Resolve to Change Your Life

It's the middle of January and you all know what that means: your New Year's Resolution is long forgotten, the promise of a new year is fading fast and life is back to normal. But it doesn't have to be that way!

In January 2000 I looked at my overweight body and started crying (again ... eternally ... forever). I'd never been so big. "Obese"--that humiliating, ugly word --was the only way to describe me. I was only 25, but my 51-year-old mother could run circles around me. I went on a walk with two older ladies from work and they were so frustrated by my huffing and puffing that they never invited me for a walk again. My clothes were all too tight. I would find myself in tears at the plus-sized store because even the fat clothes were too small. I was not ready to retreat to those giant mumus that fat women are forced to wear. I looked around and realized I was quickly gaining on one of the women in my church who had always been known as "the fat one." I didn't want to usurp her position. My life was spinning out of control, my body was mutinous and I just wanted another pecan tart.

I'd received a Patricia Cornwell book for Christmas and almost threw it down in disgust. An obese woman had been killed and the morgue lackeys were making fun of her mammoth mounds of gooey flesh. They couldn't even lift her. That's when I knew I had to do something. Wearing fat clothes was not too much. Being made fun of by my students (I was a high school English teacher) was not too much. Having my grandma give me a sad look and declare, "you've got such a pretty face" was not too much. But the thought of morgue workers disrespecting my body as they hefted it onto a concrete slab was over the top. My body had to go.

It wasn't a New Year's Resolution. It was January 4th and I'd already declared that resolutions weren't for me. They never worked. In the past I had resolved to be nicer, to get my work done before crunch time, to wear make-up every day, to stop eating ice cream for dinner, to lose weight, lose weight, lose weight. It never lasted. Something would happen and the resolution would fly right out the proverbial window.

I had no idea how to start, but apparently someone, somewhere was looking out for me. My mom just happened to bring home a special diet that her friend had given her that very day. She passed it on to me because she was very concerned about my health (embarrassing to admit, but true). Amazingly enough, this diet seemed doable. It didn't require the consumption of any fish, yogurt or other unpalatable foods. Instead, I'd be eating bacon, eggs, meat and vegetables with copious amounts of grape fruit juice at every meal. No sugar, no flour, no carbs, but every other weekend I could eat whatever I wanted. Looking at it now I wonder how I managed to stick with it, but I was taken with the idea. I think the every other weekend break is what really sold me. I went back home with a resolution in my heart. I refused to call it a New Year's Resolution, but it was the strongest resolution I'd ever made. I would worship this diet and I would lose weight.

Amazingly enough, I succeeded! I lost 80 pounds in six months, shocking all my friends and family. You'd think that would make me skinny, but it just put me in the "overweight but not disgusting" category. My doctor was horrified by the diet and suggested I exercise, limit fat and sugar intake and eat whole grains. I took up exercise with a will and quickly became addicted. I'd never known how powerful a little thing called an endorphin could be. Eventually the no-carb diet became too much for me and a rising cholesterol level convinced me to take the doctor's advice. I switched to a low fat, little sugar, whole grain diet and continued to lose weight. The key was the discipline. Six months of no carbs and three meals a day with no snacks had taught me that I didn't need to eat a cake every weekend or a bowl of ice cream every evening. Instead of snacking, I could go to the pool and take a swim or take a brisk walk around the neighborhood. It's been four years since I resolved to lose weight and I've been steadily going down in size since that fateful day that Patricia Cornwell gave me a jolt.

Here are a few of the things I learned along the way. I think they're applicable for anyone looking for a life change, not just people who want to lose weight.

Recovering alcoholics know best. You have to take your transformation one day at a time. My uncle has been sober for 17 years, but he never says he's cured. He just says "I don't think I'll have a beer today. Maybe tomorrow." I've learned from this. I say, "I don't think I'll eat a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough today," and it usually works.
One mistake isn't the end of the world. There's no way I can not cheat. I don't cheat often and when I do cheat I beat myself up, but then I go on. Yesterday I ate three pieces of fudge. That doesn't mean my life is ruined and I'm going to be a big fat cow forever. That just means I enjoyed three pieces of fudge yesterday and today I'm going to eat a can of pineapple when I have a sugar craving.
Transformation will take place only if you're ready to transform. I've always been fat and I have always wanted to lose weight, but I'd never been able to do it. I don't know what the problem was but some part of my psyche refused to take the necessary actions. My psychology major roommate claimed it was because I was scared I would be rejected if I lost weight. Her theory actually makes a lot of sense: as long as I was fat I could use that as an excuse for rejection. If I was skinny the rejection would be because of my personality. I was never able to lose weight when I was longing for a boyfriend, but after I had one the weight slid right off my body.
A plan is essential. "Lose weight" is a very vague goal. I needed something specific. A diet. A work out schedule. A real plan. This year I've resolved to write more. Again, I needed a plan--a writing schedule, a daily word goal, an editing buddy. Transformation doesn't take place because we have a desire or a dream. It takes place because we have a plan of action and we follow it.
The start date doesn't matter. Sure, there's something symbolic about the first day of the year, but there's nothing magical about it. You can start on March 4th, July 27th or October 9th. It simply doesn't matter. Instead of waiting for a special date, make your resolution and begin immediately. Have a last hurrah if you must, then change your life. I started on January 5th and never looked back.

So there you have it. The story of my pseudo-New Year's Resolution success story. I went from an extremely obese, unhappy, bitter, long-haired blonde to a fit, happy, optimistic, short-haired brunette. I would share a picture from that time in my life, just so you could nod your head and say "damn, you were one fat chick" but I wouldn't let anyone photograph me in those days. I'm glad those days are over.