One Year Ago, I Asked My Doctor for Help

One year ago, I had the results of my annual check-up. Although my blood work was all good, my blood pressure was creeping up, as was my weight. It had increased far past the point I ever thought it could. And, although I surrendered myself to the idea of  having to do something, I continued to gain weight. I seemed helpless to stop it even for the following two months leading up to the first meeting with my nutritionist.

It had seemed to me that I was at a tipping point. My weight was so great and my overall energy and ability so low (and decreasing) that I was headed down a slippery slope. I couldn't move very much so my body didn't burn many calories. Since it didn't burn many calories, I got heavier no matter how much I cut back on excessive eating.

Fortunately, much of what ailed me then was miraculously cured by something called exercise, which strengthened my body simply by my moving in a fashion that kept my heart rate elevated but not too high.

If I could snap my fingers and go back to that time one year ago and feel my fatigue, that general feeling of being ill and the effort it would take just to walk across a room, I'm sure I'd fall to my knees and die. It's just that extreme, what has happened to me and how far I've come.

I never dreamed I'd jog again or ride a bike. I thought many fun things were over for me. I even spent time planning my funeral. I felt helpless about my situation. More than anything, I thought I had failed my children.

The journey I'm on has only just begun. I learn things every day about myself and about my condition. In recent months I have focussed soley on exercise and haven't worried about the number on the scale whatsoever. My overall weight does not effect the improvements in my health. My ever-increasing fitness is at the core of what I do. The reasons for my eating problems are so complex, I can't begin to understand them. I'll approach that aspect day by day, knowing that there is no quick solution to fix why I eat the way I do. Exercise and progress in fitness fuels my resolve to be in control of my eating.

Last night I was visiting with friends at a home where a nice spread of junk food was laid out before us. Each time chip dip reached my taste buds a ridiculously-euphoric psysiological reaction occurred in me. This can't be normal! Dealing with eating problems may take years for me to get a hold on. It will most likely be with me for the rest of my life at some level, but it matters not if I stay strong physically.

The night before last, I headed out on a very cold winter night with storm-like bitterly-cold winds. I walked the same half-hour route I walked last summer on the warmest and most beautiful of nights. I faced the threat of winter head-on. I learned that winter need not stop me and all I have to do is learn how to dress. I can't afford all the latest gear but I did invest in a good balaclava to keep my face warm. The rest of me was protected by layers of cheap and well-worn Walmart clothes.

Yesterday I returned home from a two hour shopping excursion. Out of habit, I collapsed on my bed and waited for the relief to set in. It didn't. My body didn't require any relief. It wasn't sore and fatigued. It was fresh and strong and ready for more.

And that's where I'm at, one year after deciding something had to give.