5 down, 60 to go...

As I typed the title of this post, I smiled and then sighed deeply. Make no mistakes about it -- I am incredibly proud of myself for getting through Week 1 as well as I did, and for dropping five pounds (even without exercise -- I'm adding that this week, since I didn't think I could deal with everything at once) in seven days. Not bad, if I do say so myself. And apparently, I do.

That said, I seriously can't believe that I still have 60 pounds to go. I know it won't drop off as quickly after the first week or two and it feels a little overwhelming.

But, as all the cliches say...every journey starts with a single step...nothing ventured, nothing gained...and miles to go before we sleep...blah blah blah. They're right. I didn't get here overnight and I certainly won't get back to a healthy place overnight. Which is too bad, because I really like instant gratification. Which might be part of the problem...

Chocolate tastes better than it looks on my ass

Today marks two days of success in terms of healthy, balanced eating. I have many, many more sets of two days to go until I reach my goal weight and size -- and many, many more after that to stay at that size and level of health -- but somehow, two days feels like a bit of a triumph.

First of all, I followed the plan. I tracked every single thing I put in my mouth and I was conscious about putting healthy things down the hatch. I even went to a friend's birthday party tonight and managed not to -- as I always think of it -- 'screw it up'. I allotted enough points for four drinks this morning and planned my eating day around the same. I did not partake in any of the desserts at work, including The Most Amazing-Looking Chocolate Concoction Ever.

In short, I ate in a balanced and healthy way...like many, many people do without thinking. My big fear is still that I'm going to eventually get mentally unhealthy about all of this at some point and want to give up, but I'm also starting to think that the point at which I feel that way might be the most important moment of this journey. Clearly, there's something I'm not dealing with and I'm sure it's popping up in other areas of my life whether I realize it or not; if I can manage to find my way over or around the hurdle, or to (and I hate this idea despite believing in therapy for others, but I promised myself I'd do it if it came down to it) get through it with someone's help, I can only assume I'll be a much happier person for it when this is said and done.

But for now, it's time to watch Teen Mom. You know, because that's clearly targeted at women in their mid-30s. Ahem.

And so it begins...

For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with my body image and with my weight. When I was in elementary school, junior high and high school, this struggle was without merit; I was in great shape and not even slightly overweight.

When I was in college...well, I got fat. I gained the standard freshman 15, and then managed to continue gaining weight for the next four years. By the end of my senior year, I was fatting out of my size 14 pants and realized that unless I wanted to go into the workforce with a wardrobe from Lane Bryant, I needed to get it together. And so, the summer following my senior year, I went on an insane diet and dropped about 30 pounds. I moved to The Big City as a comfortable size 10 and felt decent for a while.

I'm not sure when the weight creeped back on, but I know how it happened; much like a lot of the population, I ate too much and didn't exercise enough. And when I tried to diet, my mental health...well, it wasn't good. The focus on being healthy somehow made me feel worse about my weight and physical appearance than ever before, so I kept giving up -- justifying it by saying that I'd rather be overweight and mentally healthy than skinny and miserable. I am now fairly certain that this not a "one or the other" choice.

The other day, I saw some photos of myself on Facebook, posted by an old friend. They featured me in a two-piece bathing suit, and I didn't like what I saw. I've been trying to convince myself that my current size 12-14 (depending on brand) is just fine with me -- but the truth is that it's not. And further, the truth is that I weigh entirely too much and need to get healthier.

I'm hoping this blog will keep me honest. I started Weight Watchers today, at 5'8", 215 pounds and vascillating between a US size 12 and 14. My goal is to weigh 150 (and my god, I can't believe I have 65 pounds to lose!) by this time next year.

Wish me luck.