Getting Back On The Wagon

This year, I'm going to do something that no one else in the whole world would think of - I'm going to vow to lose weight! That's right, I'm blazing a trail, and I invite all of you to follow in my slightly overweight footsteps. Join with me, in this bold new tradition!

Okay, just kidding. I know that I'm not the only one reaching deep down and trying to find some willpower to help drop the 20 pounds. But as some of you might remember from last year, I hate New Year's Resolutions. I completely dislike the idea of being one of the "Lose 20 pounds" lemmings that follow each other off the cliff every January, only to find themselves at the bottom of the cliff in March, a few pounds heavier. And probably dead, although I might be taking this analogy a little too far.

I don't want to be the person that every woman's magazine, grocery, or apparel store is going to be marketing to - the chubster who is making the same goals as they did every year since they had any body-consciousness. I don't want to be that person.

The problem is mostly timing. In the spring, there's the big push (by magazines and ads, mostly) to get your body swimwear-ready by summer. And in summer, it's easier to imagine a diet, because of all the great fresh fruits and vegetables, plus the idea of baking a loaf of pumpkin bread is ridiculous in 100 degree heat. By fall, though, biology kicks in - there's no more talk of diet as we start to bulk up for winter hibernation. The idea of a nice thick layer of fat to help keep warm is good - if I still lived on a farm in 1834. But no one told my body that we moved (and found a time machine).

I think there's a conspiracy. The marketers who are my nemesis in April are busy telling me that the holidays are all about indulging and don't give me a lick of encouragement to buy anything other than the chocolate chips that are on sale.

By January, those marketers have fattened us up like lambs to the slaughter, and have primed our guilt and our pocketbooks to buy every frozen diet entree, every meal replacement drink, every gym membership, every skinny diet guru's book that they can sell us. Plus new shoes and clothes for the gym, because you certainly won't be effective on the treadmill in what you bought back when you were not planning on losing weight. This is the New You! The New You needs to look her best! (That advice will be $59.95, no checks or money orders.)

Well, not me, sister. I'm going to beat them at their game. I'm not going to be at Weight Watchers on January 2, ready to hand over my credit card with all the other Resolutionaries. I don't need the fresh start of the New Year to unleash the New Me. I'm going to start tomorrow.

That's right, I'm going to beat the crowd by going to Weight Watchers tomorrow morning. That way, by the time everyone else shows up two weeks later, I can be one of the "regulars." I can look down my nose at all of the newcomers, who are only there because of their resolutions, and won't be taking up valuable meeting space six weeks from now.

There's really no reason to wait. I've already done the indulgence route, and frankly it's not doing it for me anymore. I've been going to the gym almost daily since September (minus two weeks of never-ending sickness on Darcey's part). I have a husband who is completely supportive and encouraging. The only thing I fear is deprivation. I have true fear of having to say no to eating something I really want. I'm afraid that I'm going to be miserable and never get to do what I want ever again. I'll be one of those boring people, ordering salad at Pizza Hut, chewing on my celery stick at a party when everyone else is having cookies. Looking with longing at the ice cream section of the grocery store, or the chips and cookies aisle.

But there's nothing to do with fear other than face it. So I'm going to, tomorrow. I'm going to stare down that scale at Weight Watchers and the scale is going to blink first. And then it's going to wince when I step on it, because like I said, I've got some weight to lose. But I'm not going to care about that, because I'm a trail-blazer! I'm clearing the dieting path, so all of you can follow after!

I just don't want to find you at the bottom of the cliff. That's going to be messy.