If I wasn't fat I'd be perfect...right?

Every time I embark on a weight loss journey, I typically almost get to the 20 pound mark...and then eat and eat and eat some more. I leave the scales...from whatever weight loss program I happen to be on...elated that I am 1 pound away from a bench mark...super motivated more than ever to hit that big number the following week...and then eat myself into a really nice 5 pound gain in one week. I am not sure 100% why...but this pattern has been going on for the majority of my adult life.

I have a major problem whenever I start to lose a significant weight...fear. The root of this fear...or what I actually fear...I cannot pin point…but I have made major progress in identifying that I am scared...uncomfortable...terrified really. One time when I was about 50 pounds lighter I went out to dinner with my husband. There was a table full of business men...they were 50ish and I was 30...they would not STOP staring at me...they were inappropriately eye-screwing me all night.I asked Mike “why are they STARING at me like this?” Of course, being a wonderful (and sometimes wise) hubby he simply stated “because you are so beautiful baby!” I suppose this is every woman’s dream to hear such a thing come out of their hubby's mouths...but it did not comfort or soothe me...I wanted the floor to open up and suck me in...I feel incredible anxiety right now just speaking of this. Why...I do not know…I was so uncomfortable! I remember I had to pee...but I could not bare getting up and walking by the table of perverts. Normally, we do not indulge in dessert when we go out to eat...but I immediately started building my fat shield right back up again...and ordered caramel saturated cheese cake. I did not stop eating for the next 3 months...until I reached my original heavy-weight title again.

Four years ago I lost 50 pounds on the ‘Simply For Life’ plan. This was the all time greatest weight loss I had ever accomplished…and quite easily I might add. I was also running regularly...about 15-20 km a week. To be quite honest...I never felt better in my life...until the attention came! I gave away all of my fat clothes...declared I would never be fat ever again...and quickly ballooned up to 275 pounds! So...what the hell happened? I looked amazing...I felt amazing...and then people (mostly men) started treating me differently and I could not handle it. I love to flirt...safely flirt that is. I flirt with married men or gay men...or strictly unavailable and unattainable men...and I had on my “wonder woman-esque” wedding band for safety...you know those wrist bands Wonder Woman wore to deflect bullets? I can blind their stares with the shine of my diamond...and make them forget what they are thinking! But...as my waste line shrunk…the harmless flirting suddenly became tainted. Men, who respected me, with whom I had worked with or hung out with side by side, man friends who I joked around with for years...suddenly became giddy, awkward and distant...would run away and whisper amongst themselves...or avoid me altogether. I was the same person I always was...nothing changed...I was a happily married woman...just skinnier.

So, subconsciously...or maybe even consciously...I started to rebuild my fat shield. I ate anything and everything in sight to put everything back to ‘normal’ again. I was really successful this time, I stopped running and gained 60 pounds in 6 months...I managed to get to the heaviest weight I have ever been. I am smoking like a trooper and feel like shit. Everything did return to "normal"...the men flirt comfortably with me again...no ‘real’ danger here...I am back in my safety zone...no attention, no stares...just personal misery and a desperate need to lose weight again in order to feel happiness...successful...worthy.

So, in the end, I guess this experience blows the “I’ll be happy when I lose this weight” theory right out of the water. People often blame all their troubles on their weight. When you shed pounds, you may expect everything else in your life to get better--your love life, friendships, career, perhaps even your finances. If those areas don't improve, you no longer have your weight to blame, and you must face the fact that your abilities or behavior, rather than your weight, may be the true cause of your troubles.

I can often be quoted as saying "If I wasn't fat I'd be perfect." I get a good chuckle every time I say it...and I do say it to be funny...and some how I really mean it when I say...but I don't really believe it... When I lose weight…I fear losing myself...who I am...even though I don’t really know who she is. I am scared people will have higher expectations of me...I doubt my abilities...I fear that my full potential will never be reached...I fear failure...I fear success… When I finally lost 50 pounds, I was not happy...I still had my bills and same issues and insecurities. I was uncomfortable and scared...my life was far from perfect.I was still a chubby chicken...just in a smaller version...fat chick in a skinnier body. I let the fear of life...without my fat barrier get the best of me every time.

