Protein shake and donut box now reside.
Donuts taunt with their maple-y frost--
But the protein shake says, "at what cost?"
"You've worked so hard, why come to this--
For one single moment of sugary bliss
Think of your goals, and how far you came
Don't take the bait, 'cause you'll be to blame!"
The donuts play stupid, but really beguile
"Girl -- just eat me!" they say, with their sugary smile.
Then they fall quiet, like some ominous sign
Now the choice to be made can only be mine.
So on that counter, still 1-2-3
The donuts and my "goal goodies" speak to me--
But I choose to make the better choice
They may be speaking, but it's still MY voice!
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"Girl...just eat me." Yeah....NO. That's exactly how I got here over the past two years, pretty much eating whatever I wanted, grazing at my desk on goodies, not working out any more than the 10,000 steps I'd log in at work. 5 turned into 10...then 20 and now a number that Shall Not Be Named. I kept thinking as it went up -- Diet schmiet.....I can lose it if I want.
Well...once you turn 50, you have to do more than WANT it. You have to WILL it.
Yeah...work. Ugh. Fat makes you beg for mercy when you are over 50.
My whole life I have struggled with my weight, mostly due to a host of poor food choices as a child. We were comfortably middle-class -- emphasis on comfortable -- and my parents were always on some type of diet (usually Weight Watchers). I only ever knew diet sodas and skim milk, ice milk "ice cream" or the awesome Weight Watcher "shake" (frozen strawberries and skim milk). My mom would always give me some if I asked. mmmm.
I ate pans of biscuits while watching CHiPs on TV, drooling over the buttery goodness probably more than Erik Estrada. I made onion dip and destroyed a bag of chips listening to the radio on the weekends, or watching hours upon hours of trivia-show television. Babysitters made fried bologna for us and we ate fast food and Dairy Queen at least three times a week. (Honestly, as I write this...I am surprised I wasn't heavier.....) I rode my bike everywhere, so I guess that kept me from getting too tubby.
It didn't help that I was also pretty gawky (read:UGLY) as a kid. I had bifocals in first grade, so they called me "six eyes" instead of four eyes. Bullied repeatedly for several years after that. Gaining the weight didn't help as I got older. Finally got contacts and ditched the glasses, but not the chub.
Tenth grade. Yearbook class. Brian-freaking-Shirey. Hecka cute, athletic, blond feathered hair, comb in the back pocket.....every 80's girl's dream boy. I had a big time crush on this kid. Big. Apparently he thought of me the same way...not crush though--BIG. I overheard him talking to another classmate in the dark room (they didn't know I was there). "You know, Michelle would be a lot prettier if she wasn't so fat......." Luckily no one can see you cry in the dark.
Devastated doesn't describe. He soon started dating another Michelle who was on the cross-country team -- athletic and thin. Actually, looking back I think she might have been anorexic or something. She never ate, just ran. Now I wonder what she was running from....
For awhile I wallowed in self-pity and extra runs to Farm Basket, Naugles, and Dairy Queen. But then....something just clicked.
I did this....but I can change. I can fix this.
And I did. Crazy-like actually. I lost 20 pounds that summer with Slim Fast, swimming, and smarter food choices. I did summer school and volunteered 40 hours a week at the hospital. By the time I went back to school for my junior year, I was a "new" girl with a sweet new wardrobe in smaller sizes. And BOY did it get me a lot of attention..... Brian who?
The problem was -- in my head, I was still that fat, awkward gawky girl with a bunch of useless trivia in her head lying to herself that she "fixed" things. It took a LONG time before I could finally say that the inner Michelle and the outer Michelle were ever travelling together.
Fast forward (past a lot of other future blog posts) and here I am 4 kids, three moves, a few pets, one sassy grand-daughter, and 30 married years later....and I am again looking at the outer "fat" girl wishing she would change.
Then I heard my voice from the summer of sophomore year.....You did this...but you can change. You can fix this.
So buh-bye sugar. You are NOT my friend anymore.
Hasta la vista, you bad carbs. Get thee hence!
Come on in, portion control, protein shakes and plain yogurt...have a seat and stay awhile. Chicken, avocados, and the occasional cheese stick -- you are welcome in my house. You too, spinach salads.
My gorgeous hubby and I are going on a cruise for our 30th anniversary and I will be damned if I let that "fat" girl in my head board the boat with us. Her "fat" friend in the mirror won't be going either.
I did this...but I can change. I can fix this.
Screw you, pink box. You don't own me.
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