Yesterday, it was 11 months since I started my journey on SparkPeople.

So far I've lost 117 pounds. At this rate, it's rather 'possible' that I might finish up April at 250 pounds ... which would be 130 pounds lost in one year - which would mean I'm half way - half way to my goal.

Half way! yay!
Half way! *sigh*

I've come so far and overcome so much. I've learned so many things. I'm really proud of what I've accomplished so far.
I have so far to go. Some people still don't seem to notice a change. I'm still a very fat woman. I miss pizza.

*cries a little* *dies a little*

These days, the diet doesn't come easy. I've had to go to (temporary) extreme measures to break the plateau I was stuck on.

Some people might read this and find their ears perking up at that statement. "Oh? Do tell! I need to break one, too!"

There's two reasons why I wouldn't do that.
One: chances are, you already know all the safe and sane approaches to weight loss, and those are the only ones I could recommend to anyone in good conscience.
Two: 'kicking it up a notch' has been quite a kick in the teeth. I'm grumpy, hungry, annoyed, short tempered. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

That being said, WHY? WHY would I do to myself what I wouldn't like to see done to any of my friends? WHY would I abandon my common sense approach? WHY would I stress myself to just make a number change on an electronic gadget?

To put it simply: Goals.

So far, my goals have really been one of my strongest tools for weight loss. I would talk to my son, who is also a dear friend with remarkable insight for his young age. We'd figure out where I could get to by a certain date, if I lose the 'recommended amount' of weight per week. Then he'd hold me accountable, asking as I got closer, "Are you on track? Think you'll make it?"

That worked great.

Until suddenly it didn't.

Suddenly the weight loss just stopped, in spite of my best efforts. We've all been there.

And suddenly, goals aren't your ally anymore, but your enemy. "I'll never make it. I failed."
The road ahead starts stretching out into infinity. "If it took me a month to lose this pound, how long to lose the next 130? Oh, dear God, I can't face that."

I guess if I was inclined to give up, that would have been a critical point for me. Instead I put my game face on and told myself I'll do what I need to do to get where I want to get. I'm not a particularly happy camper at the moment.

But it's working. I'm sure I'll be happy LATER about what I'm doing right now.

OK, those were all pretty random thoughts.

I'm looking now at my upcoming - and ultimate - goals. My daughter, who is slim and fit at 150 pounds and 5'4" tells me not to care about the weight, instead get strong and able and fit for the challenges of my life. Where did I get these sensible kids? hehe. I thought I raised them ... differently.

I haven't really known where to begin when I was beginning this journey, and I also didn't know where I might end. I didn't know what to set as my weight goal, or how I was going to get there.

When I was 20, I weighed 120 pounds (5'7") and so I picked that as my goal.

According to the BMI tables, that's right on the edge of being underweight! I certainly didn't see myself as underweight, then. Ah, the curse of having size 0 sisters...

Speaking of BMI tables - when I started out, I couldn't find one that even WENT as high as my weight. And YET - somewhere between now and 3 pounds from now, I'll move from the bright red 'insanely obese' section of this chart (OK, they use the word 'extreme') to just plain old 'obese'.

Yay!
*sigh*

All this work, to get to be obese? Doesn't seem fair.

Anyway.

From 259 down to 200, I'll be camping in Obeseville. (I'm not sure how standard these charts are, your results may vary, nothing is larger than this object appears in the mirror, etc.)

From 199 down to 160, I can be overweight. Means, I could take out a Craigslist Ad and put down that I'm a charming, romantic lady with a 'few extra pounds' - Instead of a BBW. Oh, dear God again. Save me from ever getting that desperate.

From 159 down to 120, I'll be normal.

Wait, back up. Normal? "Normal"?? Ah, yeah, just with respect to weight.
Phew.

I anticipate 'normal' creating a lot of psychoses when I get there. I'll be flumpy. I'll be saggy and baggy and unhappy with the shape of my body. And I certainly can't afford tummy tucks and batwing reductions, and tusch lifts, etc.

*sigh*

It's really hard to get excited about walking a road that goes to such a point.
So I'm not going to.

Yeah!
Hell yeah. Oh, this idea is just really taking shape as I write this. 159? 120? Those aren't GOALS. Those are just... roadsigns.

What's my real goal? Tone it all up. Lift my chin in pride. Wear sexy little boots. Hmmm... be able to go running with my son. Be... "strong and able and fit for the challenges of my life". Tweaking my hotrod day after day, year after year, making the most of what I have.

So there isn't any end to this journey. There's always going to be more work to do. So getting all bent out of shape because I didn't 'make it to the half-way mark' when we're talking about an infinite road makes no sense at all.

Somehow, I think I'll be haunting the SparkPeople website for a great many years to come. And I think that's really how it should be.

My sister used to have a favorite saying: "Becoming is superior to being."

Oh, and I guess ... I'll change my goal weight to something a bit more reasonable. 139. Yeah. But not just yet.