“I am afraid to show you who I really am, because if I show you who I really am, you might not like it--and that's all I got.”-Sabrina Ward Harrison quotes

Lynn
;)

Bras...THE FRENEMY!!!

Have you ever noticed that everything breaks or malfunctions all at the same time? I have never owned a watch for more than three months. I am not sure if it is my internal electromagnetic field or what…but they all ultimately fail or mysteriously disappear (maybe go to “sock heaven”…now there’s a theory!) Either way, I do not buy expensive watches because I know their fate the day I buy them. All of my make up runs out at the exact same time…or the shadows and blushes all crack and break. I also have had the misfortune of electrical appliance break down all at the same time! In one week my Braun hand mixer, toaster, coffee maker, and blender all died…that was one hell of an expensive week!

A couple of weeks ago…I had disastrous “over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder” breakdown. One day I was walking along…minding my own business…and suddenly felt a stabbing pain in my armpit…an all too familiar pain…which was total blow out of the under wire in my right ‘cup’. I literally have permanent scars in my armpits and chin from these blow outs! I shit you not…a couple times the under wire has popped right up the center…like a cleavage -jack-in-the-box and stabbed me right in the chin! Typically, I just rip out the offensive piece of wire and move along…with crooked boobs for the rest of the day. One time…I ripped out a dysfunctional under wire and whipped it on the head of a male colleague and said “Hey Johnny…now you know your hat size is a 44 double D!” We all had a great laugh out of that one!

This takes me back to another wonderful time in my life when I was single. Now I would LOVE to maintain the illusion for any of my male followers that I only wear G strings, hot red leather and lace, ass floss-esque-undies… and Victoria’s Secret diamond encrusted bras (with the big ass wings, 6 inch heels and fan blowing in my face)…but unfortunately…those things sit in the back bottom section of my underwear drawer for very special occasions only…where functionality is not required…and average wear time is less than 10 minutes…and walking in the heels is not actually required. In real life…real women prefer Wal-Mart granny panties and comfy bras! So, I digress…in those single days…all I did was work and party…sleeping was not priority. One night, after a 12 hour day shift…I threw all of my laundry in the washer and went out to paint the town red. When I arrived home…I was hammered and seeing double…and threw everything in the dryer…so I would have something fresh and clean to wear to work in the morning. Imagine my surprise…when I opened the dryer…and discovered that all of my under wear collection and nursing uniforms were washed with a permanent black ‘Sharpie’ marker!! I was lucky because some of my undies looked intentionally like they were from the “101 Dalmatians’” collection! Flat broke and with no time to spare…I whipped on my “dysfunctional-black -spotted –underwear” and ran off to attend a physical assessment seminar. Imagine my horror…when I learned at the end of the day…we all had to strip down to our undies and don a patient gown…and ‘assess’ each other. Besides being humiliated with the Dalmatian-spotted Wal-Mart specials…I also had some nicely placed holes in my panties…a little ‘muff-puff’-peek-a-boo” if you know what I am saying! I wanted to projectile vomit!

So, imagine my dismay as I suffered bra breakdown over the next 3 days…until I was down to the emergency stock…which are 2 sizes too small…not fit to be seen in…tortuous devices…that should only be worn in a “break glass in case of emergency” situation. You all now what I am talking about…the ones your mother warned you not to wear…in case you got in an accident? Where “Grey Cup” is not just the name of a big football game in the Canadian Football League? The “MacGyver bras”…that are missing hooks, have holes, hair dye on them…and held together with a safety pins, duct tape and chewing gum? How about the Thanksgiving bras…you know where “my cups runneth over?” This is what makes my bras my frenemy… a blend of friend + enemy. According to Dictionary.com, a frenemy is “person who is ostensibly friendly or collegial with someone but who is actually antagonistic or competitive.” My bra is all nice to my twins in the beginning of that day…but as the day goes on…the bra twists, tightens and torments like a boa constrictor…laughs at me…and then blatantly stabs me in the armpit or the chin!

