Well, Here We Go Again

Last year in March, I embarked on a diet with the aim of fitting into my skinny jeans by February 19 --my 45th birthday.

(Excuse me while I either burst into hysterical laughter or tears --whichever.)

Today I embark on that quest again, this time hoping to achieve my goal or hell, just some movement in that direction, by my forty-SIXTH birthday.

I start this diet, and this year, five pounds heavier than last year. I've probably lost 350 pounds but I've gained it all back, plus five. I'm embarrassed. I'm mad at myself.

I am actually hideous.

No, don't bother to write in about how fat does not hideous make and how I'm succumbing to the popular culture that equates thin with beauty. I know all that. But I also know what I looked like two scant years ago before I gained 35 pounds and I know what I look like now. My double chin has a double chin, my hair is having an identity crisis, my sweat pants are verging on too tight and my face is breaking out. It's not my best look. I might have all those same problems if my sweatpants were looser but I'd just plain look better thinner.

So, here I go again.

Damn it.

I just wish... I just wish that I felt enthusiastic. I wish I felt something besides a sort feeling of doom. Shouldn't I be more excited? I mean, what are those people on television taking and where can I get some?

I always need some sort of a plan (otherwise I just end up eating handfuls of chocolate covered raisins for breakfast, lunch and dinner) so right now, I'm following the Weight Watchers Diet. But I'm not joining the program because I just can't bear to throw more money at the diet industry so that someone can try to give me tools I already have. I have probably joined Weight Watchers at least ten times. I mean, I KNOW how to count calories or points and how to exercise and how to write down everything I eat. I KNOW WHAT I NEED TO DO. I'm not motivated by the group meetings. I've been there and tried that--both on-line and in-person. Fail for me.

I AM going to throw money at joining a gym though. There's one right down the street from me and it's pretty cheap ($20 initial fee and then $20 per month) and I think that if I go there after I drop my last child off at school, I'll get the workout in and it won't eat my entire day. The gym is brand new and doesn't open for another two weeks so until then, I'll ride the exercise bike at my house and try not to curse too loudly about it.

So, anyway, here I am. No epiphany, no illusions, no enthusiasm. But I'm going to trudge through this thing because I honestly can't stand to feel like this for one more day. I wouldn't even mention it except, usually, misery loves company and I sure am miserable. If you, too, find yourself totally unmotivated to make the changes you know you need to make and having conveniently looked the other way when the rest of the world was indulging in the annual New Year, diet and exercise resolution orgy, then waddle on over and we'll do this together.

Ready, set, go. No, seriously this time. If *I* can start, anyone can because there is no way your attitude could be worse than mine and here I go. And y'all, this time I'm serious.