January 06, 2007~~10:41 a.m.
The one where I blather on about weight issues...

In 6+ years here, I've never really written about this. I didn't want a weight-loss diary, but ultimately it is impossible to escape the fact that it's a struggle that continues to impact my life.

When my mom died nearly eight years ago, my life spun out of control. I was in grad school and poured myself into my studies, satisfying my need for *love* with accolades and good grades. And food. Seriously, I'd be working on writing a paper or something and then find myself standing in the kitchen looking into a cupboard with no memory at all of getting up and going there.

I've never been skinny, but at some point, my body started to not feel like *me* anymore. I needed to do something and decided that *something* was Weight Watchers.

I lost my weight reletively slowly, but perservered... to a point. After losing over 50 pounds, I started a new job and sticking to the plan and getting to meetings became more difficult. We went on vacation and I made the decision, after two years of sticking, that I deserved a break from all that. I was shocked by the scale when I returned home. I skipped a meeting. Then two. I decided I'd go back as soon as I got back below an arbitrary threshold I set for myself. When I still wasn't getting there, I said I wouldn't let myself get over "x" number.

When "x" flew by on the scale, I felt helpless. My weight stablized at my old, post-baby-having "norm" and I settled in to being "old me" again.

Last year, when the number started creeping up again, I decided to participate in a program at my gym. It involved 8 weeks of intense exercise and diet modification. I threw myself in full-throttle and took off 20 pounds, but the level of commitment was difficult to maintain. I know there are people who do it, but fitting in five hours a week at the gym and working and getting to all the kids sports and music events was just impossible.

The exercise tapered off. The eating went back to old habits. And I gained back 10 of the 20 pounds.

Fast-forward.

The new year, along with being just over a year from that ominous 40th birthday, forced me back into action. I'm tired of not liking the person who looks back at me from the mirror. I'm tired of knowing that I'm capable of being a different, more attractive, healthier person, but that I choose not to be.

And so, on Thursday, I went back to Weight Watchers. I feel good about the decision and more in control already. I talked Ame, my teaching partner, into going with me. I kinda doubt that she'll stick with it, but I'll encourage her and hope that she sticks around long enough for me to make some new friends at my meeting.

I can do this. I can get to goal. I can be the *me* I want to be. And the transformation starts now.

~Alice