Obviously, I was left with no choice but to get out and buy some new stock….and I decided that I was going for quality rather than quantity. I went to a classy BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) store…or as my mother would call it…”the chubby chicken store”...to be professionally measured for my correct bra size. I simply told the woman that I would not accept a “G-CUP” rating…so lie if she must! After a good little chuckle…I was shocked and pleased to hear that I am actually a 42 D. She introduced me to the most comfortable bra I have ever met. Typically, as soon as I get home…my bra is whipped right off over my head and slung-shot across the room before the door closes behind me! This new bra feels like my second skin…and lifts the twins right back up to their rightful place in life…no more staring down at the ground in shame! I look like I have lost 10 pounds…and I feel like a million bucks! I got a tame nude bra…and a funky chick wild woman bra…with multi-colored bright stripes and matching undies…both functionality and sex kitten qualities! So, bottom line…I am no longer a fan of neither the “101Dalmations” lingerie line…nor the Wal-Mart granny panty special…I am holding my fingers in the Brownie promise position…and I swear to build myself a spectacular and environmentally friendly bra collection!

“The only gossip I'm interested in is things from the Weekly World News - 'Woman's bra bursts, 11 injured'. That kind of thing.”-Johnny Depp

Lynn
;)

Grocery Store Rage

I used to enjoy grocery shopping. It is one of the few times where you are away from the phone, internet, and other daily distractions that prevent you from thinking straight. I used to enjoy taking my time...wandering the aisles...clearing my thoughts....hanging around in my own little world....but then....some IDIOT...invented the 'kiddie-mini-grocery-cart'. I am not talking about the carts that look like race cars with steering wheels....where children are properly restrained directly below their mother's bosom. I am talking about those damned little grocery carts for kids...the world's best baby sitter....for unruly children to run rampant throughout the store...and terrorize everyone else but their oblivious ignoramus parents.

I am a creature of habit. I have my own little routine that I have followed religiously since I became an 'adult' and had to buy groceries for myself. I need to stick to this routine...otherwise I forget things. One day....on my way through the produce aisles...all I can hear...and everybody else can hear...is the non-stop high pitch squealing of some mindless woman blabbering:
JACOB!jacob...JAcob,JAY....COB!!!!jacob...JACOB...JAYCOB....jaCOB...jacob...jacob,jacob, jacob...JACOB....JAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYCOB...JAYCOB...jacbob...JACOB....jacob...you get the picture...this would carry on aisle-after-aisle-after-aisle. It didn't even matter if you were an aisle ahead....or an aisle behind....the entire store was held hostage...involuntary voyeurs to BAD parenting! This little 'angel' was given free-range...like the expensive boneless chicken...to run amok with that damned kiddie cart...running into displays and other shoppers as he pleased...while mommy from hell mindlessly hollered on...not even looking in his general direction...living in her own little world....destroying the world of everyone else!

It is times like these that I am grateful that nobody can see a ticker tape screen on my forehead of exactly what I am thinking. I was totally understanding road rage at this point...grocery store RAGE! I was thinking of pulling a Patrick Swayze roundhouse...you know...that backwards circular kick into the air where I would knock the mother's head right off her shoulders? I imagined the floor opening up like a trap door and swallowing that ill-behaved tot with the kiddie cart right into the bowels of the earth....never to be seen again. I imagined a whole bunch of little vignettes that involved the demise of that moronic mother...or child custody workers taking the kid....to save him from an almost certain life in prison or as a heroin addict...or serial killer...but instead...the terrorizing saga continued...JACOB!jacob...JAcob,JAY....COB!!!!jacob...JACOB...JAYCOB....jaCOB...jacob...jacob,jacob, jacob...JACOB....JAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYCOB...until I LOST it in the coffee aisle.

