...to Lose Ten Pounds (Part I: The Backstory)

I've been thinking about this post for awhile now, trying to figure out how to write about my "journey" (a.k.a struggle) to lose weight without sounding like a total fatty. But I'm over it, so here's my story. I'll start at the beginning. I think the first time I tried to lose weight was sophomore year of high school. I called it the "Wheat Thin" diet, and that was basically all I ate. It was not something I could keep up long, but I did manage to lose a few pounds. Throughout the rest of high school I maintained that same weight pretty well, as I was living at home with no job and no money to waste on junk food.

And then I moved. I moved far away from the land of my parents' barren refrigerator (sorry Mom and Dad) and into the paradise of Grandma's kitchen. Well, I didn't live in her kitchen (sadly), but just up the stairs. As I went to school the next couple years, they graciously allowed me to live with them rent-free, which meant more money to eat like a boss. I always hear people say "I love you like a fat kid loves cake." Well, I loved cake like a fat kid loves cake.  I warned you I would sound like a fatty.

Yes, yes we do.

So I gained weight like I planned to hibernate forever.  And then I was actually forced to hibernate, because who wants to be seen in that state?  I certainly didn't.  From the time I moved to California to the time I decided enough was enough and I wanted to lose the weight (about three years), I had put on a good 50 pounds.  Yes, 5-0, you read that right.  Looking back on it I am amazed my knee caps didn't just explode out of my legs under the weight of me.

2009.  My brother and me.  Not a lot of full body pics or revealing clothing at this weight.  

I got myself a gym membership.  I hit that gym almost every day after work for quite some time.  The elliptical was my pal.  And when I could ellipt no more, I would move to the stationary bike.  The bikes had the little fans for your face to make you feel like you were riding a real bike, which was like the best part of the gym besides the time when The Office was on TV and I got a machine in front of it.  

I cut my meals down to microwaved frozen chicken breasts and veggies.  Sometimes brown rice.  It was plain, but effective.  I was losing weight, for the first time in years.  It felt so good.  I actually got excited about getting on the scale.  And then, when I hit a plateau and stopped dropping the pounds (I had lost about twenty), I took to home exercise instead.  My workout series of choice?  TurboFire.  I followed the schedule and everything, and after about a year of hard work I had lost 40 pounds of that 50 I had gained.

2012.  My sister and me.  Many pounds fewer, arms showing, legs actually fitting into "skinny" jeans.

And you know what, that was good enough for me for a long time.  It was an impressive feat, in my opinion.  Not only had I lost 40 freakin' pounds, but I got strong!  I played volleyball on a regular basis, and even better than I did in high school.  I started to enjoy shopping in a way I hadn't in a very long time.  And most importantly, I was finally healthy again.  It felt good.

And that brings me to my point.  I'm ready to get rid of those extra ten (or more) pounds.  It's time.  My body seems to cling to it for dear life.   And my mind simply cannot handle going back to microwaved chicken.  So I will have to work a little harder as I get closer and closer to my goal weight.  Stay tuned for Part II: The Process!