Monday, December 28, 2009

I so want fries with that!


The drive thru window.

It's the sole reason why I weigh 350 pounds. Ever since I was a teenager, I've been tempted by the window which delivers hot, fried goodness to my car. Burgers, fries, chicken nuggets. In the past when I've tried to lose weight, I'd choose the healthier options (the grilled chicken sandwich, a turkey burger, a salad) But, who am I kidding? Everyone who goes through a drive-thru wants the burger combo, supersized, and maybe even with a little extra something on the side.

When hunger bites and I'm running around in my car, the drive-thru calls to me. McDonalds, Burger King, Wendys, Jack in the Box. You name it, I've been there. As if it weren't enough to order a Double Whopper with Cheese combo (large sized), I usually would add on a Whopper Jr for good measure. Am I worried I'll starve without that extra burger? What's more likely is that somewhere in my past, I had engrained in my head that more is better. If that's the case, then I'm one of the worlds best when it comes to weight gain.

It's so ridiculous. I've noticed that there's an emotional connection to the drive-thru window. For some reason, there is no greater feeling in the world than pulling up to that bright, cellophane covered window and ordering my favorite burger combo, and then pulling up to a window and being handed a warm, paper bag filled with greasey, breaded, mayonnaise and ketchup covered goodness. When I'm feeling down, I want it. When I want to celebrate, I want it. I'd say it was an addiction, but more than one time I've passed up the drive-thru window for something more reasonable healthy and affordable at home, and I've done so without withdrawals. So, what the hell is this?

I grew up on a small farm. We had no regular access to fast food, or any food for that matter. The closest grocery store was in town, about 5 miles away, and the closest fast food place was in a city about 10 miles away (and in another state even!) Occasionally we would travel to the "big city" across the river and do a little shopping or catch a movie. Almost always without fail we'd stop somewhere to get a bite to eat, and it was usually at one of those gloriously fattening havens of fried and broiled goodness. The folks would order their adult meals, and we kids would order our "happy-to-be-eating-here" meals. We'd sit at the table, unwrap our meal, and chow down. I mention this because, somewhere in the back of my mind, these memories reach to the forefront of my thinking as my 34 year-old fingers unwrap whatever drive-thru concoction I happen to be indulging in. Is that why I love to eat fast food? Is it my own little tribute to years gone by, and times when life was simpler? Is that why we all do it?

I might be on to something, but I have a feeling that there's more to it than that. Whatever the case, I do know one thing. My reliance on the drive-thru window, be it for emotional release or for simple convenience, has put my life in serious jeopardy. I know that in order to conquer my weight issues I will need to say goodbye to the drive-thru window.

Man, I could really go for a burger right now.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Tired


8 weeks.

That's how long my 62 year-old dad has gone without smoking, a habit that he's struggled with for the last 40 years. On the cusp of journeying across America with his motorcycle and travel trailer, he decided to kick the habit once and for all so he can actually live his retirement, and not cut it short. And with that, I have the sudden urge to examine my own health and conquer my weight problem.

Ever since I can remember, I have had issues with my weight. As a 12 year old, I began feeling conscious about my extra pounds when I was asked by family members if I needed to go bra shopping because of the bust I was developing. Every day of high school was a literal pain as the tightness of my jeans, which I had outgrown because of my expanding waistline, cut into my hips with every step I took, all because I was afraid to ask my mom to buy me that next larger size. But I was never a huge kid, never an obese kid. In reality, I was just a little overweight.

My 20s were a whole other story. It was then that the weight really started getting out of control. By the age of 20 I was already over 250 pounds, quite the gain from my high school weight of 180. By 25 I was pushing 300. Through the years, the weight just kept coming until today I weight in at 349 pounds, all pushing down on a body which stands at 5'9. Today I am what is categorized as "morbidly obese". I'm well on my way to developing diabetes, heart disease, and any number of other illnesses which will likely cut my life short. I live my life with a 349 pound noose around my neck: I literally could drop at any moment.

I'm tired of living like this. I'm tired of shopping at specialty stores for clothes. I'm tired of looking so much different from everyone else, including my own skinny spouse. I'm tired of being the lone obese member of a relatively healthy family. I'm tired of breaking a sweat and running out of breath simply by climbing a flight of stairs. I'm tired of watching those weight loss game shows on tv, wishing that I was among them. I'm tired of seeing those sad looks on peoples' faces that say "oh, what have you done to yourself?" And I'm tired of being ashamed of what I have done to myself. I should have known better.

And so my Christmas present to myself this year is to finally conquer this issue once and for all. I've tried so many different ways to lose weight before, and I'll talk about them at a later date. I know what I need to do and I'm going to do those things. But I decided maybe it would help me to talk about the journey as I take on this challenge. After all, there's probably something a little therapeutic in talking about tackling the greatest challenge of my life, and I can only imagine that it will help me in the end. I also know that there are many, many people out there who struggle with weight as I do. Hopefully this place can become one in which ideas are shared and solutions are found. And, somewhere along the way, I hope that I can live without feeling so tired.

So in the words of the Great One himself, dancing his large frame off a stage before the opening act, I dedicate this blog in a way I think is most appropriate:

"And away we go!"