It’s 6:42 a.m. on a Tuesday. I’ve just finished chomping through a Carmel Delight Crisp Bar—“Naturally Flavored,” net weight 1.13 ounces (32-g). The bar contains 110 calories, 11-g of protein, and 2-g sugar. Its wrapper features grape-color ink on the top half and sports the word OPTAVIA in a san serif font below a circular, multi-faceted logo. Though small, this chewy-crunchy morsel is actually a weapon in my battle against morbid obesity—a depressingly accurate description of my current condition: I’m not just fat. Or heavy. Or big-boned. I am obese, a.k.a. “grossly fat”—and morbidly so, a modifier that takes fat to a whole new level: Ghoulish. Gruesome. Grisly. Just one step away from monstrous—a step that would no doubt leave me out of breath.
Being overweight has been an elephant in the room of my life for as long as I can remember.
When I was a kid my uncle George in Pennsylvania called me Dumbo, the name of the flying baby pachyderm of Disney fame.
“Flaps down, Dumbo,” he’d say when I entered a room.
I wanted to run into the wind and fly away.
That’s more than 65 years ago. It still hurts.
Since about age 18, my weight has fluctuated wildly between 152 and 395. Up-and-down. Up-and-down. Up-and-down. (I may have gone over 400 at one point, but I stopped weighing myself when I got close.)
Today I weighed in at 376.5 pounds—one day after beginning my OPTAVIA adventure.
Jennifer, a friend I met at church, had posted before-and-after photos of herself on Facebook. The contrast was striking. But it was more than the weight-loss results. It was the way she smiled in the after photo—a smile generated from within. Confident. Happy.
I wanted that smile. I wanted what she had. And what she had was OPTAVIA. I gave her a call. Signed up.
Yesterday Jennifer suggested I keep a journal. This is my first entry. A new day has begun. Let’s see what happens. In the meantime, take care, and God bless.
PS: Lost almost a pound the first day. Not a bad start. Not bad at all