The same IDIOT who invented the kiddie cart...obviously placed the coffee bean crushing machine at toddler-eye level in aisle number 8. While 'mother of the year' was relaxing at the greeting cards for a little light reading....Jacob the Terrible...proceeded to flick the switch...and create a mountain of fine ground coffee beans all over the floor. I am not kidding...the coffee mound was at least a foot tall. I SNAPPED....and I admit I was inappropriate....but not as inappropriate as I wanted to be. I grabbed on to Jacob's hand and said..."let's go see Mommy JACOB"....He happily grabbed my hand (which is frightening unto itself) and proceeded to visit with Mommy. I tapped her on the shoulder and asked...."Does THIS JACOB Belong to You???????" She appeared confused at first...seeing how she would have no idea what Jacob actually looked like...and how on earth would a total stranger know her kid's name?? I proceed to say..."if you want to bring up a MONSTER...that is totally your business...BUT...much to my chagrin...it has become my business...since you have decided to terrorize the ENTIRE grocery store with your precious little JACOB!"

She was outraged with me...enough to grab onto little Jacob's hand and storm out of the store. Two women applauded...several others mouthed "thank you!" as I proceeded on with my quest for groceries...with a victorious smile on my face....and absolute silence until I reached the check out.

“When you left your home, you deprived the village of it's idiot”-anonymous

Lynn
;)

Lady Golfers ROCK!

No one is more shocked than me to learn that I am now a Lady Golfer! My husband has been an-over-the-top golf enthusiast for years now...and he has pestered me near to death to take lessons. So, in attempt to make him happy...less about me...I went to the Atlantic Golf Academy on PEI last week...never swung a golf club in my life...except to get the ball through those damned windmills! In fact, I was such a golf virgin I was wondering where the friggin' windmills on the 18th hole were! LOL!

So, Tuesday last...I met up with my personal instructor "Montague Lou" and started on my new adventure! With absolutely no expectations...I did remarkably well!I was amazed at how well I seemed to 'get it'. Now, mind you...Tiger Woods will not be shaking in his boots worried about me on his heels...but I really 'connected' (pun intended) with the game. By the end of day 2...I had my own set of golf clubs,golf shoes, little pink tees and pink balls, bag boy golf cart, little glove...and a visor of course!

On Thursday, hubby and I joined the local driving range...and I again I remained surprised every time I hit a golf ball....a fair distance (about 100-120 yards) straight up the middle! Then, on Friday...we hit the local par 3 course. For those of you who are not golf enthusiasts...this is the 'baby-starter' course. I will not be 'allowed' (as per hubby) on the BIG BOY course for a while. We did the last 9 holes...and I was proud as punch with how I did! All of this 'shock' and 'bewilderment' goes all the way back to high school when our advanced phys Ed class played golf for a semester. My teacher offered me a 75% to set the club down and sit out for the remainder of the term....this was following a near fatal blow to a classmates head with a wayward ball. So, in traumatic fashion...I buried this belief in the back of my brain that I cannot do it...ever again. Imagine my surprise when no birds, rodents or golf instructors were injured during my learning process!

So, on my last day off...I got all geared up and headed out to the driving range on my own. I absolutely LOVED it! Imagine the stress relief of smacking the hell out of balls for an hour! Then, last night...a great friend joined hubby and I for the 'back 9'...that's big time golf lingo you know! Last night was such a blast! Again...I did quite well..and played much better with the encouragement (and empathy)of 2 people. Thanks to Sonja...hubby did not walk off the course with one of my new lady golf clubs bent in the shape of his head!LOL!

So, here is the most amazing part. I went to Weight Watchers to get weighed yesterday. I approached the scales with trepidation as I did not track what I ate...except I did eat Deluxe French Fries and Fish, a Fudge Brownie Blizzard and many other infarcts throughout the week. I was shocked to discover I had lost 3 pounds! Can you imagine how well the weigh-in would have went had I followed the WW plan? I am beside myself with joy! I tried something new and intimidating to me. I actually LOVE it...and I am losing weight having fun! Imagine that!

I am not advocating that everybody run out and invest in golf clubs and a membership by any means. I AM advocating adventure...trying new things...even if you are scared...or doubtful. I tried something new...and lucky me I LOVE it. Plus I get incredible advantages such as stress relief and exercise and weight loss. This beats doing the exact same routine everyday. I have now discovered a whole new side to myself....patience, persistence, adventurous...to name a few. Golf (my new adventure...not necessarily yours) has given me a sense of accomplishment....a new social sport to participate in with friends and outdoors all day...or by myself at the driving range....either way...I would never have known if I hadn't tried it! Life is either one big adventure or nothing at all.

