Now, 175 might sound like a lot to some of you reading. It might sound like waif-thin to others of you. But this is a real benchmark for me.
See, the last time I weighed 175 lbs I was all of about 14 years old and a freshman in high school. It was all uphill from there, so to speak. By the time I graduated I was close to 200, and once I got to college, well, all bets were off. I don't remember exactly what the scale read then, but on the day I got married (a year after I graduated) I was at 208. And no, I still wasn't done "growing."
I won't iterate all the fluctuations or all the failed diets. Let's just say it started before I was 14, when my mom decided I needed to lose about 40lbs (she was right, I did) and put me on the dreaded restricted-calorie plan. Just me, not herself or my dad. I got to have my measured portions and plain foods while they had whatever they liked, as much of what they liked, as often as they liked. I did lose the 40lbs. I went from 180 to 140 for *one day.* I wore a beautiful size 14 (which is now probably a 10, with the "vanity sizing" we have nowadays) dress to church that day, and when I came home, I hung it in the closet. It stayed there. I never, ever wore it again. I started to EAT. The cycle continued for decades.
Finally, last spring (April Fool's Day, actually--something serendipitous about that, I think!) I decided to Do Something. I'm not sure what the galvanizing incident was. Perhaps it had to do with my little girl, who the December before had remarked to me about a picture in a magazine, in an ad for some weight-loss scheme. "Mama, is that you?" No, I said, that's not me. "But you're fat like her!"
She will *never* know what that did to me. When I was alone that night I just lay in bed and cried. I had a steady fellow, true, but I knew he wasn't going to be The One--we just really enjoyed each other's company. I mentioned this to him not long after, when I had started rather half-heartedly to count fat grams and fiber as I had learned in my quasi-successful stint in WW a few years ago. He knew I was struggling, and he was behind me all the way. "Whatever you decide to do, you let me know if I can help. Even if it's just to say 'good going, keep it up' or hug you if you need it."
Anyway, I fiddled around with counting fat grams and fiber grams for a couple of months, but my heart wasn't really in it. It had worked for a while before, but ultimately I didn't really *learn* anything from the experience. Then one day I was buying some vitamins and mineral supplements at the local drugstore when I saw a copy of Dr. Atkins's "Age-Defying Diet." Well, being on the far side of 40 already, that caught my eye. I read the entire thing that night and decided that low-carb was the way for me. The section about "Syndrome X" struck a deep, deep chord. That was ME he was writing about.
The next day--April Fool's Day, 2001--I began low-carbing. I told my fellow about it, and he looked at me a little oddly but kept his word to be supportive. I didn't say a thing to anyone at work, or any of my friends. I had tried so many times to lose weight and never did for any length of time, I wasn't about to go around touting this as The Last Time and then fail again.
So here I am, 10 months later. I have lost 45 lbs and 15 inches. I'm wearing size 14s now, instead of the 18-20s I was in when I began. (At my heaviest I wore a 24-26. I managed to lose some of that weight with Herbalife, but gained a portion of it back when I quit using their products for financial reasons.) I expect I'll be in a 12 by the time I reach goal, which is only 25 lbs away now.
No, I'm not done. But that doesn't make this any less of a success story!