Fat Tuesday, indeed

I have a little confession to make. Well, a fat confession, really.

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you've probably noticed or at least guessed. I am fat. Again. 

Not that I was ever skinny, but this time two years ago, I weighed nearly 30 pounds less than I do right now. Then I was deep in the benefit of the Go Red for Women Better You challenge. I was exercising daily, eating healthfully. Now?

Now, I look like a Higglytown Hero. 

I know how it started. Summer 2010 knocked me off my exercise routine. Fall 2010 had me facing some enormous personal stresses at home. Winter 2011 brought ice storms and hours upon days on my couch. Then in Spring 2011, my mother-in-law died and the fat snowball just gained momentum. Unlike Dave Ramsey's debt snowball, this is not a good thing. 

It's not like I didn't notice. It was slow at first. Seven pounds. Then another five. And soon I was eating quarter pounders and fancy cupcakes without much guilt at all. Well, I had enough guilt to keep me eating them in the privacy of my own car. 

If only throwing money at fat would make it melt away. I don't dare count the months I shelled out hard-earned coins to Weight Watchers and the gym without so much as crossing the threshold of either place. But it's too much pressure, having those things hanging over my head. So I canceled the gym membership and scaled Weight Watchers back to online only.

It's not that I'm happy this way; I'm not. I'm uncomfortable and unhealthy and completely disappointed in myself. I get winded easily. I'm back to using the CPAP machine. I could do a stand-up comedy routine called "You're too fat when..."

You're too fat when...you keep hanging up on your friends because your fat cheek hits the "end" button on your cell phone while you're talking.

You're too fat when...you can't put your arms fully down at your sides, making you look like a rotund penguin whose flippers stick out awkwardly.

You're too fat when...your son yells "Mom, come here! You have to see this" and when you get to the family room, he's watching an infomercial about some crazy weight loss product or program.

You're too fat when...you write down the URL of that crazy weight loss product just so you can check it out later.

You're too fat when...you dream about Bob Harper and Jillian Michaels coming to your house to kick your fat ass.

You're too fat when...

Oh heck. I'm too fat NOW.  There are fat clothes in my closet again -- though not the fat dress. It found its way to Goodwill long ago. I know I can't stay like this. I have to do something. And I will. 

I think I just did. I confessed. That's a start.