I bought a plate today. It doesn't sound like much, but I'm hoping it will be.
It's hard to explain the inside of my skull at this moment. Part of me is working on digesting breakfast, another is thinking that my teeth feel mossy and I could go brush them but I might wake up DBS and I don't want to do that. A bit of my brain is groggily asking why in the heck we didn't stay in bed until we got the full eight hours, but it lost the argument to the section that said we really need to get up right now, because it's an emergency.
Some time this week I tipped the scales at 280 pounds. That would be slightly overweight for my 6' 4" brother, who has always been built like a redwood, but it's disastrous for my past-middle-aged 5' 7" (and shrinking) frame. It is an emergency, and right now I'm doing battle with myself on more than one front. I have this tendency to be extremely binary when confronted with something I want to get done yesterday: I'm either all in, planning obsessively and trying to accomplish in two days what other people might take a few months or even a couple of years to do, or I'm sitting on the sidelines moaning about what a miserable failure I am for not being able to establish and maintain that pace. However, when it comes to the weight, I've always known that it was going to take a permanent lifestyle change. I've balked. I haven't really wanted to acknowledge that I can't eat like a teenager anymore. I didn't really want to look the requirement for daily exercise in the eye. So much cozier to curl up with the computer and a warm mug of denial.
Also, and this sucks to admit, I am lousy at creating and sticking to routines. It feels as if there is something unstuck in my brain, some circuitry that didn't get wired correctly. Everybody else that I know seems to be able to get routines in place and stick to them. What is wrong with me that this simple little task seems so completely beyond my abilities? I've been able to create a healthy lifestyle but I've never been able to stick to it past a few months. No matter what I want to be doing with my life I always manage to get derailed.
I need to lose approximately half my current body.
I suck at creating and maintaining routines.
I need to set up an accountability system that works for me, even if it looks like the weirdest thing on the planet to anybody else.
I need to get over feeling ridiculous and ashamed. That I'm lugging around 130 extra pounds doesn't change the essential me - who, for the record, is pig-headed and proud-minded and also immovable once I've planted my flag and raised the battle-cry.
I'm also the one that took 25 years to learn how to knit. And the better part of a decade figuring out how to spin yarn. Which, if I only looked at the pattern dead-on, means that I do master the skills. It just means my learning curve looks more like a series of brick walls that I run into repeatedly until they fall over. I'm fairly convinced that this characteristic may be my true immutable nature. I learn a lot of things quickly and painlessly, and the stuff that is difficult for me I just bloody myself on until I get it right.
So I've set a goal of three hours of exercise a day for the rest of my mortal existence. I don't have to have a particular exercise, it just has to get my heart rate up at least 3 hours out of 24. My goal today is to walk 2 miles.
My second goal is to reconfigure my eating habits for the rest of my life. My goal for today is to work on portion control. Which is why I got myself a plate. Just one. Just one plate that is 20% smaller than the dinner plates I usually eat off of. Less surface space, less food, and if it's just psychological sleight of hand, so what?
One step at a time.
One brick wall at a time.
I'll get there.