When I think back to all the difficult but worthwhile things I’ve done in my life— bouncing back from being fired and launching conferences that draw thousands of women each year— none of it was handed to me. Nobody gave me any breaks. I made my own luck and would never have accomplished any of it without sweat and sacrifice. So why haven’t I applied that same tenacity to losing weight? Why am I prone to complacency, or, put a less polite way, laziness, when it comes to attacking the dominant issue in my life? Why have I passively waited for something to magically solve this riddle?
The answer is that for most of my adult life, I have denied the obvious: I was not committed. Not truly. I am committed now. For the foreseeable future, that mission will have my undivided attention. I wake up thinking about it, spend my day doing it, and go to bed determined to forge ahead tomorrow.
I’m over being fat. This year, I want to look normal and feel good about myself.
Somewhere inside I know that to stay on this journey, to hew to this path, I have to celebrate the milestones no matter how tiny they are. I can no longer think that “just one” cupcake, piece of bread, or potato chip is acceptable, because the minute I do, I’ll slide down that slippery slope to disaster. Temptation is everywhere, and I must learn to deal with it. I can’t help but fantasize about a cheat day in my future. If I am really good for two more weeks or another month, maybe then I can look forward to a tasty reward! But as I fantasize about a bowl of cheesy pasta or a soft , warm brownie, I know it’s a dangerous idea. Once I have just one treat, I won’t stop. I know myself. At this stage, there’s no room for moderation or an occasional indulgence. This is basic training and there are no treats.