Fear was a prominent emotion yesterday. As I stepped on the Wii Fit board (I find it to be more consistent and more entertaining than my bathroom scale), I knew for sure that I’d weigh more than I did the last time I weighed myself a number of months ago, but I wasn’t sure exactly how much more I’d weigh.
I giggled as the Wii Mii looked down at it’s body and watched itself go from scary skinny (as it always begins, no matter what your weight or previous weight) to obese, as though it was saying, “Oh my God! Where did that come from?” Then I whimpered, realizing that I was actually scared to find out how much I weigh. I bravely raised the Wiimote and pressed the A button. Then I let out a gasp.
I had tried to tell myself not to be surprised or upset by the number. After all, I am already very aware of the extra weight. It’s difficult not to be aware when there’s resistance every time I bend over to tie my shoe. Unfortunately I didn’t listen to myself. After my initial reaction to the number on the screen, I tried to act cool. “Well, I’ve lost weight before, I’ll do it again,” I said ever-so-positively. But inside I was filled with dread. I managed to pack on forty-two pounds in the past year. Did I burn even a single calorie of anything I ate since last December?
I am not going on a diet. I’m changing my lifestyle. Incredibly cliché and hokey, I know. I’m sticking with my five pound loss per month goal. It’s going to be a major exercise of patience on my part. If I lose five pounds each month, I won’t reach my happy weight until June 2011. That’s okay (I keep telling myself), because any loss is better than no loss, and definitely better than continuing to gain. It will take a long, long time, but in the end it will be so very worth it (I must keep telling myself).
I will take as many people with me on this journey as want to join me. I have plenty of room! So far, I’m traveling all by myself. Cruising down the cyber highway, talking out loud to myself. I realized yesterday that the blog thing scares me, too. What if I spend the time writing my blog entries and no one ever, ever reads them? I’m always complaining about how days are about twenty-four hours too short. Why would I gamble with my time like that? My time could be better spent on things more definite. I am the least gamblesome (I think I just invented a word!) person I’ve ever met. I hate to gamble with anything. I hate to take chances. But I need to remind myself that sometimes the gamble is better than the definite. The gamble: I could lose time because no one ever, ever reads my blog, or I could take some people on this journey with me and it’ll be fun. The definite: If I don’t write, no one will read.
So, I’ve decided to wad my fear up into a ball and swallow it. Gulp. It doesn’t taste too good, but luckily it doesn’t have any fat or calories.