I’m statistically doomed. It’s true. That’s what every headline says. I’ve lost an abundance of adipose tissue (obviously tryin’ to sound smart here for you people), and according to just about every study out there, I have a less than 5 percent chance of keeping it off for three or more years.
When I see that statistic, I feel defeated. Despite my previously stated Millennial tendency to think I’m special, that’s a staggering number. What makes me different than 95 percent of people?
Confession time.
I’ve already been in the 95 percent. Twice. As a toddler, I was hospitalized for more than a week after having my first asthma attack. My small body was pumped full of steroids. I went into the hospital a petite 3 year old and came out a puffy, Prednisone-filled kid with an insatiable appetite. From then on I was teased by other children about my weight. By age 10, I was a member of the group Taking Off Pounds Successfully (TOPS). By 11, I was a calorie counting wizard (still am…). And, after being constantly being told how great I was looking, at 13 I was exercising obsessively. At 15, I stopped eating breakfast and lunch. I “saved” all of my calories for dinner. I kept that weight off from about 11 to 19. Then, at 19, I realized I was really tired of being hungry. In addition, working part-time and taking college classes kept me from working out the three hours a day my body was used to. What I had been doing for years wasn’t sustainable. I was burned out. So, I gained weight. It’s a common tale. At 21, I lost the 50 pounds I had gained going from a 10 to a 4. I gained that back and then some. Before my wedding, I literally starved myself for a little over a month to lose 35 pounds…and then gained that back. With each gain I had more to lose the next time around. I’m frustratingly unoriginal.
So why is this time different?
Ulterior Motives
When I’m haunted by these thoughts, and I am haunted by them, I remind myself that I had some very tangible motives this time around. In the past, I would lose weight for nothing but the sake of vanity. I was chasing the ever-illusive idea of physical perfection.
While vanity is always a significant part of weight loss (I don’t care what anyone says), it wasn’t my only motivation. The reason I began exercising in the first place was because my blood pressure had skyrocketed, I suffered from constant heartburn and I could barely clean my house without my feet hurting to the point of tears; all of this at 26.
So, I sat down with my doctor and asked,”Of all the things that are bothering me, what will get better if I lose weight?” He told me I would likely always have asthma, but every other prescription I was on could be eliminated. No more high blood pressure, no more foot pain and no more heartburn. With that, I was a determined woman. I told him I wouldn’t need blood pressure medicine because I intended to control it myself. He was skeptical. I’m sure he’s heard that a million times before, but he clearly didn’t realize I was special. 😉
The doctor was right. After losing 40 pounds, my blood pressure was down. (The picture here is of my blood pressure reading last night. 115/74 with a resting heart rate of 62). It took another 40 pound loss for the heartburn to stop, but it did. The only prescriptions I now take are my inhalers.
In addition to all of the above reasons, diabetes runs in my family – as does a hereditary brain disease. Now, genetics can impact you no matter what you do. I accept that I may not be able to control these things, but I plan to do all I can. I’m continually reading about the impact of cardio on cognitive decline, and I’m hopeful that regular exercise could help delay the onset of this disease that plagues my family. Again, it may not, but I know one thing for sure; regular exercise can’t hurt me. It can only help.
There were also people in my life who really helped me see what healthy living actually looks like, and I plan to discuss that in a future post.
As I said in my first post, I’m not pretending to have found this balance with diet and exercise. I do know, however, that vanity isn’t enough to truly change you. Something real has to keep that drive going. When I’m afraid of falling back into the 95 percent, I remind myself of all that’s at stake for my health.
It’s a new way of looking at things. Physical perfection is in the eye of the beholder. A blood pressure reading is not.
WitheringFlowers 