feel like a rebellious, ungrateful teenager in my lipstick and new frock, sneaking out the bedroom window in search of new adventures.
WEEK 51
December 31
252 pounds (back here again!)
99 pounds lost—87 to go
I survived my first Christmas as a dedicated fat-fighter! Temptation abounded in the form of pavlova and ham, but I stuck to salads and fruit. My only concession was Nanny’s caramel pie. Shortbread crust, oozy caramel innards, and an artery-clogging layer of whipped cream—it’s an annual treat that I refuse to give up!
I weighed in tonight and there was a belated Christmas Miracle—a minuscule half-pound gain over the festive period! Which was the same half pound I’d lost on Christmas Eve. The Lord giveth and he taketh away.
In other news, I’ve chopped off my hair. After my pity party earlier in the month, I decided it was time to start taking some pride in my appearance. My new graduation outfit reminded me that looking good helps me feel good.
My hairdresser Michelle smiled at me in the mirror. “So Shauna, what shall we do today? Just the usual trim?”
“No! I feel old and frumpy. I want to look young and hot. Do you think that’s possible?”
An hour later there was a puddle of ginger on the floor. I emerged with a short, funky cut and blond highlights. I love it! I’ve never had people rave over my hairdo before, telling me it’s flattering and demanding to know who did it. It’s an excellent way to distract them from my thighs.
I’m about to clock up one year of lard-busting adventures. Somehow I’ve managed to lose 99 pounds, tame my chocolate addiction, and coax my arse off the couch. I’m still a hefty lass at 252 pounds but I’ve got a new hairdo and I’ve got hope. Onward and downward!
YEAR TWO
WEEK 52
January 7
251.5 pounds
99.5 pounds lost—86.5 to go
The instructor came up to me after BodyPump tonight and told me I had Good Form.
“I’ve been watching you hiding at the back,” she said. “You’re doing great. Your squats are superb too. Keep up the good work!”
I blushed and stammered as though I’d been touched by a rock star. I thought such a muscle-bound goddess would only speak to the nubile hipsters in the front row. But she noticed me! Me, twice the size of the average participant. Me, without rippling body or coordinated outfit. She looked beyond the red face and tummy rolls and saw the athlete within. Happy New Year, indeed!
WEEK 55
January 28
250 pounds
101 pounds lost—85 to go
I’ve flown the coop. I’ve left Weight Watchers!
I’ve been fantasizing about leaving for months but never felt ready to actually do it.
I can’t help feeling ungrateful, especially since Donna and crew looked after me like a helpless baby bird for a whole year. I squawked and flapped and demanded constant nurturing, but just like Rhiannon, they were patient and understanding. Who knows how different the past fifty-five weeks could have been without their support? I might have wound up with a heart attack, facedown in a four-liter tub of ice cream.
So I must credit Weight Watchers with reminding me how to eat healthily. They gave me the rules, structure, and accountability that I desperately craved. I wanted a system to believe in, because I didn’t believe in myself.
But now I do believe in me, and I do believe I’ve had enough of the system too. I’m tired of standing in the queue, listening to other ladies justifying their gains before they’ve even gotten on the scale. I’m tired of the weekly fee, the points, the magazine, and the crappy granola bars.
To be honest, the gym is the biggest reason I’m fleeing the nest. Not only do I get more satisfaction from getting fitter than from getting on the scale, but the Weight Watchers meeting really is a rude clash with my BodyPump class. Why stand in a queue when I could be securing my favorite spot in the back row? Why listen to some old dame asking how many points are in a Fisherman’s Friend when I could be
WEEK 51
December 31
252 pounds (back here again!)
99 pounds lost—87 to go
I survived my first Christmas as a dedicated fat-fighter! Temptation abounded in the form of pavlova and ham, but I stuck to salads and fruit. My only concession was Nanny’s caramel pie. Shortbread crust, oozy caramel innards, and an artery-clogging layer of whipped cream—it’s an annual treat that I refuse to give up!
I weighed in tonight and there was a belated Christmas Miracle—a minuscule half-pound gain over the festive period! Which was the same half pound I’d lost on Christmas Eve. The Lord giveth and he taketh away.
In other news, I’ve chopped off my hair. After my pity party earlier in the month, I decided it was time to start taking some pride in my appearance. My new graduation outfit reminded me that looking good helps me feel good.
My hairdresser Michelle smiled at me in the mirror. “So Shauna, what shall we do today? Just the usual trim?”
“No! I feel old and frumpy. I want to look young and hot. Do you think that’s possible?”
An hour later there was a puddle of ginger on the floor. I emerged with a short, funky cut and blond highlights. I love it! I’ve never had people rave over my hairdo before, telling me it’s flattering and demanding to know who did it. It’s an excellent way to distract them from my thighs.
I’m about to clock up one year of lard-busting adventures. Somehow I’ve managed to lose 99 pounds, tame my chocolate addiction, and coax my arse off the couch. I’m still a hefty lass at 252 pounds but I’ve got a new hairdo and I’ve got hope. Onward and downward!
YEAR TWO
WEEK 52
January 7
251.5 pounds
99.5 pounds lost—86.5 to go
The instructor came up to me after BodyPump tonight and told me I had Good Form.
“I’ve been watching you hiding at the back,” she said. “You’re doing great. Your squats are superb too. Keep up the good work!”
I blushed and stammered as though I’d been touched by a rock star. I thought such a muscle-bound goddess would only speak to the nubile hipsters in the front row. But she noticed me! Me, twice the size of the average participant. Me, without rippling body or coordinated outfit. She looked beyond the red face and tummy rolls and saw the athlete within. Happy New Year, indeed!
WEEK 55
January 28
250 pounds
101 pounds lost—85 to go
I’ve flown the coop. I’ve left Weight Watchers!
I’ve been fantasizing about leaving for months but never felt ready to actually do it.
I can’t help feeling ungrateful, especially since Donna and crew looked after me like a helpless baby bird for a whole year. I squawked and flapped and demanded constant nurturing, but just like Rhiannon, they were patient and understanding. Who knows how different the past fifty-five weeks could have been without their support? I might have wound up with a heart attack, facedown in a four-liter tub of ice cream.
So I must credit Weight Watchers with reminding me how to eat healthily. They gave me the rules, structure, and accountability that I desperately craved. I wanted a system to believe in, because I didn’t believe in myself.
But now I do believe in me, and I do believe I’ve had enough of the system too. I’m tired of standing in the queue, listening to other ladies justifying their gains before they’ve even gotten on the scale. I’m tired of the weekly fee, the points, the magazine, and the crappy granola bars.
To be honest, the gym is the biggest reason I’m fleeing the nest. Not only do I get more satisfaction from getting fitter than from getting on the scale, but the Weight Watchers meeting really is a rude clash with my BodyPump class. Why stand in a queue when I could be securing my favorite spot in the back row? Why listen to some old dame asking how many points are in a Fisherman’s Friend when I could be
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