Better THAN Lipo?

Diet. Webster's dictionary defines this evil four letter word as: 1) Food and Drink regularly provided or consumed 2) habitual nourishment 3) the kind and amount of food prescribed for a person or animal for a special reason 4) a regimen of eating and drinking sparingly so as to reduce one's weight.

My definition: Punishment. Torture. Starvation. Deprivation. The means to a gluttonous end. A guaranteed way to set myself up for failure. A painful reminder of the displeasure I feel with myself when I look in the mirror, shop for clothes at the mall, attempt to ride a roller coaster with friends, get dressed for a special occasion and all of the years I have told myself, "if only you would lose weight, you could be an amazing person".

As of tomorrow morning, I am embarking on a new journey. A new beginning. It is time to redefine my personal definition of the word diet. I've been on so many of them at this point that I am beyond the semantics of its title. "A lifestyle change". "A new way of life". Call it what you want, but to me, it's a "diet". I am just looking forward to redefining it personally as “habitual healthy nourishment” and no longer “failure”.

I am nervous. Scared. I have been down this road more times than I'd care to admit. I've tried them all. Weight Watchers, Atkins, Jenny Craig, eating right for my blood type. You name it, I promise I have tried it, or some insane variation of it. Diet pills? I have bought them all. But even those I forget to take after a few days and they eventually find their way to the back of my medicine cabinet to join the cemetery of other diet pills (because of course they were too expensive to just throw away, plus to do so is to actually admit quitting).

Exercise? I've belonged to every gym in town. I feel like they should at least hang a plaque in my honor since essentially I am paying for everyone else to use the equipment. Trainers? I've had them and every time I reach a point where enough is enough (one to two months in) they get to keep my prepaid money for the remainder of my unused sessions. I'm their dream client.

The best thing I have ever done physically was last year, when I was a featured dancer in Richard Simmon's Sweating To The Oldies 5. It was nothing short of inspired and life changing. But even with that, I find myself sitting here typing with most of the weight regained from that experience.

Do all of these programs work? Of course! Even most of the diet pills (overlooking their insane side effects of course). What it highlights is one common denominator in all of this. Me. I’ve made it a habit now of letting myself down. Tomorrow, I have no choice but to say, “enough is enough”.

I want to take this weight off for several reasons. In a future post, I will list those reasons, but for now, there is one that empowers me most and trumps them all: I am tired of my weight being an issue. Period. I am tired of thinking about it. I am tired of other people thinking about it. I am tired of thinking other people are thinking about it.

I am an amazing person. I am fun. I am full of life. I am loyal. I am kind. I am happy. I am smart. I am accomplished. It is time that I let those parts of me shine and no longer be overshadowed by this exterior that is tangible proof that I am not taking care of this “amazing person”.

Of all the diets I have ever been on, this one may (excuse the pun), take the cake. I have prepared for a weekend of gluttonous eating, because that is exactly what the doctor prescribed. I bought my very own cake that I will eat and enjoy and not care if I never share. For all I know, it could be the last cake I ever eat. Well, wait. We all know the answer to that. How about it will be the most cake I will ever eat in one sitting again. Yeah, that I can live up to. Because starting here and now, I am giving my word to myself, that I will no longer fail and will someday be able to say, “let them eat cake” and be okay if there is none left for me.