Eight Months

I have 8 months. 8 months to lose .. oh .. almost 70 pounds. Because you see, in 8 months I turn 50 years old and I am not willing to enter into the 2nd half of my life like this.

My story is the same as many people's. I can throw my hands up and say - I don't know what happened - it just spiraled out of control and next thing I knew - I looked like THIS! I can disavow responsibility with the best of them. But no matter.

It's time to do something about it - the question is - what? I don't want to do anything drastic - hello - weight loss surgery? No money for that. Besides, I would probably end up malnourished because I would be eating an ounce of chocolate when I should be eating an ounce of protein. I know me. Hmmm, my stomach only holds this much (see fingers maybe an inch apart) so if I eat the piece of chicken I won't be able to eat that chunk of dark chocolate Toblerone. Toblerone wins! I mean really, have you ever had Toblerone?

Anyway. Yes, I must find a way because at this point the weight has really started (who am I kidding - HAS been) affecting all parts of my life. How I see myself, how others see me, how I walk, how I carry myself, how I bend down to pick things up, how I sit, how I have sex, IF I have sex, breathing, all the way to the way I feel about myself deep down inside. The important place where my deepest feelings are so buried that even I don't shine much light on them - and certainly not recently. Can't face it.

And maybe when I feel like I am actually on my way, on a roll so to speak - I will click the radio button that gives permission for other people to view this blog. But right now - I can't.

This is my journey.

My journey from fat - to fifty.