I have a hard time imagining that anyone still checks this blog, two years after my last post, even though I've at least forced myself to keep recording my weight three times every month. But here I am on May 20th, 2019, two years to the day after stepping onto a new digital scale that told me I weighed 303 pounds. As you can see, by a fluke I'm currently down exactly 50 pounds today, which counts as real weight loss. At the same time, though, it's still 90 pounds north of the top end of the normal BMI range for my height. I am still morbidly obese, even if noticeably less fat than before. And I still have intervals when I lose my will power and gain weight back; at the end of last summer, I was actually 20 pounds lighter than I am right now, but last fall and winter I fell off the wagon and its wheels rolled back and forth over me a few times. But 50 pounds is still 50 pounds. I'd rather weight 253 than 303 any day. And I still believe that within a year or two (more likely two), I will see a number on the bathroom scale beginning with "1."
Over the last two years, I've learned some things and made some changes. I've read enough about some diet myths I used to accept to finally get them out of my mind, where they used to sit making me feel doomed to long-term failure. I get daily encouragement from reading some of the weight-loss and fitness groups on Reddit, where there's a lot of common sense and where so many successful people demonstrate that losing large amounts of weight is possible. Thanks to my employer, I've also joined The Organization Formerly Known As Weight Watchers, as much for the encouragement I get from the meetings as for the actual points system and eating plan. This has all helped.
Now I just have to push on. I'm not even halfway through 2019 yet, and I want to finish this year lighter than I finished 2018.
2 days ago