First Anniversary of My Diet

Just about a year ago, I got to the point that I needed to do something about my weight.
According to my cardiologist, I was "at risk" for diabetes (something I already knew).
I couldn't reach my feet to cut my own toenails, requiring $30 pedicures every couple of months.
I couldn't bend over without cutting off my breath.
The fold-down trays on airplanes cut into my gut.
I couldn't reach my own posterior to get clean in showers or bathroom trips.  (TMI!)
People who hadn't seen me since childhood didn't recognize the fat me.
I absolutely hated having pictures taken of me because I just looked bloated and fat.
I started having dreams that I was miraculously thin again, but no such miracles happen overnight.
Of all the things that are/were wrong with me, this was one I could control.

Of course, I used the excuse that I got no physical exercise to assist with any weight-loss program.  That part is true.  The part that isn't true is the notion that one has to be physically active in order to lose weight.  It only requires that you "eat less, move more" according to my doctor.  (Easy for him to say!)  Still, the spectre of developing diabetes in my old age was frightening enough that I decided it was time to DO SOMETHING.

I did Weight Watchers with my mother back in the early 80s.  Those were the days when servings and meals were dictated--5 fish meals per week, no more than 3 servings of hard cheese per week, no more than 3 red meat meals per week, 1 serving of liver,  3 servings of dairy per day, 7 servings of vegetables and fruits per day, etc.  It was a totally balanced diet, nutritionally, but many people couldn't do the fish and liver thing.  I lost weight on it but didn't ever come close to a goal before I gave up in favor of just eating "normally".

I did Weight Watchers again with my daughter in the early 2000s.  By this time, the diet had changed to watching points that were assigned to foods based on fiber, calories, and fat.  We both lost weight on that, too....but eventually caved back to old eating habits.

Fast forward to last year.  My daughter, now living 2,000 miles away, was again doing WW with her husband.  She had lost 40 pounds through hard work.  It was at that point that I said, "If she can do it, I can do it, too."  WW had evolved into yet another program.  I don't have the funds to pay for meetings and membership, but I DO have all of the literature from the old program that had once worked for me.  I spent a couple of days setting myself up, then launched on watching what I eat.

One year later, I have lost 34 pounds.
I have NOT felt deprived.   I eat what I like, in moderation, and count everything that goes into my mouth.  I DO feed occasional cravings.  That helps to create the mind-set that I am not being robbed of the stuff I love.

I have given up the notion that weight loss needs to be fast.  If I only lose a few ounces in a week, it is that many ounces that my heart and my joints don't have to handle.

I have come to understand and accept that this is not a diet battle; it is a way of life.  After all these years, I finally comprehend that feeding my face is not the same as feeding my soul.  I will need to be accountable to my dietary needs for the rest of my life.  (At one time, that was absolutely the worst thought I could have.  Be on a diet forever?  Nooooo!)  Self-indulgence is not a reward but a weakness.

Since I don't have the support of other dieters in meetings, I rely on my daughter and friend Judy for inspiration.  I haven't allowed myself to accept the "I blew my diet so I might as well go hog-crazy" mentality.

I can now cut my own toenails.  Keeping clean is easier.  The airplane tables have space between them and my belly.  I am between sizes in clothes (which is problematic but welcome).  I still have many pounds to go before I can consider myself successful in my weight loss program, but I am no longer afraid of snapshot pictures.

Bottom line:  I am proud of myself.
Living alone has its pitfalls about dieting (no one to tell me not to eat something), but also many advantages.  I can control what goes into my recipes and my mouth.  No one around to complain if what I fix doesn't meet with taste standards because I substituted something to make a recipe lighter.

If I live another year, maybe I will be another 30 pounds thinner.  Want to take bets??