If I tell you why, you might laugh. If someone had ever told me I'd be wrapped up in a reality television show, taking it seriously, I'd have said they were crazy. But this show and many of the people who find their way to and through it have a profound effect on me every time it airs.
Because I am one of them.
The list of things I could no longer do--at least not without tremendous effort--got longer and longer. My garden, once on a house tour, was sad and in disrepair. Sitting on the floor to teach Godly Play was impossible. Hiking with my Girl Scouts was out of the question. Simple house cleaning took all day because I'd sit and rest so often. Everyday tasks became hurdles. Laundry: two flights down; two flights up.
I watched the Biggest Loser from the start--sitting in a recliner, often with Burger King on my lap. Watching people find their way through their personal mazes of self-doubt or tragedy or recovery from abuse and any number of other issues that caused their food addictions should have inspired me but it did not. I just enjoyed watching them and marveled at their ability to lose weight so fast. But then, I would rationalize: they have trainers, they are on hiatus from real life, they have a prize at the end. And I also knew that many of them did not keep the weight off. So there.
Fast forward a couple of years to 2012 and the dreadful diabetes diagnosis. There it was: my motivator. I can't possibly express how awful I felt every time I lanced my finger. Every morning. Every night. It was painful. Literally, of course. But in other ways too. Every time I squeezed out that drop of blood, I was acutely aware I had done this to myself. Blame. Each time I saw the endocrinologist, I felt like she was blaming me too.
Around the time of my diabetes diagnosis, my dad became seriously ill, having suffered from respiratory issues virtually his whole life. He was hospitalized, and, as it turned out, it was his final hospitalization. Walking through his last days ironically provided me with more strength and resolve to get healthy and stay healthy. I'd already returned to Weight Watchers, although just on-line; no more meetings. I'd heard everything they could say during the other half dozen times I'd joined. Following my dad's death, I had this uncanny energy--like nothing I'd ever known--even when I was slim. I mentioned it to a priest friend of mine. We talked about energy ... how when someone dies, their energy has to go somewhere. She suggested that my dad's energy had found a home in me, that he was helping me find the strength to get on the path to healthy. I choose to believe this. My dad would love to know I'm healthy now. I think he does.
This journey has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups, to be sure. But the last two months of 2013 were difficult, a slippery slope of return to old habits I thought I'd licked. I'd been so close to my goal--only about 15 pounds away. Today I'm about 30 pounds away (again). It's proof that this is my life-long battle. Proof that every day is an opportunity to choose health and happiness over feeding my anxiety, tiredness and self-doubt with instant gratification. It's a lot of work. Really hard work.
But it's worth it. And I have a closet full of clothes to prove it. It's more than that though. It's the satisfaction of knowing that you're back in charge of your life that feels so good.
The people on The Biggest Loser are remarkable to me. They come from all walks of life. Mostly they're just regular folks trying to regain control of their weight, their health, their lives. That's what it is most of the time: losing or relinquishing control is the root, no matter what the issues may be. Convincing yourself that you are stronger than those issues, whether great or small, is a tall order. They know that and I know that. If weight has never been a problem for you, there's no way you can understand what a prison it is. Locked away in a vicious cycle of self-medicating with food that leads to self loathing that leads to more eating. And so the tears flow tonight--for them, for me, for our personal victories, for possibilities.
I sometimes wonder if I'll ever put the negative thoughts, hurtful memories and weaknesses to rest fully. Maybe not. But I am learning every day to keep them in perspective, looking forward instead of back and reminding myself that it's a journey with no real end. It's simply my life.
~~~~~
Remix (I Like the) by New Kids on the Block because whatever your size, it's really important to be confidant and believe in yourself. Weight (or whatever it is that prevents you from living your full life) does not define you.
