I did two things last week that will hopefully put me on the road to better health. They may also put me on the road to a nervous breakdown, but I’m taking my chances.
On Tuesday I marched myself (and three reluctant kids…they weren’t expecting this side trip) into our YMCA and registered our family as members. I have been wanting to do this for a while and figured if I just went ahead and took the leap, I would have to feel compelled to go in and work out. We’ll see how that psychology holds up over time.
Then on Thursday I went for a follow-up with the doctor who is helping with my high blood pressure. It’s been three months since my last visit, and having to report to her that I’m not excercising, haven’t changed my eating habits, and have still not been monitoring my blood pressure at home (I haven’t even bought a cuff!) was basically humiliating.
I’m 35 years old and it drives me crazy that I have to take medication for my blood pressure. Especially since there’s SO MUCH I could do to at least try to reduce my dosage or get off the meds altogether. So…my doctor and I had a little “talk.”
She drilled me on what she called “my plan.” What will I eat? How will I stick with it? What am I going to do for activity? What is my time-frame for goals? How will I reward myself for meeting my goals? She was brutal, but in such a necessary way. And by brutal, I mean she told me that I need to lose 85lbs. Like, now.
The one light moment during an appointment where I otherwise wanted to cry happened when she looked at my BMI (Body Mass Index). Figuring the calculations of my height/weight, she paused and said she never would have guessed that I fit into that “morbidly obese” category (oh, yes I do). She commented that I sure wore my weight well.
Um…thanks?
Actually, I knew what she meant, because I think it’s one of the reasons I haven’t “gotten real” about my need to lose weight before – I’ve never really FELT “obese.” My body’s framework has been able to carry the weight decently over the years, and it’s only been the last year when I have started to actually feel. the. pounds.
And, oh, do I feel those pounds these days. I just feel so HEAVY. Bogged down, less energy, blah. I have too much pride to say that I would ever want to lose weight just to look good. But losing weight to FEEL good? That’s a goal I can get behind.
My doctor said I will not have any real success unless I keep a food journal, so I’m starting on that. My husband and I are going to the Y tonight to take a tour and sign up for their 12-week personalized fitness program. Aside from blogging about this, I’ll be keeping a paper journal, too, wherein I will probably scrawl on various days, “This stinks!” or “You can do it!,” depending on my mood.
This is going to be a long process, and I’m just hoping I can wear my optimism as well as I’ve apparently been wearing my weight.
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