Who: Me. Manda. 35 1/2 years old. A wife and mother of two. An almost middle aged woman who has battled her weight most of her life.
4th grade: I remember being aware of my weight in fourth grade. I was in school and from my memory I was the biggest of my friends. If I look at pictures from that time I wasn't fat. But I was bigger than my friends. I was so aware of my weight that I faked an injury (a sprained ankle) to avoid participating in our school's track and field day. I didn't want to be embarrassed about coming in last in the 50 yard dash. Or to be the shortest long jump.
Jr. high: I rode my bike a lot in those years. It kept my weight down. I was in semi okay shape. I didn't feel bad about my weight but I wasn't exactly the cutest girl in school. I was awkward with my thick glasses and braces. I have always been hair challenged and those years highlighted my lack of hair skill. It didn't help that I gave my hairdresser free reign over my hair and she tried some pretty crazy styles. Yes, I had a mullet.
High school: The weight started packing on. I remember in 9th grade the first day of PE they weigh you in front of everyone. Who thought that was a good idea? I weighed 130 pounds. That was huge in comparison of all my 100 pound friends. Oh, to be that skinny again. I was a size 6. I wasn't involved in any sports. I was a drama girl...all the way, which means very little physical activity. I had rehearsals most days after school. I would get a candy bar and a Mountain Dew for an after school snack almost every day. By the time I was a senior I weighed 180 pounds.
Post high school: All my friends left for college. I stayed at home and went to the area community college. I was depressed. I ate. I watched the scale creep up. I swore I would kill myself if I ever got to 200 pounds but never did anything to stop the pounds adding up. 200. It was a monumental moment. I cried and probably ate a bunch of junk. Have you seen Austin Powers? Fat Bastard? When he says, " I can't stop eating. I eat because I'm unhappy, and I'm unhappy because I eat. It's a vicious cycle." That was (is) me. I love to eat. I hate to exercise.
Mid 20s: I moved out of my parents house when I was 24. It was amazing. I was still about 200 pounds. I fluctuated between 200 and 205. I started exercising. Eating less (mostly out of necessity. I couldn't afford to eat out all the time.) I would have a latte for breakfast, a cup of soup for lunch, and then a very light dinner at home. I was doing Tae Bo every day. I was so happy. I lost 35 pounds. I went from a size 16 to a size 10. People noticed. It felt good. I was dating. . I was a svelte 165. Then I met Chad. We fell in love. Got married. Had a baby. I gained 35 pounds while pregnant. I was up to 200 again. I lost 10 pounds of my pregnancy weight. Madeline was 6 pounds of that weight. Chad and I started our own weight loss plan. It never lasted. 2 years later I was pregnant with Eli. I weighed about 210 when I gave birth. I lost about 10 pounds. Eli was 8 pounds. Ha.
30s: I ballooned to 240 in 2009. I was working weird hours at the county hospital. My system was all screwed up. I wasn't exercising. I was eating crap. My blood pressure was elevated. We planned a Disney trip the summer of 2009 and I vowed that I was going to get in better shape for Florida. I had a treadmill that I walked on every day. I was eating healthier. I lost 35 pounds and felt great. My blood pressure was normal. Florida came and went. I stopped exercising. The treadmill was a dust collector. I sold it.
Now: I weigh 235ish. I haven't stepped on a scale in a while. I don't exercise. I eat junk. I love sugar. I love fried foods. I love greasy food. I love caffeine. I love everything that is bad for me.
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