Arguing With Myself: The *Last* Twenty Pounds

A year ago, I weighed over 250 pounds.  I couldn't walk from my office to the bathroom without getting winded.  I was wearing size 24-26 clothes.  I didn't fit in my desk chair.  It hurt to tie my shoes.  I was nowhere near healthy.  In medical terminology, I was morbidly obese.  That's not a description you ever want to hear.  I had always been a little heavy.  I'd even danced around being obese.  But I never imagined I'd hit morbidity.  Talk about a wake-up call.  And I was only 25 years old.

For the first six months of my weight loss journey, I was SERIOUS.  I lost sixty pounds in six months.  I dropped from a size 24/26 to a size 14/16 alarmingly fast.  It was amazing.  Since then, I've held the weight off.  But I also hit burnout.  I stopped actively trying to lose weight on November 7.  Although I'm ridiculously proud of the fact that I haven't gained any weight back, it's time to get my act together.  I've only got 20 pounds left to lose -- seriously, how hard should that be?  If I could just commit again, to LOSE not to STAY, I could be smaller than I was my junior year of high school.  I finally picked a real goal -- I found my sports physical form from when I was a junior in high school (prior to the knee injury weight gain) and I want to be 10 pounds under that.  Seriously -- if my morbidly-obese-25-year-old self could talk to me now, it would be SCREAMING that I get off the couch and start running.  But here I sit, blogging about running.  I believe this is called irony.  

To be honest, it feels damn near impossible to lose the last 20 pounds.  I dropped sixty pounds in six months (and the first 30 was in six weeks), but that last twenty is stubbornly holding on.  I'm arguing with myself about whether I should eat the bread with my salad--or if I can have "just one" cheat day a week. I actually talked myself out of going for a walk this morning. What the heck is wrong with me?  I've lost the urgency.  I'm no longer morbid.  I can buy clothes in "normal" stores.  I get comments about how great I look all the time.  My motivation is lacking.  I've got to kick my butt into gear.  

We are moving to South Carolina this summer.  I will have to buy summer clothes (those size 22, 24, and 26 shorts won't really work anymore).  I do NOT want to buy clothes again until I hit goal.  I will reach my goal (173 pounds) by June 1.  This is my promise.  To myself, to my amazing readers, and to my clothing budget. Here goes nothing.  I'm re-joining the YMCA.  I'm training to run a 5K.  I have no excuses left -- I am reaching the finish line this summer.  No excuses, no delays, no arguing with myself -- it's time to hit size 10/12.  I've got a little over ten weeks to lose twenty pounds.  Let's do this.