October_Arrives

Oct. 16, 2001
Do I look bitchy in my new picture??? hehe Actually, I needed to have a new picture
taken for the newspaper for my column head and the one on our editorial page which
let's people know I'm the editor. I just plain got tired of that other one at 251.8 lbs.
And, from habit (which fat person ever likes their picture taken?) I wasn't enthused
that a camera was shoved in my face. But, that's me at 215 lbs! Yup!! I've now lost
39.6 lbs since July 9. Totally amazing! So, better this picture that the one of the fat
woman who looks 20 years older.
I was stuck in a rut for a while. No matter what I did the scales didn't move. Each
morning I would awake and jump on the scales. And each morning the needle was
stuck in the same place. It was frustrating! I mean - c'mon!!! What in heck do you want from me? Blood? I was staying on plan, exercising, watching my carbs. What????
So, I decided to go over my journal once again for any clues. What I found was a shocker, and hard to admit. I was starving myself! My body went into defensive mode and hung onto the fat.
"No friggin' way, lady! You aren't starving me! I need food! If you don't feed me I will hang onto the fat!" Of course, I wasn't starving myself intentionally. The fat person inside of me, whom I suspect will always be in residence, wouldn't allow that. But, I was always calculating high - so afraid I would go over my points. If some food ended in a .5 value I would round it to the next highest number. If I wasn't exactly certain of a point value, I would over-estimate. Just to be sure. And, I was exercising and thus my body needed more fuel. I didn't use exercise points and I didn't use banked points. DUH!
With great trepidation I decided I was going to eat to the top of my range. It was frightening at first, although I do admit that eating six Girl Guide chocolate mint cookies (at 5 cookies for 4 points) wasn't all that horrid of a task.
But I didn't gobble them. With great purpose I counted them out. One, two, three, four, five, and for good measure - six! I gently cupped them in my hands, trying not to salivate all over my nightie, and crept into bed. Carefully, I sat them upon my nightstand and gazed at them a long time.
"I'm going to eat you," I told the chocolately morsels. "But, I'm going to eat you with style," I promised. One by one I nibbled the cookies. Slow, tiny bites - letting the cookie melt in my mouth and trickle down my throat. The TV blared in the background, but I was focused on my feast.
An hour later I finished the cookies. Satisfaction was quickly replaced by guilt and fear. I imagined those cookies popping out as fat deposits at inconvenient spots on my body. I began to feel sick to my stomach. I couldn't lay still, and finally gave in and ran to the scales. Still stuck.
The next morning I awoke and made my way for the scales. I couldn't believe it! One pound gone over night. That day saw the scales move two whole pounds.
That evening I ate all my points with gusty. "I kinda like this!" I said to myself after a supper of steak, potatoes and salad.
Over the next five days I dropped five pounds. OK! OK! Lesson learned!
So, last night at weigh in I was rewarded for finally getting it through my thick skull. Goodbye 5.4 lbs!
Did I mention that I have realized something which is a truth for me? It is this:
One must believe in order to live the life. Think about it. It's wonderful in its truth and simplicity.

I can't believe it's Oct. 1! Next week I celebrate three months on the program. And yes, I do look at it as a celebration - a celebration of life and me!
How awesome is it that at the age of 48 I can become healthier than most of my adult life? But, I feel some anger and guilt. Had I have known how easy this program is, it's likely I would have started it a long time ago. But, I must keep focused on the future.
I have to admit, there was one day I almost went off plan - said, "The heck with it all! I've earned it. I deserve it."
It scares me now just thinking about it.
The day had started innocently enough. I felt strong, committed. But deep down I couldn't forget those 18 inch spicey pepperoni sticks my husband brought home the day prior.
Of course, I should have clued in the minute he brought them in the door and I began salivating like a rabid dog. I thought I was OK with it though. I mean, after all it only took me about four hours to forget they were lurking in the fridge.
Then the day after he brought them home I was sitting at the computer when this thought came out of nowhere. This voice, actually............
"Baby - I have 18 inches for you." The words slammed into my brain out of the blue.
"Come on Baby, you know you want it," it suggestively cooed.
"Naw, I've had thousands like you before, and I know you're not worth it," I argued.
The voice quietened for a while, but renewed its frantic attack.
Then, on my computer screen appeared a 24 inch pepperoni. The dang thing was growing!
Not only that, but it glistened and writhed. Only I could put it out of its pain.
I snapped.
With little thought I went to the fridge and grabbed my beloved. It jumped readily into my hand. I carressed the length of it, enjoying every inch, every nuance. Then, as I walked away from the fridge with the pepperoni clutched tightly in my hand, I spied my food scales.
I stopped.
"Oh come on! Not now!" I shouted at the scales. But they sat there in lengthy, silent reproach.
"OK, OK! I will at least see what kind of damage I am doing and then journal it," I muttered, fully determined to treat myself and go off plan no matter what the consequences.
Did I say damage? They're bloody lethal! I gulped when I looked up the point value and weighed the renegade pepperoni
Wow! Twenty points for the pepperoni stick! That's points enough for my breakfast and lunch! At 24-29 points daily, I could see that the stick would gobble up my remaining points for the day, and then more. And, I knew that once I ate that pepperoni stick, I would have another - and this time with cheese. If so, that means I would have consumed almost 50 points in one sitting!
I looked longingly at the pepperoni in my hand, then back at the points book.
With great deliberation I removed a sharp knife from its resting place and began to cut at the pepperoni.
"Sorry Baby, maybe some other poor sucker will listen to your lies," I said as I cut myself a paper-thin slice. Slowly I inserted the slice into my mouth.
Come on, Baby! Let's party!
It did. The spicey, piquant taste exploded and quickly made its way to my waiting taste buds. I savoured that succulent minute piece for well over two minutes. Ahhhhhh!
How delicious is that?
Then, I took the remainder of the pepperoni, opened the fridge, and slammed it hard. Just for the heck of it, I journalled one point, although I am sure all I ate was 0.01 pt. worth.
With my shoulders squared I went back to my computer and began typing.
Maybe next time, baby. But when I choose, and only when it's right for me!