The Biggest Loser

I know I have been writing about my weight loss a lot lately. I hope it hasn’t been incredibly boring for my regular readers. The truth is I just do better when I hold myself accountable. Writing about it and sharing my struggles makes me stay the course when I am sometimes at my lowest. I have struggled with weight all of my life. I have had moments of incredible fitness and absolute horrific weight gain. Finding a balance has been easily the hardest thing I have ever done.

Interestingly this last year as I felt myself start to spiral and watch the weight come back on I was able to stop myself before it got out of hand. I heard myself saying the same old things. My back hurts, my knees hurt, I get migraines, blah, blah, blah. It isn’t that these problems are not real and don’t get in the way but I have to overcome them. I cannot let them define me. I have a real and genuine fear of dying young. My father died young, my grandfather died young, both my uncles died young, my sister died when she was twenty-one (although through no fault of her own. Cancer is a beast. The men all lived unhealthy lives).

I am not going to say there isn’t some vanity. When I am fit I look good. I feel good. It isn’t the driving force. Health is and I must keep it at the forefront. I don’t know when I am going to die but I am not going to help it along with high blood pressure, weight problems, and unhealthy living. I stopped the slide this year with a simple thought, “I am writing two novels a year. I can find a way to exercise.”

Lately, Sheri and I have been completely hooked on the Biggest Loser. I have never gotten that big but the show has been an eye opener. These are people who have lost complete control of their weight. People who literally could drop over dead at any moment if they don’t get the weight off. It has been inspiring to watch them. The show is heart breaking sometimes and I have found myself crying on more than one occasion. I have heard several people talk about the same demons haunting their life which have haunted mine. I have watched some truly miraculous weight loss.

It has really kept me motivated. How can I make excuses when those people are going through hell. So I don’t. Today was the 54th straight day of at least an hour exercise. Yesterday, I finally fit into a pair of pants which signified my second to last goal. All I have left is the pants I wore when I was at my fittest. I have geeky shirts I bought in the size I wanted to be, not the size I was. Soon I will be in them too. I can’t tell you how awesome it was to get into the new pair of pants yesterday. I am almost there. It may take me 54 more days but I will get there. In the meantime, Sheri and I are working our way through all the seasons of The Biggest Loser (I have started doing all of my elliptical workouts when we watch. I kill myself with them during the last chance workouts). This is it for me. I will never put myself through this again. My choice is to be healthy. I have a lot of novels still to write.

About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

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