Truth

I'm 5'1 and this morning I weighed in at 211.5 pounds.  Those are morbidly obese numbers.  I could go on The Biggest Loser and fit right in.  I have unsightly rolls, celluloid puckering, and a great white expanse where most people have asses.  I wear a size 18.  Yesterday I had two hot dogs for lunch and half of a pizza for dinner, along with lots of beer.  That's the ugly truth about where I am right now.

I am also, of course, many other things: smart, hardworking, blessed with a good sense of humor, wife to a great man, sister to a lovely lady, daughter of absolutely wonderful parents.  I've won awards for my writing, give very good tours, and cook many delicious and healthy meals.  On my best days, I am interested and interesting.

But I am also fat, and I want to change that about myself.  I want to be able to run again, I want to stop worrying about diabetes whenever I get thirsty, and I want to go shopping and get excited about how I look in cute outfits, dammit!

I have tried to lose weight before, and always.  I've had success and failure.  I don't think that this time will be any different, but I figured I could at least start with the truth.