Janus
Sometimes I feel like I have two heads, facing in different directions. But as this journey goes on I'm constantly changing my focus.
When this first started, I was running away. Running away from being fat, from being obese, from being out of control. I was heavy, and I was gaining. I don't have the stats to back that up, but I know I must have been. My clothes sizes were gradually getting bigger, and I'd not been that size all my life. By ignoring what was happening, I lost control, and I lost the power to direct the direction of my own weight. Or at least to direct it downwards...
So, I was scared of that carrying on. I didn't want to end up at 20 stone, or 300 pounds, or wherever my inexorable weight gain might lead me. I was running away from a future of obesity, and I was terrified. I had no idea where I was going, just that it was somewhere other than where I was. I had very little idea of the task in front of me, and I had very little idea how overweight I was. If I'd known that I would have to lose roughly four stone to even be considered overweight rather than obese, the task might have seemed too big, but I wasn't bothered about that. I just didn't want to be who I'd become.
But as I've gone on, more and more people ask me the question "how much more". I set vague targets at the beginning, more based on nice round numbers than any sort of reality. I've never been thin, so I have no idea what I'd be like at 12 stone, or 11, or in the case of a miracle 10. But recently I've started to look a little more at where I'm going. I don't feel like I'm running away from my fat self any more, I feel like I'm looking for where the thin me might live.
I think it helps having lost over 50lb. I feel like I'm somehow past the worst. I've retrained my habits, and I've got to a weight where I feel relatively comfortable most of the time. So now I don't need to be as scared any more of going back where I came from. Sure, I could put all the weight back on if I went back to my old way of living, but as time goes by that becomes less and less of an option. And I've lost enough weight that hopefully I've got enough space to stop the slide before it gets that bad (sure, everyone says that, don't they, but I've got to keep myself believing it for the sake of my own sanity, even if it isn't true for everyone). I know that realistically the rest of the weight could be harder and more stubborn to get off, but I do feel like I'm on the home stretch.
I still don't really know exactly where I'm heading, and where I want to stop. But I'm getting more of an idea now. And I'm starting to look forward to the day when I get there, rather than just looking back and being glad I'm not so fat any more.
I'm still running, of course. But round parks rather than away from my fat suit.
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Does anyone have a dignified response for when someone tells you you're looking really good and wants to chat about your weight loss but you have a mouth full of chocolate? Someone had been on holiday and brought some gorgeous chocs in. Obviously, being good I only had one*, but got cornered seconds after popping it into my mouth. That'll teach me...
* of each type
When this first started, I was running away. Running away from being fat, from being obese, from being out of control. I was heavy, and I was gaining. I don't have the stats to back that up, but I know I must have been. My clothes sizes were gradually getting bigger, and I'd not been that size all my life. By ignoring what was happening, I lost control, and I lost the power to direct the direction of my own weight. Or at least to direct it downwards...
So, I was scared of that carrying on. I didn't want to end up at 20 stone, or 300 pounds, or wherever my inexorable weight gain might lead me. I was running away from a future of obesity, and I was terrified. I had no idea where I was going, just that it was somewhere other than where I was. I had very little idea of the task in front of me, and I had very little idea how overweight I was. If I'd known that I would have to lose roughly four stone to even be considered overweight rather than obese, the task might have seemed too big, but I wasn't bothered about that. I just didn't want to be who I'd become.
But as I've gone on, more and more people ask me the question "how much more". I set vague targets at the beginning, more based on nice round numbers than any sort of reality. I've never been thin, so I have no idea what I'd be like at 12 stone, or 11, or in the case of a miracle 10. But recently I've started to look a little more at where I'm going. I don't feel like I'm running away from my fat self any more, I feel like I'm looking for where the thin me might live.
I think it helps having lost over 50lb. I feel like I'm somehow past the worst. I've retrained my habits, and I've got to a weight where I feel relatively comfortable most of the time. So now I don't need to be as scared any more of going back where I came from. Sure, I could put all the weight back on if I went back to my old way of living, but as time goes by that becomes less and less of an option. And I've lost enough weight that hopefully I've got enough space to stop the slide before it gets that bad (sure, everyone says that, don't they, but I've got to keep myself believing it for the sake of my own sanity, even if it isn't true for everyone). I know that realistically the rest of the weight could be harder and more stubborn to get off, but I do feel like I'm on the home stretch.
I still don't really know exactly where I'm heading, and where I want to stop. But I'm getting more of an idea now. And I'm starting to look forward to the day when I get there, rather than just looking back and being glad I'm not so fat any more.
I'm still running, of course. But round parks rather than away from my fat suit.
----------------------------------------------
Does anyone have a dignified response for when someone tells you you're looking really good and wants to chat about your weight loss but you have a mouth full of chocolate? Someone had been on holiday and brought some gorgeous chocs in. Obviously, being good I only had one*, but got cornered seconds after popping it into my mouth. That'll teach me...
* of each type
posted by YP at 7:01 PM
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