There's not a lot I have in common with Oprah. Technically.
Most of you have probably seen the cover of the January 2009 issue of “O” magazine, and if you haven’t, I’ll refresh your memory.
One of the things I’ve always loved about Oprah is that she definitely keeps it real. Even with the billions of dollars that must just float in the air around her, she’s always trying her best to be a good human. I think many times she succeeds. And seeing this latest chapter in her weight loss journey kind of struck home. Real close like. I present my own January 2009 issue, which will highlight some of why it’s hitting so close to where I live:
(click on the image to see it larger in a separate window)
Aside from the obvious point here (graphic designers are nutty and have a lot of FUN!), I present to you the start of my challenge for 2009. To be puffy, or to not be puffy.
I am not one to ask, with luminous doe-eyes, "How'd THIS happen?" Because I know how it happened. It happened when I stepped off the treadmill, canceled my Weight Watchers online membership, and began to eat nearly everything I saw. For months on end.
Sigh.
Oprah's cover says, "How did I let this happen again?" And although she too knows full well (and writes about it at length) how it happened, I know the feeling. It's a feeling that you've somehow let yourself down, again. It's a feeling that likes to make you feel like, pardon my French, shit. That somehow, you're a failure because you didn't keep control.
I get that. And I struggle between wanting to immerse myself in a vat of self-loathing to trying to rise above and take the highest road possible in order to achieve optimum health.
In other words, I like to say, "I'm going to get into shape for my health and longevity," but in reality, I just want to wear a pair of size 10 jeans and feel hot again.
Keep in mind, these are MY issues. I think women and men have to decide where they are most comfortable. I know that right now, my chest is getting in the way of my arms, and when I bend over to tie my shoes, so is my stomach. It's not comfortable for me, and so… I have to make a choice.
Now part of me is sad. Just like when I knew I had to quit smoking. And then, I wasn't just sad. I was devastated. Just ask Tara Whitney, who was on the receiving end of a handful of the most distraught phone calls a person could ever hope to receive during the first week I had quit.
It is hard to say goodbye to something that you not only love, but helps you function every day.
Right now, whole bags of potato chips and chocolate and boxes of grape popsicles are helping me to function every day. Because I have let them. Because I have now officially replaced smoking with food. It only took just under three years. Surprisingly.
The thing about food though, that differs from smoking, unless you're on Fear Factor or Survivor, it's usually not considered gross. You actually NEED it to live. Therein lies the rub. You have to learn to make good and healthful choices for your body. You can't just NOT do it. For all or nothing people, that can be an extreme challenge.
For me, it means getting re-acquainted with one of the scariest words in the English language, and one I have very little experience with: moderation. I'm shuddering as I type that.
So there it is. I am simply announcing my intention to get back on the horse and ride in 2009. I will post once a month on this subject, and no more. It's not really a New Year's resolution. I'm just sort of anal and like doing things that start on the first of any given month.
Wish me luck.
