Look at The Fat Girl

I am 39 years old and I have been "heavy" my whole life. You can call it what it is and avoid all the happy, supposedly less painful euphamisms like "big boned" or "overweight". Call it what it is...fat. I currently weigh 220 pounds as of this morning. That is officially my heaviest weight ever. I have tried just about every diet known to man and the only one that ever worked was the Atkins Diet. However, as an advocate for animals, I find it very difficult to sustain a diet of almost entirely meat and cheese. And I can't imagine what it does to my cholesterol level. So, that's out. Recently, my sister-in-law, Mickie, lost weight. She looks fantastic and you can tell in speaking with her for 5 minutes that she feels better too. I want that.

The other day I had my niece, Nikayla, feel my knee as I bent it. She is a student of physical therapy and is well schooled on kinesiology and the way knees are supposed to work. Mine clicked and ground and popped as I flexed and extended the joint. I didn't have to look at Nikayla's face to know it wasn't a good thing. I have stopped using the stairs in favor of the elevator because it is getting too painful. Nik said that my patella, or knee cap, is not in the patellar groove where it is supposed to be...on either knee. When I jokingly said that I expect to have double knee replacements before I am 50, she didn't disagree and my joke suddenly wasn't funny. When the clicking and popping of my knees lessened when I sat down and flexed the joint, it became painfully clear that a lot of the problem is the weight my knees are asked to support.

In 1995, my mother was diagnosed with emphysema. She was told to quit smoking or she would die. She quit and she is still here 15 years later. In 2002, my father was diagnosed with pretty severe coronary artery disease. He was told that they would not do open heart surgery to correct the problem as long as he refused to quit smoking because they felt he did not stand a meaningful chance of recovery as long as he was smoking. Dad still refused and he died in 2003. Recently, my oldest brother, Roy, died of a heart attack at age 55. He had high cholesterol and high blood pressure and, surely, his doctors told him to quit smoking. He didn't. I don't know if that would have made a difference, but there may be a chance he would still be here if he could have given up that vice.

So here is the deal. I don't want to die young and I don't want to have my knees replaced. I don't want to live in a wheelchair because my knees can't handle my weight. I don't want to be incapacitated and unable to walk my dogs. So, it is time to lose some weight. My goal is 75 pounds, which would get me down to a respectable 145.

Normally, I am very private about my efforts to lose weight. I hate being open about it because I feel like everyone is looking at me, watching my failure time after time after time. I feel like everyone is pointing and laughing and saying, "Look at the fat girl." I pride myself in completing tasks and being successful in things that I do. Weight loss has been the greatest struggle and most tremendous failure of my life. So, I have decided that it is time to get people involved. Maybe I need the pressure of being watched by people that care. Maybe I need the pressure of being questioned about how much I have lost or gained. Maybe I just need to be in a position to prove myself to others. So consider this your official invitation to look at the fat girl. Watch me get thinner before your very eyes. I know I can do this. Food is my vice and I know the biggest obstacles that I face will be mental and emotional ones, not physical ones. But if I don't do this NOW, I will soon be faced with physical obstacles as well. I have to help my knees before it is too late. The warning signs are there and I need to follow my mom's example and listen to them.

So today begins a journey. Today is the first day of what I know will be the longest, most difficult year of my personal life but it has to be done. Fasten your seatbelt...