In the beginning.

There I was, twenty-seven years of age, boyfriend finally moved in, I traveled to Boston & New Hampshire, I gained a new fur-baby, and 25 pounds. Wait a minute, roll it all back. Boyfriend moved in. Check. Traveled. Check. Adopted a kitten. Check. Gained 25 pounds. Fail.

When that scale rolled over those numbers and landed on my highest weight, a little part of me crumbled. I was no longer happy with who I was. Body wise. I was no longer okay with what I had to wear, or how I looked. I was fed up. I knew that I needed to do something as my body was starting to feel the effects of being morbidly obese. My knee was constantly sore, and my 27-year old hips were starting to cry under all the pressure. No 27-year old should be complaining about hip problems.

Now. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that the journey from realizing that I needed to lose weight to the point that I am now has been easy. It’s been a nightmare, to some degree. I first asked my co-worker (at the time) for help. She even went to Curves to pick up the book that I was going to follow in order to help me out. This was attempt #1.

Attempt #2 happened a few months later after my co-worker became a worker at Curves. I had everything prepared. I knew what I had to do. I was focused. This attempt failed.

Attempt #3 came along just before Christmas of 2011. I gave up after ~3 weeks because it was Christmas Holidays. How on earth did I expect to stay focused on the weight loss journey during the holidays? You can’t tell me anyone dieting/doing a life style change can do it. Maybe they can, but I knew better about myself then to attempt. So I closed down attempt 3 and enjoyed the holidays with the vow that in the new year, 2012, I would start and stick with it.


Rolling into the new year I had to wait a month before starting the Weight Management class at Curves. Not because I wanted to wait, it was because I was going to join a class of a few other people. I was excited about starting the class. I got weighed and had a starting point (some day I promise to share this number with you).

February 3, 2012 is the date of my new beginning. The day I started to change my life. The first week flew by and I followed every note, every rule to an absolute T. I lost a whopping 8lbs in this first week and I was happy.

As the weeks rolled through and each week was a different negative. One week it would be 2-5lbs, the next half a pound, another only a quarter of a pound. I did everything I was supposed to do. At the end of the first Weight Management class (7 week period) I lost a total of 18.5 pounds, tying me with another ‘class-mate’.

I was happy about it, but not yet excited like my supporters. I’ve lost 20lbs in the past and gained it all immediately back, so my hopes weren’t exactly high. I wasn’t skeptical, but I wasn’t optimistic either.

We took a hiatus in the class until 7 weeks ago. When we started session 2 of the class. When I first started this class I was heading to New Brunswick with my friend Kesh on a mini-vacation and I knew that the first week would be a complete fail. I tried my hardest the first part of the week to follow what I needed to follow, but when in New Brunswick it was incredibly difficult to find a decent salad on any menu we read. My body consumed so much salt that I gained back 4lbs (which quickly washed off after lots of water consumption).

Lets roll this forward, shall we?
7 weeks came and went. At the end of this session I’ve lost 10.75lbs. This has brought me to a total weight loss of 34.75lbs. When the scale cracked 20 pounds I definitely became more excited about everything, about the possibility of being someone who is NOT morbidly obese. To not be morbidly obese, how amazing would this be?

Do I get discouraged? Often. Do I tell myself I can’t have a chocolate bar? Yes, and no. I don’t deprive myself, or I try not to deprive myself. If you do, you will just crash and burn. That being my experience of course.

This is just the beginning. Follow me if you wish.
Cheers,
Adri

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