A little more history

I don’t think I was ever a skinny kid. The dress I wore for my grade school graduation was a size 16. I slimmed down a little in high school (size 12 or 14) because I found a love for tennis, and was very active with that and assorted academic activities.

Then I went to college in Wisconsin, land of beer and cheese. Like most young adults away from home for the first time, I gained weight. Even being on the tennis team in college didn’t help, and after two years I found myself unmotivated to continue with the team sport. I steadily gained weight and thought it didn’t bother me.

Of course, things like shopping became less fun, especially when all my girlfriends were significantly smaller than I was. I bought a lot of purses to soothe the pain of not fitting into clothes in the shops my friends frequented. I kept gaining weight and thought it didn’t bother me. From the outside, I was in denial.

Of course, I knew I had a problem. I couldn’t walk the two miles around the lake by my apartment without stopping to stretch because my back hurt. Climbing one flight of stairs was a challenge that almost required oxygen. My feet and knees hurt almost constantly. I wore a size 24, and if I had been honest with myself, I would have gone up to a 26. I was 23 years old.

It wasn’t until the summer of 2000 that reality hit. My mom and I took a road trip to Montana to visit my sister and her family. Along the way, we stopped at Mount Rushmore and took photos. When I returned home from the trip, I took the pictures in for developing. When I received the prints back, I was shocked.

I did not recognize myself. I knew that was me, standing there, because I knew that the ivory tank top with the olive shorts belonged to me. But I did not recognize the face. Everything I had been thinking and feeling, along with all the conversations with my mom became real with that picture. Right then and there, I knew I had to make a change. I had to admit I had a problem with food, and that I needed help to make that change.

I began a new chapter in my life on July 1, 2000. I walked into the Weight Watchers meeting center near my apartment, and I registered. Walking though that door, admitting to myself that I needed help with my weight, was one of the hardest things I have ever done. The scale said 271.2 pounds. In my mind, I had guessed 260, maybe. But 271! Again, I was shocked. At 5’6”, that weight put my BMI at 44. Obese. Well, I told myself, knowing is half the battle.

There is truth to that last statement. I have known what has gone into my mouth since that day when I became a Weight Watchers member. I am proud to say I have never seen the numbers 271.2 on the scale ever again. I am also proud to say that I have never quit, nor have I ever given up on myself since that day. I have not gained back the weight I have lost; since I began, the trend has always been downward, despite occasional bumps. I am not always successful at losing weight, but I never stop striving towards my goal weight.

When I first started, losing at least 125 pounds was an unthinkable task, an insurmountable number. So I focused on smaller goals, 10%, and 10%, and then 5 pounds and so on. It was a slow process. I had losses, and I had gains. This bothered me. I felt I was taking too long to lose the weight; I wanted it to happen on my own timeline, or as fast as possible, whichever came first! Of course, my body wasn’t inclined to accommodate that timeline. It was trying to teach me something. I needed to learn lessons that will last a lifetime, and my prolonged weight loss journey has given me the time to learn. Slow moving or not, I am closing in on my goal.

On November 18, 2006, I reached the huge milestone of losing my 100th pound. My eyes filled with joyful tears as WW staff members, who have been with me through all these years, hugged me for my accomplishment. That truly is a day I will never forget.

The march is on towards more goals. Now, however, weight isn’t the only goal. Time has helped to change my thinking about this journey. It isn’t just about the weight, it is about health and fitness, and setting a better example for my nieces, and my husband’s son, and the children we will someday have together.

I was never well acquainted with exercise. Sure, there was tennis, but I quit playing in college. So I began my relationship with fitness by walking. Eventually, as I lost weight little by little, the pain in my knees left. Soon after, the pain in my feet left. Before too long, I was walking around that small lake without having to stop for any back pain.

I kept on walking, but I wanted to be able to do more. I wanted to run. Running used to be something that I would only consider if my life were in great danger. But somewhere along the way, the thought crept into my head, “I wonder if I could.” For a long time, negative thoughts overwhelmed any positive thoughts, and so the urge lay dormant. Then I moved to an apartment along the lakefront in Milwaukee. During the summer of 2005, watching all the people running along the lakefront paths, the seed was finally planted. I decided that someday, I would run. It took six months for that seed to grow, but in December 2005, I ran. I ran on my treadmill, in my living room, for about 30 seconds before declaring my insanity. And catching my breath. And trying again.

The training began. I did my own interval training, building up from 30 seconds to a few minutes of running at a time. I set a goal to run a mile by my birthday, in June. Then I found the Couch to 5K program on the Cool Running website, and ran that mile in April 06. Motivated by my success, I decided it was time for a new goal. I was about six weeks into C25K when I found a running program for beginners, organized by the Wisconsin running group Badgerland Striders, and joined that. I completed my first 5K on May 20, 2006 (our “graduation” from the running class). I hoped to finish in under 45 minutes. My time: 41:45. Mission accomplished.

That was only the beginning

I kept running, and completed six more 5K races that summer, finishing the seventh with a time of 38:14. I also started attending cycling classed twice a week since July 2006. My thoughts during the first class: “What am I doing here? I must be crazy?! I can’t do this.” But I finished that first class, and came back for more. I enjoy it far more than I ever thought I would.

2007 brought about a new challenge. I registered to run the Napa to Sonoma half marathon, taking place in July. My training consisted of running three to four days a week, something that never would have been imaginable before. I crossed the finish line in over three hours. For my first distance run, I’ll take it.

You already know that 2008 was more of the same – training for a second Wine Country Half Marathon, with the added benefit of raising funds in honor of a good friend, in order to raise awareness and funds in the fight against Crohn’s disease.

My third half marathon is coming up on May 2, 2009, with a fourth to follow in July.

This page has the following sub pages.

• Down through the ages…