Thursday, December 31, 2015


I know it’s so cliché to start off a new year with a weight loss resolution, but I’m going to do it, dammit! 

This is the year that I will work hard to lose this weight.  I don’t intend to be 110 pounds.  I just want to be less fat and a little healthier and I want to be able to run from zombies. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?

I’ll have a come to Jesus meeting with the scale tomorrow so I can know exactly where I stand on this journey. I just want to breathe a little easier and not feel like I’m going to die after walking a mile.  I still have my mobility and I don’t want to lose that.

This picture shows how tight my jeans are. I can criticize every body part until I want to cry. But I’m not going to do that right now. This is my motivation to do better. 

Monday, December 28, 2015


As I lay in bed trying to sleep, I feel my heart beat out of my chest.  First it beats irregularly then it gets harder and harder, all while I’m laying still.  Then my breath gets short.  It’s weird because I have trouble breathing both in and out.
I know it has to do with my weight and lack of exercise.  I’m that person who knows better but still eats crap.  Fatty meats, stuff that has been breaded and fried, cheese, sugar, flour, all of it!  I’m not an idiot—I know this stuff is killing me, but I can’t seem to stop eating it.

While in a panic over my heart, I took my pulse and it was 148/89. After a few minutes of sitting up and trying to breathe and calm myself down, it went to 137/85.  Still not good, but at least it seems to be going down.  I’m not on any BP medicine and I just saw the doctor about a month ago about having heart palpitations because they are so scary. She did an EKG right there in the office and said I was fine then sent me on my way. 

I’m 36, which ain’t young, and very overweight.  My last weigh in was something like 235, I think.  It seems like when I’m heavy, I really don’t want to know what I weigh.

I grew up the fat kid and turned into a fat teenager then a fat adult.  Sometime in my 20s, I found out about counting calories and going on long walks and I got down to a respectable 140, but that didn’t last long. Here I am getting older and unhealthy and I am just feeling so down and out about it.  

Maybe this is the kick in the pants that I need?  I know I’m not perfect and don’t intend to live off of broccoli and bananas only.  But I don’t want to die by the time I’m 40.

My husband is sound asleep and I almost woke him when the palpitations came, but I let him sleep.

It’s one thing to be fat, young and carefree.  It’s a different world when you get older and feel your health deteriorating.  I’ll leave you with a very frightening picture of my backside.