Day One

I am fat.

I am not: thick, big-boned, healthy (ha!), curvy, volumptuous, or plump.

I am fat.

And I'm tired of being fat. So I'm finally doing something about it. I joined a Biggest Loser competition (not affilicated with the tv show) and as of today it is game on!

Why did I join the competition? Because... I needed motivation. I needed to sit in a room with 199 other fat people who promise to lose weight too. I needed to sit in that room and size up my competition. I needed to sit in that room and find my bitch--my pace car so to speak. I needed that trigger to spring in my head that says "You are going to kick her ass."

It needs to be said I am a super-duper extremely competitive person. My friends and family actually kind of hate it. I'm Monica from Friends. Don't challenge me because I will take you up on it and shred you to pieces.

Is my approach bad? Probably. Do I care? Hell-to-the-no! If it is motivating me to lose weight and get into those skinny jeans--the kind sold in "regular" stores and not a store catering to the larger, more volumptuous woman--then it is so worth it!

So, even though I am intensely uneasy about admitting my weight, I'm still going to do it. I'm going to own it.

Starting weight: 232lb

I shutter thinking about that number. But if I'm serious about this, I need to be confident that number is going to change. By day 7, that number will be different.

How am I going to do it, you ask? Well, I started Weight Watchers. I've been a loser who's been paying for it for the past year, just haven't participated in it the last 9 months. But I went gung-ho today. I'm writing everything down, counting my points and working it!

Ok, that was food, what about exercise? Well, little ones let me tell you... I have a gym partner. Oh yes, I am in cahoots. After the biggest loser meeting last night, we sat down and scheduled out our gym time for the next week. It's game on for her too. We are doing this, we are doing this together, and we are going to kick some serious ass.

Remember my title... Day One. So yes, it is officially day one. Like I said, I went gung-ho today with the food. I'm thinking about everything I'm putting in my mouth. <insert inappropriate joke here> And then, this morning, I joined the Zumba nation.

Now...

...

...

I don't even know what to say about this experience. I've always prided myself on having rhythm. I could move with the best of them. But today... oh lordy, today was an embarrassment. Yes, I shook my ass but I think mostly because the fat was jiggling from all the movement. I didn't know any of the routines. I flailed around like an idiot and I sweated, oh my gosh did I sweat.

Zumba class = church
Me = whore

*I think that last equation has been made before*

Now, hours after the Zumba class I sit at my computer and type this and I wonder why we ever needed hamstrings. We don't need them. Why are they there? To cause me pain after Zumba, that's why. And my knees have officially gone on strike. I think I heard them this morning:



I swear this happened. And my legs aren't that disportionate.

I can say, this first day has kicked my butt. I'm having to force myself to drink the water I'm supposed to. I'm having to force myself to eat all my WW points (a problem I had last year too). And all I want to do is sit in a hot bath and sweet talk my knees into sticking with me for a few more decades.

Day One... done.