds. Soon I was down 90. I felt great, I looked great. I kept it off more then a year.
Then life started throwing me wrenches. Big ugly ones. My grandmother died, my husband decided to change jobs, then he was slightly injured in a bicycle accident, and several other things that through me into an emotional tailspin. So I once again let the weight start creeping on. It was slow at first, I went from a size 10, to a 12. Didn't care much. Then it was a 14. Then my friend got married and I was determined to lose the weight I had gained so I'd look good for her wedding. Instead, the more I tried to lose weight the more I gained. Then before I knew it I had gone from a 16 to a 20 in a blink. Then a 22.
Last year I had actually lost about 10-15 pounds and was feeling really positive (bringing me back to a size 20), then life once again took a bite off me. In fact, this time it was nearly devestating. In the period of one week my husband broke his leg, our car was destroyed by a tree falling on it, and my husband was diagnosed with Stage 3 Melanoma. Surprisingly throughout this, I didn't gain the weight I had lost back. I managed to keep it off for the most part. But there was no even attempting to lose more. So I coped. I never realized until the last few weeks what an emotional toll this last year has been on me. And slowly those few pounds I lost came back.
So this is where I'm at. Back to a size 22 and completely unhappy with how I feel, how I look and the size I am. I need to find my way back to that size 10. But this time, it must be more slowly, more responsibly, and more of a lifestyle because the fact is I don't want to have to start a blog, being Take 3.
Next post, I'll discuss the emotional aspect of weight loss.