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”-Andre Gide quotes

Lynn
;)

If Easy Bake Oven's Could Talk...

I LOVED my 'Easy Bake Oven'! My oven was the original green monster...with the burned chocolate cake mix and any hope of identifiable finger prints from my index finger...on the light bulb. If I had of known how cheap light bulbs actually were...I would have changed the bulb...but instead I baked a katrillion cakes with the baked on scent of melted skin and chocolate. Sadly, back then...when you baked all the mixes...the 'Easy Bake Oven' was done too!

Ten years ago, I don't know who was more excited when I gave my step daughter an 'Easy Bake Microwave' for Christmas. The only difference was a plastic pan (microwave safe...although it was still only a freaking light bulb!) instead of that super duper HOT metal excuse for a pan. The aesthetics were much improved...as were the utensils... the box...the mixes...a little plastic apron....oh damn it...there is a HUGE difference...who am I kidding? It's even a LOT more difficult to burn yourself. The other big difference....is the variety and availability of Easy Bake mixes...so you can create until you are blue in the face. You can make an Easy Bake triple mocha layer wedding cake now if you want! VERY DANGEROUS...to the perpetual dieter.

This morning the Weight Watchers leader was discussing fool-proofing your home and being prepared for cravings. As usual there are the 'dufai' (that's plural for dufus)who offer tips of veggie trays, and fruit trays...and how to make rice cakes orgasmic....yadda, yadda, yadda. If the 'dufai' actually followed their advice...they wouldn't be taking up two chairs at Weight Watchers now would they? Anyway, I told the leader fool-proofing was a good idea in theory...IF you don't have an 'Easy Bake Oven'. One night...during a losing battle with an out-of-control craving...I remembered my step daughter's 'Easy Bake Microwave' in the very bottom back of her closet. I also topped up her bake mixes a few months before for her birthday. Never mind that she was 17 and not using it anymore (just joking)...I never dreamed that those damned little packages...filled with God Knows WHAT...would taste so GOOD! Who knew one ounce of water could lead to an orgasmic tasty treat? The best part was mixing in just the right amount of water....and licking that goo off my fingers...while the white cake with the multi-colored sprinkles was baking....oh excuse me...'nuking-a-la light bulb'.

This was a deep dark secret that I had kept in the bottom-back-depths of my closet! Imagine my surprise when everyone not only laughed hysterically...they all poured out their crazy psycho secrets....half of them also admitted to similar secrets... ate their kid's Easter bunnies the night before and ran out to the dollar store for emergency replacement...Halloween candy (portion control for the kids of course)...'Easy-bake-play-dates'...where refusing the proceeds of love from your child in the shape of a rock-hard-burnt-chocolate cake (with finger prints burned on)is totally unacceptable! I was shocked at how therapeutic my confession was! I had carried around this guilt-shame-your-a-freak secret for 10 years...only to find out I am of the majority....we all had such a great release....surprisingly...the 'dufai' had a few special secrets too...and it didn't involve chewing on styrofoam-esque rice cakes!

Sadly, as we all grow older...there is never a warning that "this is the last time you are going to have fun with your Easy Bake Oven...the last time you will color as a kid...the last time you play 'Barbies' with your girlfriends. There is no warning that you are all of a sudden not a child anymore. It just happens. I am still traumatized by the day I saw my big green Easy Bake Oven sitting on it's side amongst the garbage at the end of the driveway. The wind was knocked out of me...my entire baking career flashed before my eyes...and the tears flowed freely...I went and said my good byes...coddled it like a pet that had just been hit by a car...on the side of the road. This was something that had to happen...a rite of passage that is unavoidable. BUT...I still FEEL like a kid....I still will jump in with a kid who wants me to skip or color...I will never tire of home-made macaroni cards...or Easy Bake Oven treats!

“There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.”-Deepak Chopra

Lynn
;)

Stop and Smell the Roses

I saw the signs...I opened up my eyes and saw the signs...

