the long and disturbing one

I've been a fat kid my entire life. Okay. I take that back. I had a few years in my late-teens/early-twenties where I rocked a fairly hot bod (though never thin); anyway, I'm tired of being fat. I'm tired of my body hurting all the time, not working right, and just looking gross, and it's time I did something about it.

Like most other fats, I'm great at making excuses, but what I know (as does everyone else) is that all of these excuses are just lies. Lies I tell myself to keep me down. Lies that make it okay for me to be unhealthy and to continue feeling bad about myself.

I should say that I'm not an anti-fatty. I'm totally down with fat activism, body acceptance and all the other body positive movements out there, but I'm not healthy and that has to stop. If I could be this size and have happy, healthy pregnancies (I have struggled with infertility, and had a very difficult pregnancy with my first, and only child), if I could do the kind of physical activities I enjoy without struggling, then I don't think I would have a problem being in my body in its current state. But, the fact is, none of these things are true. Before I have another baby (and I really, really want to) I need by body to be in a place where I'm not at risk for pre-eclampsia or gestational diabetes. I need to be strong and healthy enough to attempt a VBAC. I want to be able to run a marathon one day. I want to take my family on long hiking/camping trips. Basically, there are a lot of things I want my body to do that it currently cannot.

I've hemmed and hawed over whether or not to create this blog, wondered if I wanted to share this struggle with God knows whom. I finally capitulated that if I am going to be successful, I need to be accountable for my actions, and I need there to be some risk involved in that. That means posting pictures of myself in a bikini knowing that someone I know could possibly see/find this. It means talking openly and honestly about how big I've really gotten. It means not hiding behind layers of fat and fully admitting what I would like to do and the real changes I need to make. So, here we are. Moderately embarrassed, but fully committed.

Which leads us to the numbers. Numbers that bring me to tears, numbers that mortify me beyond my capacity right now.

I am 5'4" tall. I weigh 260 lbs. (even). Yeah. I'm closer to 300 pounds than to 200 pounds. I weigh more than professional football players. I can't even imagine how tall I would need to be to make this weight acceptable. There are few men in my life who weigh more than I do, and that kills me. I'm Biggest Loser fat. I have a BMI (which I don't necessarily agree with this as a measurement of health, but nonetheless) of 44, or "Obese" possibly "Morbidly Obese". My fat could/might kill me. And I'm done. Done with all of it.

My ultimate goal is to weigh around 125 pounds. At my smallest, I was 145 and a size 8/10, and I know I would feel good at the lighter weight. I know that losing that much weight in a year is unlikely, but I think that losing 100 lbs (putting me at 160) in a year is feasible, and I want to make it happen.

I plan on staying accountable to this goal by daily posting my food and exercise journal. I also plan on posting things that motivate me toward success (rewards for mini-goals along the way).

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