When I hit puberty, my weight became a problem. I always looked for the easy way out. Anything that would help me lose weight fast. It didn’t matter if I ate the same thing every day – charted my caloric intake – tried every diet known to mankind and some I made up on my own. Losing weight fast is really never a good idea, because chances are your fat will come back with a vengeance, once you’ve gone back to your old eating habits.
There were always the excuses – it’s genetic – it’s my bone structure – it’s my mouth getting in the way of my mind. If you’ve never dieted, you won’t understand this post at all. If you have, I hope you will know that the frustration of dieting is not fun.
As I’ve aged, I’ve probably lost and gained 50,000 pounds. For the past five years I’ve maintained the same weight, which is probably 50 pounds too much. My doctor doesn’t seem concerned, but I know that carrying this extra baggage is causing my hips, my legs, my back and my feet to resent every one of them.
My problem, plain and simple, is that I like to eat – everything. I love ice cream, donuts and all the usual things that make you fat, but I also love salads, vegetables, fruit. I’m five feet tall. I’ve lost a few inches over time. I always tell people I used to be six feet tall and everything slipped down to my mid-section and hips as I lost the additional height. That excuse doesn’t really cut it anymore either.
I don’t drink to excess. I’m not a smoker. I don’t drink coffee. I lead a pretty decent life, but I’m fat. They say when you are addicted to something, the first step is admit you have a problem. I admit it. I’m Kathy and I’m a food-a-holic.
Maybe it’s not a bad idea to carry around an extra few pounds when you get old. You never know when you’re going to get sick and your body uses every ounce of fat to keep you alive a little longer. If that’s the case, I’m going to live for another fifty years. Who knows?