One of the few facts listed in my meager profile is my occupation - Registered Dietitian. And yes, that is my weight up there. I am an overweight dietitian. It wasn't always that way. In high school I played tennis and ran track. In college, I continued to play tennis my freshman year but then my situation became more complicated. In addition to going to school, I started working several part time jobs (all at once). I stopped playing tennis and my running became sporadic at best. During the next ten years I would gain more than fifty pounds. At my heaviest (not counting pregnancy) I was 179 pounds. I vowed that I wouldn't hit 180, and found out I was pregnant not two weeks later. During my pregnancy I focused on eating right for the baby growing inside me. I kept my weight gain within the recommended limits and after giving birth I left the hospital at 179 pounds.
In the hospital, holding my newborn daughter, I had idyllic dreams of how I would be a shining example of health. I would eat right, exercise daily, and be svelte in no time. My daughter would never see a single potato chip pass my lips. Once home, with no nurses to take the baby when I needed to nap and no kitchen staff at my beck and call I staggered. Postpartum depression settled in, and my husband was left to do everything but the breast feeding. I was hurting and macaroni & cheese felt soothing and comfortable.
Fast forward to now, a year and a half later. I feel better. Anti-depressants help. Thanks to my fabulous boss I've been able to change my work schedule to four, ten-hour days. Bear and I spend our extra day together walking to the library, going to the zoo or the children's museum, playing in the park. Anything to get us out of the house and moving. We recently signed up for Mommy and Me swim lessons.
My eating has improved. I keep a little notebook with me and write down every morsel I consume. Next to the food I list the calories and then two more columns of numbers, a running total of calories for the day and another of calories left for the day. In the beginning I lost ten pounds in 7 weeks. Then two weeks ago, I had minor foot surgery. "Minor" in the sense that it was done in the doctor's office and I could drive myself home. Surgery though, means that I have been off my feet for the past two weeks. I've watched hours of Law & Order re-runs, I am dying to know how the Melanie McGuire trial will end - life, death, obviously she'll appeal. And I have been visiting my old friend, macaroni & cheese, almost daily. In two weeks, I put on 4.5 pounds. It's very upsetting.
So this morning I broke out a fresh notebook. I started off the day with my favorite multigrain bagel (265 calories) topped with a little butter (72 calories) and a banana (139 calories). I have a follow-up with the podiatrist this afternoon, and with his OK, I'm taking my dogs on a one mile walk after work. My goal weight is 125 pounds. I want to be there by my daughters next birthday, in late October. To keep me honest, every Monday post will be dedicated to my pursuit of weight loss and health. I don't ever want my daughter to struggle with her weight, but more importantly I want her to like herself. I want to be the person I want her to want to be.