So, I plunged forward into the “DIY” landscape. It gave me an immediate sense of peace but brought with it instant feelings of fear. If I could do it myself all these years why hadn’t I done it already? Two hundred pounds was a huge mountain (pardon the pun) to climb, and I needed an easier way to break it down.
First things first – I had to get rid of the notion I was “losing weight.” Damn that phrase. It had been stuck on my side like a tack for over twenty years. I couldn’t simply lose weight, it had to be something I could understand. That phrase didn’t bring any meaning; it had been beaten to death. It wasn’t exciting to think about, and it brought no sense of passion.
My knees. Now that’s something I could understand. The pain associated with walking almost had me barricaded in my home most days; fearful of going out because I didn’t want to be seen walking with a cane. The pain pills I had to take daily; now there’s something I understood. One to two doses of hydrocodone so that I could clean my house. That always there, throbbing on my right side, that kept me up most nights. The bags are developing under my eyes from not getting a good night’s sleep. That cracking sledgehammer feeling digging into my shins with every step and tiptoe. Yes….. I saw and felt this every day. My knees, my poor knees, yes, I understood this.
I did the quick math in my head during one of those first few days. For every pound of weight I removed from these poor limbs, it would equate to 4 pounds of pressure when I moved. Talk about instant gratification? It nearly brought me to tears understanding these legs finally could feel better every day? When I started thinking about my legs this way, it was something I could wrap my head around.
The next thing I did was made peace with time. It doesn’t mean I’m not getting impatient already. It simply means I get it. It’s going to take time. Try and wait. That’s about all I can do.
So here I am almost three weeks later and 23 pounds down. It wasn’t so bad. I’m having to learn how to fill my boredom with things other than snacking. I constantly have to ask myself if I am hungry or bored in fact it’s an actual conversation in front of my refrigerator. “Are you hungry… or are you just bored”? I came up with a new game. It’s called “Apples.” If you aren’t hungry enough to eat an apple, you aren’t hungry. Apples….
