Week Fifteen: Down 50 Pounds

I share this for no particular reason.

I came in at 293.4. I am mortified to even say that. Because I have never been overweight. I have always been skinny. Really skinny. But, call it the blues, call it weakness, call it whatever, but the pounds started coming home to roost. Worse, food became a drug. I would shovel so much crap into me. I'd be tired. I'd nap. I'd get up and shovel something else in and top it off with baked goods.

I was talking in French with an old nun. Remember how back in the day women learned French and played piano? Well, here we are. And she asked how I learned French and I said I taught myself. She was impressed and I replied, 'I study at least an hour a day and I get my news from France and I read as much in French in possible. You know, if I just went to the gym one or two hours a day, I'd be thin in no time.'

I felt like a complete *kitten* after I said that. I have taught myself three languages by patient study and diligence. Meanwhile, I can't believe I am fat and I am sad about it and I don't want to go outside.

The next day, I went to the gym. The first week, I ate whatever I wanted to see how much I was eating. Come to find out, it was between 1,800–3,000 calories. I started on the treadmill for forty-five minutes just to get my wind back. I can't do an hour of cardio for some reason. But forty-five is right on the money.

After three weeks on the treadmill, I started splinting and moved to the stationary bike. But the seat hurt my bony *kitten*. So I got a nice gel seat cover and that did wonders. Then I moved on to the arc trainer.

That is a machine invented by some twisted Torquemada who decided, 'What if we take the pain of a StairMaster and add the torture of an elliptical.' There are Bosch renderings of the human form on there to show what muscles will be in constant pain from use.

I will say I am in love with this awful Catherine Wheel of Fat Shaming. When I started on the treadmill, I would burn 300 calories. Now I am burning 600–700. Still forty-five minutes.

Yes, in another cruel twist, all my weight went into my torso. My legs, still fantastic. My wrists are thin as are my arms. Genetics. I think because my waist stayed rather svelte, I didn't realise I was losing so much weight.

My plan was simple: take in fewer calories than I burn. Duh. I eat six days a week. I eat 1,800 calories. I fast on Monday (my rest day from the gym). I do six days of cardio. I do core exercises on Wednesday and Sunday. I do upper body weights on Friday. That day kills me. I sleep like ten hours that night.

So after fifteen weeks, I have lost fifty pounds on the dot. I will be spending the summer in Vermont, so I will be biking everywhere in addition to going to the gym. Lots of farmers' markets. A big lake.

One strange thing that has been happening: I am eating fewer and fewer calories. I am eating about 1,500–1,600 a day, which I find odd. It is happening naturally. But meals heavy in vegetables fill me the heck up.

I still enjoy booze. I was running errands and skipped lunch and I got a Big Mac Meal (at 880 calories). I have Ben & Jerry's. The difference is I count my calories. I see nothing wrong with eating whatever I want until I reach my calorie goal for the day.

And if I go over, so what. I eat less the next day. I'm not going to get lunch with a friend because I'm dieting? That's ridiculous.

That is why I like fasting on Mondays. It gives me a lot of flexibility.

And listen, I am no one special. No one goes to the gym with me. And I don't post on Facebook or anything. I don't want the pressure of being asked if I lost weight. My initial goal was to lose ten pounds a month. I am losing closer to fourteen. I weigh myself on Mondays. Otherwise, I just live life and I exercise.

But I can't wait for summer where I will be living somewhere you walk and bike everywhere. That's going to really jump start things as I am on my way to lose the last sixty pounds. I am almost over the halfway mark. Good for me.