Now that the girls are in school and Jim’s back to work, it seems I’ve run out of reasonable excuses for not going back to that most hated of places- the gym. Back to a sea of size zero puma-clad perfection. Back to three-way mirrors and plummeting self-esteem. Back to the reality that, while I’ve come a long way, there are still many miles to log on the treadmill before I sleep…

All of which begs the question- why did I gain so much in the first place? Sure, ten… even fifteen… pounds can creep up on you when you’re not looking– but forty since moving to germany? I knew what was happening, I have no excuse. Between that and the 10-20 lbs. I wanted to lose before I left the states, I’ve struggled this entire year (and the better part of last) with issues of low self-esteem and shame. Not to mention the very real fear that I didn’t have what it took to reel myself back in. It’s such a blow when you realize you betray yourself… that you’re a slave to some hidden, traitorous part of your own psyche.

That said, in April of this year I decided I owed it to myself to give the whole weight loss thing my best effort. To not just go gently into that good night, but to try, at very least, to regain some lost ground. Five months later and I’m a little over halfway there.

Losing 20+ pounds hasn’t been easy. To the best of my knowledge there are no shortcuts, no exceptions, no workarounds… just lots & lots of discipline, determination and sweat. Have I mentioned lately how very much I hate sweating??

But I also hate feeling fat. What’s more, I hate hesitating when it comes to new situations and gauging everything against the ‘am I too fat?’ scale. As in- am I too fat to wear this? Am I too fat to be seen ordering dessert at a restaurant? Will everyone judge me at this party because I’m too fat… maybe I should just stay home? Yep, the ‘too fat’ school of thought is enough to turn even the most confident woman into a paranoid, self-conscious shell of her former self.

But I’m getting waaaay off topic now. The point of this post is to say that… as much as I don’t want to (and trust me, I really don’t want to) I’ll drag my fat, lazy ass to the gym tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. Not because I want to, and certainly not because I find it fun hanging out with all the terminally thin gym rats who seem to loiter there each day, but because, more than anything, I hate to lose. And losing to myself is simply unacceptable no matter how I look at it. Besides, it’d be pretty silly to let a little thing like fear of the gym/what others think stand in the way of these final pounds.

I’ve worked too hard to give up now…

On this day..

• First day down. - 2006