Did you miss me?
I've still been here. I've still been reading your blogs. I've still been thinking to myself, "Tomorrow, I'm going to start." "Monday, I'm going to start."
I need to start living. Over the last year, I've been existing. My body is functioning, my lungs are breathing, my mouth is moving, but have I really been living? I've been getting by. I have maintained my weight within 1-3 pounds, but I haven't done anything to decrease it. This week, I've gone on 30 minute evening walks with my husband. It's the most exercise I've done in two months.
I've been eating what I want. In fact, I have a gross confession to make. You know those new, yummy pretzel M&Ms? Yeah, they're the devil. I'm ashamed to say I've consumed about a third of a large bag today. And why? Because they taste good? Do they really? Sure, they've got the sweet/salty combo I enjoy, but after four handfuls, do they really still taste good?
So, why not start living my life now? What am I waiting for? One last french fry? One last M&M? They're still going to be there. I'm still going to eat them. But there's that "m" word....come on now, you know it. MODERATION. What fun is life if you still can't get a piece of pizza from time to time? A piece of cake (although, not a huge cake fan here)? A few french fries?
I've kept telling myself that when tomorrow or Monday comes, it's salad and fruit. HA HA HA!!! Yeah, that's gonna last.
So, it's time to begin recording what I eat, calculating the calories, and getting my butt moving.
Tara over at 263 and counting is a huge inspiration for me. Is it easy? Heck to the no!!!! But you can do it. It's hard and I'm going to want to quit. A lot. But I have to do it.
Want to know what else? My mom called me earlier this week and said she had a physical with the doctor. He had a heart-to-heart with her about losing weight. Her blood tests came back and she's prediabetic. Her cholesterol is borderline high. If she doesn't change, she's going to be on meds or could die. I don't want to be like my mom. She's been morbidly obese for 30-some years. She's just now scared enough to start doing something about it. Her doctor told her she has to eat 3 meals from a dessert plate and work her way up to walking 30 minutes a day. When she does, she will start taking phentermine to help her boost her weight loss. She called me last night. She's to that point right now.
I don't want to take meds. I don't want to die. I want to live.