It's hard to admit when you have a "problem".
A week ago, on 5/21/2012 - I admitted that I have an f-ed up relationship with food. I used food to celebrate. Reward. Nourish - yes, but not in a healthy way. If I felt bad, I would eat - then I felt bad because I ate because I felt bad. See - vicious cycle of madness.
I'm not 100% sure where or when I went awry. Maybe I was so used to pretty much eating what I wanted and not gaining weight. Or, fertility treatments. Or, it was pregnancy. Or, thyroid. Or, turning 30. Or, turning 35. Or, ... enter myriad excuses here.
Last Monday I weighed 197.8#. That is makes me obese according to my BMI and at substantially higher risk for pretty much EVERY disease than someone who has a "healthy" BMI.
It's not okay to be overweight. It's not. It's unhealthy. It's bad for you. Period. You can read more about BMI and the diseases associated with obesity here.
I REALLY like my life. I'd like to live a long time.
So, on 5/21/2012 I started Medifast. It's strict, it's what many would deem extreme calorie restriction - and you can read about Medifast here if you want. Or, don't. Either way, I followed the program of 6 meals per day perfectly. Not. One. Cheat. Not. One. Slip. I drank the water. I ate the meals. I weighed & measured my food.
And, you know what? I didn't feel deprived (much). I wasn't hungry. Was it hard? Sure. I'd rather eat ice cream and nachos and sit on my ass and be a size 2. But it was simple. And, for the first time in a long time I feel free. There's so much life left over when you're not obsessed with food.
Today, 5/29/2012 was my first Medifast check-in, and I weighed 190.0# on the button. (I'm pretty sure if I'd skipped breakfast I could have broken into the 180s ... oh well, next week.) That's 7.8# gone. I didn't lose it - I didn't accidentally drop it somewhere. No. I friggin' SHED it. I evicted it. I said: "Goodbye you unhealthy cellular baggage. It's time to let the skinny girl out."
That's me and the kiddo at The Aquarium here in Houston - I'm really looking forward to ditching that spare tire. Ick.
