258.6

Hi.  I'm here for one reason.  I need to lose weight.  I need to lose weight badly.  I'm 34, and I have everything in my life I have ever wanted.  And I'm not happy.  Because I'm fat.  Uck.  I hate that word.  "Fat".  It has so many emotional connotations, so many societal stereotypes.  So much negativity.  But there it is.

So here's the data.  I'm 34.  I live in the south.  I'm an attorney.  I have my own firm with great partners, doing work I really like.  I am married to a great man and have two beautiful baby girls and one sweet step-son.  I have it all.  Nearly.  Except I'm 5'11" and weight 258.6 lbs.  Yes, fat.  fat.  Ugh that word.

My health background - I'm obviously tall so I've always been heavier than my friends, but didn't really start to be overweight till college when I put on lots of weight.  I got frustrated and in lawschool joined Weight Watchers for the first time.  I committed myself to it and lost 40 lbs, got to my goal weight of 167, and looked and felt great.  I ran a marathon the next year.  I was happy.  Then it started to come back.  Slowly at first.  I'd fight it, get back on the WW wagon, and then give up again.  Then came pregnancies.  I didn't gain as much as some women do, but I started out big and any gain was bad.  I actually lost weight in my second pregnancy (measured from the day I found out to the week after delivery).  But I've actually gained weight since the baby rather than lost.  How awesome is that.  So, baby came in January.  Now this is June and I have no more excuses.  I have a very busy life.  I have a wonderful life.  I have to get this piece in line.  There are no excuses that should work.

It's 9:00 pm.  My babies are in bed and I'm sitting on my ass writing this blog post.  So step one - get off my ass and go get on the treadmill.  A little about that - being a former marathoner, and a highly competative and proud person, it's hard for me to get on the treadmill these days.  It's hard to admit that I can no longer run even one mile without walking, let alone 26.2.  I can't even really run much at all without risking pain and injury to my overly weight down joints.  So here is my first step.  I give myself permission to walk.  Just walk.  If I feel like running a little bit, I will.  But I don't have to.  Maybe that will let me get into a habit of just getting on the damn thing.  Then I don't feel like I fail if I can't run much (at all?).  I hate to fail.

So here I go.  Putting the littlest one into her crib now and heading downstairs to the treadmill.

Will report back...