Five years ago I decided I was sick of being fat and out of shape. So, I Got Serious about my health, my diet, and my exercise, and went balls-to-the-wall and dropped sixty pounds. I went from a size 16 to a size 6, and by June I had defined abdominals.

Now then, I did this when I was single, childless, and had essentially unlimited free time save for my job. I could eat how I wanted, work out when I wanted, and could structure my life to best accomodate my fitness and diet goals.

In the intervening five years I have, most unfortunately, gained weight. I will admit that I put about twenty of the sixty pounds back on within about two months of going off the exceedingly extreme diet that I'd been on, however, that is not a bad thing. I was down to 117 pounds and 14% bodyfat, and it was not the right weight for me. After I began eating more normally (though still healthfully) I went up to about 135 and stayed there fairly comfortably. I still looked quite good (if I might say so myself!) and I felt good.

(I'm the one on the right.)

Then I met Jack. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming Jack for any of my weight gain. But, in the process of dating and marrying him I put on another ten pounds from a richer restaurant diet, combined with moving and leaving my regular "muscle-head" gym and switching to a more er... yuppie spandex chrome mega-gym. (A gym that I came to truly despise and thus slowly stopped going to.)

So here I was, weight creeping up, eating poorly, barely working out. Then we decided to have a baby.

I only gained about 27 pounds with Anna. Unfortunately, I had gained about ten pounds with the pregnancy before that one (the one that failed), and then gained about 15 pounds from the fertility drugs that were used both times to help me get knocked up.

Now, approximately five years to the day from when I first decided to stop being fat in time for my 35th birthday, I am once again at that same weight (okay, maybe a tetch more) and am now looking at turning forty this year.

I'm not going to be fat and forty. Fuck no. I can't do anything about the forty part (damn it!), but I can do something about the fat part. Last time it really helped me to put my entire effort out there for the world to see, as embarrasing as it was at times, so I'm going to do it again. There's no way I can be as intensive as I was last time, but that might not be such a bad thing, eh?

It's going to be weight loss, and it's also going to be overall health. I submitted blood and urine today for a total screening. I see my doctor tomorrow for a recheck on my gut (which has cleared up very nicely thanks to Prevacid) and I'm going to tell him my weight and fitness goals and get him on board. I'm also making appointments today for other routine checkups with my gyn and my dermatologist.

See, I have this little girl who is the cutest little girl in the world. I want her to still have a mommy in 20 years. And carrying 40 extra pounds is not going to help in that goal.

Therefore, if you are interested in following my progress, just link to my 2006 Weight Loss Dare page (soon to be an actual page with tables and charts and all sorts of neato shit.) And, if you are interested in joining me, email me and let me know, and I'll track your progress and goals along with my own. (Studies have shown that people who diet and exercise with a support group are far more likely to reach their goals!)

And now, for your enjoyment (and my shame) here is my "Before" picture, taken last night. Ugh.