Once again, in my life of up and down, I have started a new and improved eating plan. Yes, I have shed pounds before. Yes, I have gained them back. I think over my post-childbearing years, I have lost and found about 387 pounds. (That’s 129 pounds per child-birth experience, but who’s counting?) All gains were in small increments over many small dishes of pistachio almond ice cream and bits of spinach/artichoke dip slathered on crispy chips. Seriously, it didn’t seem like much at the time. Really.
Then BAM! I woke up one day and realized my fat jeans were tighter than Superman’s suit. THAT is tight. Again, a “healthy” plan must be consumed. (Terms used lightly… especially “healthy”.) My most previous losing plan involved LOTS of protein and vegetables. Ketosis, it is called. My kidneys and leg muscles still cry out at the mention of the word. The plan did work while I was on it. The results were amazing, but there was no follow-up or follow-through or follow-anything other than the popsicle man as he drove down the street slowly serenading me toward a fudgesicle.
When the student is ready the master arrives. ~Buddhist proverb. I find it ironic that the Buddhist proverb is true in my venture toward a healthy lifestyle, being that Buddha could certainly use a healthy eating plan himself. Anyway, as I was squeezing into my fat jeans, refusing to buy that next size that I have NEVER purchased in my lifetime, I received a message on facebook from my jr. high choir director. Yes, that’s a few years back. She is a health coach and noticed that I have more than several friends on facebook. She was inquiring if she could tap into my fat friend list. Normally I don’t share people or programs unless I know they are legitimate. So I agreed to be her prodigy before I share the wealth with my chubby chums.
Yesterday was the completion of week number five on the Take Shape for Life plan… and the number on the scale told me that BAM! 17 pounds were indeed missing. That is a 3.4 lb. per week loss. My too-tight pants are too loose. At this rate, I should be my ideal weight right in time for plum pudding, gingerbread men and rum balls. Only one serving of each, of course.
It’s a wonderful feeling to be under the heavy-weight fighter’s weigh-in number! The difference between this program and the last 17 is that there is follow-up. There is a health coach that will haunt me for life. There is an eating plan that leans toward normalcy in the aftermath of the BMI suggested weight for a woman of my height (where there is no consideration AT ALL to my strong Scottish and Finnish husky bone structure.)
Yes, I’m sure you’re thinking, here we go again. Believe me, I am thinking the same thing. But there is a glimmer of hope that I will be able to fit through the crack from where the light is shining at the end of the tunnel.