2013/2003: Week 13

In my quest to re-lose the weight I took off in 2003-2005, I've decided to document each week, comparing life now (first post) with life 10 years ago (second post). My hope is that I can find the momentum that carried me through those two years by looking at what worked for me then.

WEEK 13: 2013 
Beginning Weight: 264.6
Last week's weight: 248.2
This week's weight: 246.4
Week 13's weight loss: 1.8
Total weight loss: 18.2

I'm glad I was able to take off the weight I put on last week -- this truly is one slow weight-loss attempt and I look no different from how I looked 18 pounds ago (I swear). But I'm just trying to plug away, have many more good days than bad and not let the depression overwhelm me. Boston overwhelmed me, as I know it did many people. 

I haven't run since Sunday (which was really a 7-mile hill walk). Every morning, I get up and just want to go back under the covers. Even on this bright sunny day. 

This week brings 5K No. 3 (the second one was better -- I knocked 2 minutes off my time and had my best three-mile time in months) and Sunday's 10-miler. I am extremely nervous about how that one will turn out, though I was happy to see that the race has a 30-minute early start for slow runners. Hopefully, that will ease my anxiety. Because I haven't been able to run much of my "long runs." And the farthest I've gone in this training (9 miles) was a month ago.

Sorry to end on a random note -- but I've got to get to work. That's another thing about not running in the morning -- I oversleep and run late and am all out of sorts. You'd think that would be reason enough to get me out there! Ahh, me.

Week 13: 2003
Beginning Weight: 317
Last week's weight: 283.2
This week's weight: 282
Week 13's weight loss: 1.2
Total weight loss: 33.8

Published: 05/06/2003
The scale finally got to me.

No, not the one I step on at my Weight Watchers meetings. That scale registered a 1.2-pound loss this week. But the scale in my bathroom at home – that one kept taunting me. I’d see it in the mornings and want desperately to step on it to see if my weight went down.

Then, when I’d see the same blasted number – or a higher one - I’d fall into a depression.

So I finally did something about it. Not wanting to be ruled by the daily taunting of the scale (and everyone knows you shouldn’t weigh yourself every day), I put the scale in my closet.

No more daily weigh-ins.

On another positive note, I finally joined a gym.

It was a big step for me. I kept telling myself I didn’t need a gym to exercise – I had the outdoors to walk, I had an exercise room at my apartment complex.

But I knew I was kidding myself. I knew I needed consistency. I knew I needed a trainer to guide me, to keep me on track, to move me in the right direction.

So I did it.

It wasn’t easy – especially the moment when I had my body fat measured. I knew it would be bad, but I still was surprised – and embarrassed – to see the number (49 percent – and believe me, it pains me to share that with you).

“A person your age should be at 18 percent,” the gym employee smirked.

OK, thanks. I’ll remember that.