Monday was a new day. It sounds weird, but I woke up different; with a greater purpose. Brushing my teeth that morning, I looked at my face that was all swollen and blotchy from crying so much the night before. I had not one clue how to tackle this huge problem.
Let's start at the beginning, I thought. For starters, I didn't know how much I truly weighed. I mean, I knew I was overweight. I was probably around 200 pounds or so. I didn't own a scale. I always said "it wasn't important to me." Looking back now, I was kidding myself and I should've had one. Everyone should. It keeps you honest and helps keep you on track. As luck would have it, Charlotte had her one year check up that day.
After the nurse weighed Charlotte and took her height, I asked if I could weigh myself. A doctor's office was a perfect place to weigh for an accurate starting weight. As the nurse escorted Charlotte to the room, I jumped on the scale and slid the weights. I couldn't believe my eyes. There, as plain as day: 220 pounds.
Charlotte was came away with being deemed a healthy, thriving one-year old. I held it together until I got into the car. Then, I cried, but only for a minute. After all, I knew this wasn't going to be easy. I just had a little farther to go than I previously thought.
Now I knew what I was working with. Now, what to do about it? We arrived home and I thought to myself, I've got to get moving. What can I do? I don't run, I don't have any weights.... Then, I thought I'd taking Charlotte for a walk in the stroller. After all, standing is better than sitting. Walking is better than standing. I loaded her in and off we went. We strolled along and I thought, well, no day like the present. I began to walk as fast as my little legs would carry me. Charlotte squealed with delight, she loved the fast pace! I could feel my heart pumping and the beads of sweat forming on my neck. When I started to get tired, I pushed harder. This was not going to be easy. Don't wimp out in the first 12 hours. Up the hill. Faster. Don't stop....
Before I knew it, 20 painful minutes had elapsed. We stopped in front of our house and Charlotte was clapping and laughing. I had sweat rolling down my back and pooled on my chest. As I gasped, trying to catch my breath, I realized: I feel fantastic. Not to mention Charlotte had a blast.
We went inside to the comfort of air conditioning and water. I set Charlotte up with a snack in the highchair. What else could I do? I didn't have weights, but I knew how important weight training was. Then, I had an idea. Next to the Cheerios were two family-sized can of Cream of Chicken soup. I picked up each. A good start I thought... so, as Charlotte ate her cereal, I stood behind her with a can of soup in each hand and slowly and methodically raised my arms up to 180 degrees, then above my head, than back to 180 and down. I did several sets of these. After a while, my shoulders and arms felt tired.
As far as eating went, I focused on two things: low fat and limiting my carbohydrates. I already knew the dangers of eating too many carbs from a bout of gestational diabetes. I began reading labels and most importantly, I wrote everything that I put in my mouth down on paper. Why? It keeps it real. You can't lie to yourself. It sits there and stares you in the face.
And, after a week, you can see what worked for you if you lost weight. Or, if you didn't, what didn't work.
Not a bad start, I thought. The first whole day ended on a high note; I needed that. This was going to be a long road. Deep breath. One foot in front of the other....
[note: there is a great website out now that I WISH I had at the time. Check out MyFitnessPal.com]
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