Day 11

I am indeed losing it. Down from 213 to 203 today. I don’t want to do the “goal weight” thing because it sounds like I will get some trophy at the end. For me, it also spells an end, when in this case, daily wellness is my destination.

I simply want to get into a (more) healthy program, and shed some extra pounds in the process. I guess that’s my goal, right?

I get my picture taken often, so I’d prefer to be less conscious of getting caught in the candid shot, where I am not doing the suck-in belly pose. I am smiling, but you can see that my teeth are actually being used to seal in the oxygen. If I opened my mouth slightly, you would hear a sound that resembles poking a hole in a tire.

I am doing these special shakes, which are really working. I still have energy, and feel satiated at breakfast, allowing me to have a full and refreshed morning. But once I see the lunchtime coming, I begin to obsess over my “reward” of a hearty meal. Gimme something to chew on, baby!

It is so hard to believe that I’m even thinking about losing pounds. Nostradomus would not have predicted this if he knew me as a boy.

I had four major food groups – candy, hot dogs, peanut butter and soft pretzels (with mustard). Ketchup was dumped on things like I was pouring motor oil into my car. And I always had to have Charles Potato Chips and Tasty Kakes with every meal.

I turned down so many foods. My mom had to cook on the down low, so she could hide certain ingredients. If I found an onion in something, that was the end of the meal right there on the spot! I turned into Ghandi on a fast against the British. Only my cause was not so noble…

The result of my picky eating was the body of a child Sally Struthers would raise money for. I recall thinking, when I would see her commercials with the starving kids by her side was my thought; “even those kids wouldn’t eat Lima Beans.” One time, I took my vegetables and put them in an envelope and told my mom to send them to the “starving kids across the sea,” as she called them.

My grandmother teased me about “seeing my ribs,” but nothing could get me to eat better. I was skinny to the point where I swallowed weight gain pills. In 9^th grade, I was the only wrestler who had to GAIN weight. I was my own class, below the minimum to be in a division. While the rest of the team was running in rubber suits to get down, I would be gobbling ice cream cones with sprinkles (although we called them “jimmies”).

So, I am now grown up and obviously do not have the metabolism of a field mouse anymore. I’ve been over 200 lbs for many years, which is still hard to comprehend, considering I was in high school trying to break the century mark as my “goal.”

It is sometimes hard for me to grow up, which ain’t helping with the growing “out”!