I don't know if anyone out there is superstitious or not...but I sure am. My entire childhood my mother would say that "company is coming" if she dropped the dish towel..and by Jesus they did! Then, if someone dropped a knife everyone chanted....knife to the floor...whore at the door...and next thing you knew my sister's crazy friend Chrissy would drop in (sorry Chrissy!)...another time a bird flew into our house...not the beak-bending 'into the house'....like the bird came through the door and flew about inside our house. My mother cowered in fear as this is a sure sign of an impending death...and sure enough...her Father died within 24 hours! Another nasty superstition is a hole in the bread represents a hole in the ground...you know...when you dive into a new loaf of bread and there is a hole in each piece of bread? I was certain I had killed my own Grandmother with that one...sure enough she died shortly afterward. I needed years of counseling to conquer that! I STILL hold my breath every time I dig into the middle of a new loaf of bread!

So, I find it ironic that I am someone who grew up to find meaning in all kinds of signs and coincidences...that I failed to see the blatant signs right in front of my eyes! First of all...a very dear friend of mine went in for a routine surgical procedure and almost died! I tormented myself for 6 weeks while she fought for her life in a coma...worried sick....running case scenarios in my head...praying...begging....and my best coping mechanism of all...DENYING. It really didn't set in until the day I grabbed a coffee and zipped off to go and see her in another town. In order to avoid taking anything away from her miraculous recovery...I was not about to babble on about what I went through. I went through sheer terror and hell...worried sick...begging God to have mercy and give her back to me. This made me feel selfish...but I didn't have the chance to tell her how much she meant to me. How much her funny and inspiring e mails lifted me up and put me on my feet...over and over again. I learned not to wait until tomorrow...don't take things for granted.

While I was going through this torment, another good friend told me she had breast cancer. Excuse me??? This is supposed to happen to other people...the ones in the TV commercials, movies....wherever...just not here and now with my friends or people I know. I stayed calm, cool and collected...as I should...as others expect from me because I am a ROCK! I listened....and silently worried myself SICK! I spent the night as this friend's personal nurse the night she had her lump removed. I felt honored to be the 'protector'...I kept post...ready and waiting for anything she needed. The whole breast cancer thing didn't seep in until another colleague who beat the shit out of breast cancer came in before discharge the next day and discussed good days...and bad days...and wigs...and chemotherapy...and fatigue..reality slapped me really hard...right across the face! I kept my game face on...then came home to worry myself sick! Our friendship has grown tremendously since then. I went to change her dressings everyday...but it was actually a fun time to gossip and giggle and have girlie time. Her breast cancer scare has turned out to be a wake up call for me too. I have learned to enjoy the moments.

Then, the beauty of these occurrences shone through... it is an awakening....maybe a rude awakening...but still an awakening of sorts. It SCREAMS..."PAY ATTENTION...life is too short". I realized worrying about weight and other mediocre things is an extreme waste of time...or 'burning daylight' as Dr. Phil would say. I have 2 speeds....super-low-speed-denial-maybe-tomorrow mode....or all-out-ridiculously-high-speed-expectations and pressures upon myself. I either plan to start dieting, quit smoking and start tomorrow...or I place crazy high unattainable goals upon myself....like I will be fluently bilingual and do a triathlon and lose 100 pounds in the next 3 months! I realized...waking up and running all over the roses....or wait and see if the roses are still there tomorrow is tearing me to pieces! This pressure on myself (worrying or sprinting) is sucking the energy and life right out of me. I am missing the point...and 'hoping' tomorrow brings a better day. I reflected and decided my behaviors of the past "just ain't working"...so I have to change what I am doing...or nothing will ever change. I took a load off. I am sad to report that I have put my triathlon training on hold...BUT with good reason. I was placing so much stress on myself...that something that is supposed to be exhilarating was becoming a strain. I was adding more and more pressure on myself. How can I take weight off...when I am taking on so much burden and more weight? I no longer wish to be a beast of burden! I have decided to spend more time doing what really matters...spend time with my friends and family...doing lunch, coffee, chatting, laughing....writing more...and literally just breathing deeply and smelling the roses.

Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.-Virginia Satir

Lynn
;)

The Biggest Loser is WHO?

I cannot watch The Biggest Loser on a regular basis. For some yet undiscovered mental issue...I eat and eat and eat like a maniac...uncontrollable actually. I don't know why...I can probably list off 1 million psychological reasons why...but which is applicable to me...who knows? I did tune in last night...quite by accident...just channel surfing...and felt compelled to stop. Last night's episode was the last weigh in before the finale next week. I was shocked to see Ron still there...the 54 year old father from the father and son brown team. Ron started at 430 pounds,with high blood pressure, arthritic knees, and a multitude of other health issues related to obesity. I selected him to be the first one booted off...and one of the trainer's Jill confirmed she did too. He has lost a total of 151 pounds since the show started.

No matter how many problems (perceived or real) I have with weight loss....this man's battle was magnified 10 fold to lose each and every ounce and pound. Every move he makes is very difficult...painful...and his body reacts negatively...almost as if angry that he dare to try to change now...but he keeps going. Last night, all 4 contestants participated in a full marathon. If they finished the marathon...each received a $10,000 check to donate to the charity of their choice. The TV audience was made privy to their private thoughts and struggles to continue on in the race...and despite that horrible negative voice in all of our heads...they kept going. As each contestant crossed the finish line...they showed a video of each of them before they started the show...at their highest weight...giving themselves advice on how far they have come...how much they have accomplished and to NEVER give up or go back. It was extremely inspiring!

Then, along comes Ron. By the 5th mile of the marathon (26 miles) his knee was throbbing in pain and he was limping. BY the 9th mile he had to sit down at the water break and they discovered that his blood pressure was dangerously high (202/102)! The EMT's were called in and the Dr. was dispatched to the location. I was certain he was going to be pulled from the event...and I literally LOST IT! Despite tremendous pain...insane trembling...and a horrific headache and dizziness and psychotically high blood pressure...Ron never once even suggested that he was not going to continue. After eating a snack...and consulting with the Dr...Ron got back up on his feet and continued!!! I was heaving from my tears...I went into an uncontrollable crying fit! At mile 17 the group of past Biggest Loser Winners met up with Ron to walk with him to the finish line. During the last mile...his other son who remains extremely obese...joined his father for the last mile...his other son Mike...who is one of the finalists...waited at the finish line....when Ron finally crossed...I LOST IT!!! I must have bawled for an hour or more! I was totally mental!They cried in a group hug...by this time...I could barely breathe...I was hysterical!

I use this blog to share my weight loss pain and struggles...and VERY embarrassing moments (Spinning on the Full Moon for one)...and I sat here stunned...what the hell is wrong with me? I have nothing to complain about. I have 2 feet and a heart beat. I have 2 gym memberships, I walk, I bike...I love exercise. I just get easily frustrated...if I gain a pound or don't lose a pound after sincere 150% effort...I fall of the wagon and it takes me weeks to get back on. I am not consistent with my efforts...but in some bizarre screwed up mind game...I convince myself that I work out "all the time" and cannot lose weight....this is not true. I go regularly for weeks and then with one fell swoop...or rogue pound...it's toast for a month...I sit glued to the couch...let the pity party begin...again and again. I also convince myself that I follow a healthy diet religiously...but blank out the McDonald's moments...or pasta for 6 dinners...or Dairy Queen Fudge Brownie Bowl! After the show...my husband threw a fitness challenge at me... a minimum of 30 minutes everyday of exercise...religiously...walking, biking, gym...whatever...he is in it with me for the next 30 days. I do not have high blood pressure, or arthritic knees... or hellish pain with every step...I do not have a single excuse! I am not placing a ridiculous expectation on myself...no specific number on a scale ...no specific size to reach...just stop whining...and wishing...and start moving...moving in the right direction! If I ever feel sorry for myself...or fall off the wagon again for a ridiculous pity party... I am going to imagine Ron trembling and limping...and continuing... and get off my ass and move!

“The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours - it is an amazing journey - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins.”-Bob Moawad

Lynn
;)