I’m a compulsive planner and goal setter, it’s like a disease. If it can be illustrated, charted, listed, or journaled, you can bet your cookies (mmm cookies) that I’ve done all of them and in triplicate. I love me some goals. So, I set some.
My first goal, of course, was the loss of an entire person, that pesky little 150 pounds, and I gave myself a year to lose it in. Hey if you’re going to dream, shoot for the moon! Now, I’m also realistic and know it’s a huge goal, pardon my pun, so I broke it down into smaller goals. Using my amazing math skills and knowledge of weight that’s healthy to lose in a week, I figured if I lost three pounds a week, I should be able to make my year goal, even surpass it.
On paper, the goals look perfect and easy, but really, I know better. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be overweight and there wouldn’t be any phenomenon known as willpower. Slip-ups happen and there are even evil things called plateaus. I know these goals are going to be a major uphill battle, but nothing worth having is ever easy, right?
Right. Well, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
In order to keep my goals attainable, I’ve taken it a step further. If I can’t hit the 150 pound goal, I would equally love to be single digits in clothes sizes and not care what I weigh. (Insert hysterical laughter here.) I’m tall and medium-boned. I don’t think single digits are in my future without looking like an emaciated skeleton. Not that I have anything against bony people, but I’d still like to have at least some womanly curves. So I’d be content, no, downright happy, as a size 10 or 12. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m an impressive size 28 right now. And doesn’t losing seven or eight sizes sound a lot easier than 150 pounds? It’s all in how you sell it to your brain.
I can understand those goals, both the ultimate and the realistic. My "realistic ultimate" goal is to be forced to walk past Lane Bryant when I'm in the mall because they don't have anything that will fit me. I don't shop there often, but wouldn't it be nice to know you CAN'T shop there??
ReplyDeleteGood luck!
Girl, you're gonna need some pictures to prove it's really you. I lost 50 pounds after each of my kids and wished I'd kept a picture journal. 'Course it turns out that weight wasn't lost; just misplaced. Now that the baby's college-bound I need to lose it again!
ReplyDeleteAmy, Well right now I'd need aerial photos :D But the plan is to pick an outfit that is tight-fitting (like that's going to be hard) and mug for the camera on every "weigh day" which is synonymous with doomsday.
ReplyDeleteThat's an awesome job that you lost 50 pounds but we need to talk about you leaving it where I could find it!!! :D
Heather,
ReplyDeleteThat is a fabulous goal!! I would also love, Love, LOVE to pass by Lane Bryant, see something cute, and say, "Rats. There's no way I can find a size small enough for me!" and then just keep walking.
Thanks for the well wishes. Heck if I can do it, really anyone can.